Drunks and a Non Bastard
Without Prejudice
If I could ban alcohol off the face of the earth, I would. It's such an unpredictable substance. It can make social encounters easier, smooth your tongue and make you feel great. A little tipsy. Someone once said,
"Half the relationships in the world would not have started without alcohol" The silver tongue devil ??
It sure is and I love a wine with a meal, a cougar and coke if I want to get really blotto and a champagne at races and weddings. Mmmmmmm. But when does heavy drinking turn into alcoholism, what is the difference?
I used to find with Nifty Nev there was no distinction. He literally could not stop once he started. He always had to have alcohol in his system or he would be ill. Really ill. Spending 5 days in bed at a time after a binge. And what a binge he could have. Neville could go on a binge lasting 5 days and still be standing at the end of it and still be coherent.
When I first met him and he took me out for breakfast once, I noticed his hands were shaking. I realised he was way too young to have Delirium Tremens and said so. He looked at me as if he had never ever been aware of it before. I'm sure he must have. He was just 30 and I was 42 and I was to stay with him for 10 years as the non alcoholic part of him was wonderful.
But the alcoholic part of him was terrible. Others indulged him in his drinking, mates, especially. He was very witty and very intelligent and very very funny. His favourite haunt was The Windsor Castle in Windsor. A great pub with Pink Elephants on the roof. After a soccer match on a Saturday at Fawkner Park the hotel would be packed with drinkers, players and their girlfriends, wives and us.
I was told Nev used to ride there before I knew him and the Landlord would chain his bike to the post outside so Nev could not ride home pissed. There were photos of him on the wall, naked, as he had a penchant for taking off his clothes completely when he was "in his cups". I took them down later.
He could sing, dance and be totally outrageous when he was drunk and as quiet as a mouse when sober. I used to call the drunk Nev, evil twin Tommy, as his first name was Thomas and second name Neville but everyone except for his Ma and friend Skinner, called him Nev, his Ma and Skinner called him Tammy (or it sounded like it ) Nev had loads of Irish friends which was always a good thing.
He could be a disgusting drunk as well but noone at the South Yarra Soccer Club or The Windsor Castle seemed to care. Most of them actively encouraged him to drink and I was fighting a losing battle if I thought, ever, I could get him to stop. He loved drinking, he loved what it did to him. He became the Big, personality he could never be when sober.
He was drunk when I first met him at Molly Blooms in Port Melbourne on January 16th 1995. He had just returned from Ireland after a trip to see his family in Dublin. He hadn't been home to see his girlfriend since flying in and it had been 5 days since he's touched down. He was all over the dance floor writhing drunkenly in time to the music. My foster daughter and male friend Frank had looked at him and looked away.
I was left on my own at a table as I was the designated driver for the day and the night and nifty Nev immediately sat beside me and said
'Give us a kiss, Blondie"
I was feeling very defiant that day as I was sober and everyone else was drunk so I did kiss him, what the hell ! Turned out he was a great kisser and was also supremely intelligent and I wondered how he had become this pathetic drunk at such a young age. Interesting !.
I finally dropped him at home after he had told me he had trouble "getting: women and I knew he was lying. he said he had relly small genitalia and I knew he was lying about that too. One bad behaviour tends to go with another and there was no reason to. He was just bullshitting me and himself. But not long after he became "my fella" and I insisted he tell his girlfriend beofre I would go out with properly and he did. He had to get enormously drunk to do it and for his trouble she gave him a good belting and he left her.
We had such fun, he was so young and I regarded myself as sooooo old. he didn't care about the age gap, never did and never will. He was like that. His first sexual experience had been with an older woman at the late age of 23. He was in Liverpool and led astray by a woman 20 years older and he loved every minute of it.
He was away from home for the first time in his life.
He told me of her and of others and had the highest regard for all his exes which I loved about him. He didn't call his exes bitches or gold diggers, whores slut. He never spoke of women in derogatory ways. He always said that they had a lot to put up with from him ! And that was true. In the end he could not overcome his alcochol problem and said to me to never ask him to stop as he wasn't going to. He liked the drink and that was it.
I was so grateful he said that and we split after ten years but remained friends. I heard from his Ma last year that he had married and I was delighted. I knew he liked having a woman around and I hope he has found happiness and gave up the booze as he needed to. He will always be remembered in my heart as a good guy as he was when sober. He was my biggest fan and wasn't scared to say so. he called me "The Darling" to others and his exes "The Ex Darlings".
