Slack Dog


The ultimate in slack-doggery – Fiona in her favorite position…


I got this email message from my buddy Mark a couple of days ago:

No “Ghost” lately?

No one likes a slack dog.



Short but sweet, right? I have been kind of tired recently, and I have been slacking off a bit with the blog – missing a day or two some weeks. I don’t want one of those Body By Jake, trainer dudes screaming in my face, “Squat down and give us another five blog posts!!!!” But I don’t want to be coddled either. This is the kind of message that makes me laugh and fires me up to write.


Speaking of squatting, did you see the video of Lenny Kravitz’s costume malfunction on stage, where his pants split and his penis fell out?


I really like it when people notice I haven’t written, and ask me if everything is “okay”. It reminds me that the reason I started this blog in the first place was to keep myself honest about my sobriety every day. It is a sign that I am tired, or blue or telling myself, “No one is reading, woe is me, what does it matter?” if I don’t write, so it is prudent to question where in the world I am, when the blog goes dark.


Sometimes my mind is just an empty, white room.


It’s the weekend. I’m at the beach, sober as the sun is rising on a brand new day.  I’m going to take advantage of God’s gifts. Go for a long walk. And this afternoon I might stockpile some blog posts.


Slack dog indeed.




Today I’m not drinking because I am dogged.


How come you’re not drinking?