I had never met a man like him and I probably never will. He was my match intellectually. He and I liked the same things, music, books, movies, food, going out, staying in, holidays, friends and families. He would mark articles he would want my opinion on. Buy me books he knew I would love, and the same with Cd's. He was no siant Nifty Nev but he certainly restored my faith in men with his love and affectionand adortaion and he will always be a benchmark for others in his own way.
But last night I watched an Intervention on a man that had alcoholism, also a young man. He was American, he was gay and he was drinking a bottle at least a day of Vodka. He had had Grand Mal seizures from trying to go cold Turkey, his family thought he would die as did his male partner. In the end they staged an Intervention on him with an expert and he agreed to treatment.
Three months later you saw the results. Absolutely amazing. A huge turnaround in his life. he was back to the man he was always destined to be. His Dad had been an alcoholic as had the Da's Mother and Father. Alcoholism is the most carried gene of all the genetic links. His Dad had gone cold turkey 21 years before. He had made it out and so had the gay son. It was fantastic to see that the family had never given up hope for the son and his partner had never given up hope either.
Luckily the son recognised that he was an alcoholic, Neve never would and just as violence became the elephant in the loungeroom for my ex husband, Nev's was the same. That was when I realised I picked the same type of men and that I was an enabler. Pardon the pun but it was a sobering thought. I needed people to "save" and then I realised that people had to save themselves. I didn't have the power to do so.
The men needed expert help. No amount of devoted love or care was going to change them or me. So I let them go and wished them both well mentally. I had my own life to get on with and the search is now on for my Man of my dreams. A good decent man and I soooo deserve. Thank you for reading. I will leave you with the words of a great Poet and singer Kris Kristofferson who Nifty loved.
See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans,
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile
Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams,
Which he spent like they was goin' outa style
And he keeps right on a'changin' for the better or the worse,
Searchin' for a shrine he's never found
Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse,
Or if the goin' up was worth the comin' down
CHORUS:
He's a poet, he's a picker
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.
He has tasted good and evil in your bedrooms and your bars,
And he's traded in tomorrow for today
Runnin' from his devils, Lord, and reachin' for the stars,
And losin' all he's loved along the way
But if this world keeps right on turnin' for the better or the worse,
And all he ever gets is older and around
From the rockin' of the cradle to the rollin' of the hearse,
The goin' up was worth the comin' down
CHORUS:
He's a poet, he's a picker
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.
Love Janette
Love Janette
If I could ban alcohol off the face of the earth, I would. It's such an unpredictable substance. It can make social encounters easier, smooth your tongue and make you feel great. A little tipsy. Someone once said,
"Half the relationships in the world would not have started without alcohol" The silver tongue devil ??
It sure is and I love a wine with a meal, a cougar and coke if I want to get really blotto and a champagne at races and weddings. Mmmmmmm. But when does heavy drinking turn into alcoholism, what is the difference?
I used to find with Nifty Nev there was no distinction. He literally could not stop once he started. He always had to have alcohol in his system or he would be ill. Really ill. Spending 5 days in bed at a time after a binge. And what a binge he could have. Neville could go on a binge lasting 5 days and still be standing at the end of it and still be coherent.
When I first met him and he took me out for breakfast once, I noticed his hands were shaking. I realised he was way too young to have Delirium Tremens and said so. He looked at me as if he had never ever been aware of it before. I'm sure he must have. He was just 30 and I was 42 and I was to stay with him for 10 years as the non alcoholic part of him was wonderful.
But the alcoholic part of him was terrible. Others indulged him in his drinking, mates, especially. He was very witty and very intelligent and very very funny. His favourite haunt was The Windsor Castle in Windsor. A great pub with Pink Elephants on the roof. After a soccer match on a Saturday at Fawkner Park the hotel would be packed with drinkers, players and their girlfriends, wives and us.
I was told Nev used to ride there before I knew him and the Landlord would chain his bike to the post outside so Nev could not ride home pissed. There were photos of him on the wall, naked, as he had a penchant for taking off his clothes completely when he was "in his cups". I took them down later.
He could sing, dance and be totally outrageous when he was drunk and as quiet as a mouse when sober. I used to call the drunk Nev, evil twin Tommy, as his first name was Thomas and second name Neville but everyone except for his Ma and friend Skinner, called him Nev, his Ma and Skinner called him Tammy (or it sounded like it ) Nev had loads of Irish friends which was always a good thing.
He could be a disgusting drunk as well but noone at the South Yarra Soccer Club or The Windsor Castle seemed to care. Most of them actively encouraged him to drink and I was fighting a losing battle if I thought, ever, I could get him to stop. He loved drinking, he loved what it did to him. He became the Big, personality he could never be when sober.
He was drunk when I first met him at Molly Blooms in Port Melbourne on January 16th 1995. He had just returned from Ireland after a trip to see his family in Dublin. He hadn't been home to see his girlfriend since flying in and it had been 5 days since he's touched down. He was all over the dance floor writhing drunkenly in time to the music. My foster daughter and male friend Frank had looked at him and looked away.
I was left on my own at a table as I was the designated driver for the day and the night and nifty Nev immediately sat beside me and said
'Give us a kiss, Blondie"
I was feeling very defiant that day as I was sober and everyone else was drunk so I did kiss him, what the hell ! Turned out he was a great kisser and was also supremely intelligent and I wondered how he had become this pathetic drunk at such a young age. Interesting !.
I finally dropped him at home after he had told me he had trouble "getting: women and I knew he was lying. he said he had relly small genitalia and I knew he was lying about that too. One bad behaviour tends to go with another and there was no reason to. He was just bullshitting me and himself. But not long after he became "my fella" and I insisted he tell his girlfriend beofre I would go out with properly and he did. He had to get enormously drunk to do it and for his trouble she gave him a good belting and he left her.
We had such fun, he was so young and I regarded myself as sooooo old. he didn't care about the age gap, never did and never will. He was like that. His first sexual experience had been with an older woman at the late age of 23. He was in Liverpool and led astray by a woman 20 years older and he loved every minute of it.
He was away from home for the first time in his life.
He told me of her and of others and had the highest regard for all his exes which I loved about him. He didn't call his exes bitches or gold diggers, whores slut. He never spoke of women in derogatory ways. He always said that they had a lot to put up with from him ! And that was true. In the end he could not overcome his alcochol problem and said to me to never ask him to stop as he wasn't going to. He liked the drink and that was it.
I was so grateful he said that and we split after ten years but remained friends. I heard from his Ma last year that he had married and I was delighted. I knew he liked having a woman around and I hope he has found happiness and gave up the booze as he needed to. He will always be remembered in my heart as a good guy as he was when sober. He was my biggest fan and wasn't scared to say so. he called me "The Darling" to others and his exes "The Ex Darlings".
I had never met a man like him and I probably never will. He was my match intellectually. He and I liked the same things, music, books, movies, food, going out, staying in, holidays, friends and families. He would mark articles he would want my opinion on. Buy me books he knew I would love, and the same with Cd's. He was no siant Nifty Nev but he certainly restored my faith in men with his love and affectionand adortaion and he will always be a benchmark for others in his own way.
But last night I watched an Intervention on a man that had alcoholism, also a young man. He was American, he was gay and he was drinking a bottle at least a day of Vodka. He had had Grand Mal seizures from trying to go cold Turkey, his family thought he would die as did his male partner. In the end they staged an Intervention on him with an expert and he agreed to treatment.
Three months later you saw the results. Absolutely amazing. A huge turnaround in his life. he was back to the man he was always destined to be. His Dad had been an alcoholic as had the Da's Mother and Father. Alcoholism is the most carried gene of all the genetic links. His Dad had gone cold turkey 21 years before. He had made it out and so had the gay son. It was fantastic to see that the family had never given up hope for the son and his partner had never given up hope either.
Luckily the son recognised that he was an alcoholic, Neve never would and just as violence became the elephant in the loungeroom for my ex husband, Nev's was the same. That was when I realised I picked the same type of men and that I was an enabler. Pardon the pun but it was a sobering thought. I needed people to "save" and then I realised that people had to save themselves. I didn't have the power to do so.
The men needed expert help. No amount of devoted love or care was going to change them or me. So I let them go and wished them both well mentally. I had my own life to get on with and the search is now on for my Man of my dreams. A good decent man and I soooo deserve. Thank you for reading. I will leave you with the words of a great Poet and singer Kris Kristofferson who Nifty loved.
See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans,
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile
Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams,
Which he spent like they was goin' outa style
And he keeps right on a'changin' for the better or the worse,
Searchin' for a shrine he's never found
Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse,
Or if the goin' up was worth the comin' down
CHORUS:
He's a poet, he's a picker
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.
He has tasted good and evil in your bedrooms and your bars,
And he's traded in tomorrow for today
Runnin' from his devils, Lord, and reachin' for the stars,
And losin' all he's loved along the way
But if this world keeps right on turnin' for the better or the worse,
And all he ever gets is older and around
From the rockin' of the cradle to the rollin' of the hearse,
The goin' up was worth the comin' down
CHORUS:
He's a poet, he's a picker
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.
Love Janette
Love Janette
