Coming from a military family, I had learned at an early age to expect sudden changes in life and had learned to take them in stride. Moving 6 times before the age of 8, we spent 8 years in Jacksonville, Florida; my father stationed out of Mayport. There was chit-chat about a new set of orders, but I chose not to believe it. I had forged so many friendships that I thought would last my entire life, or at least through high school.
Things got bad. The 'for sale' sign was in the yard for two weeks. Mind you, this was prior to the housing bubble. The house sold and we left to carve out a new life in a foreign place. I was kicking and screaming the whole way.
Though I had been living in Chesapeake, Virginia for a year, I had made few friends. It just wasn't the same. No friendly neighborhood kids to get up at the crack of dawn with and go fishing at the docks. No hopping across the rocks to the adjacent fish camp for a game of billiards. No nasty neighbor trying to run my howling banshee of a remote control car over with his Cherokee.
My parents were never big drinkers. They had a lightly stocked liquor cabinet for company and if they did partake, it was always fewer than three drinks. I began to drink, heavily, crying myself to sleep every night over half a handle of vodka or rum or whatever was left in the cupboard. My parents knew the entire time, but chose to look the other way.
At 16 I tried out for the golf team my sophomore year of high school and didn't make it past the second cut. That year I worked hard at it and improved enough to make the team the following season, hard enough to start in the four-spot of six starting players. It seemed to fill some of the hole left by my uprooting; the shared love for a sport between teammates is a special bond.
Seeing my coach spit out the brown gunk endlessly at practices and matches got me interested. We both love golf, so I would probably enjoy some chaw, right? I was right. I cant pin down a first offense, but I do remember what the buzz was like for the first year or so. It was incredible, 10 minutes in heaven. Miss a putt? Have a dip!
I am proud to say that I have cut down on my drinking significantly in the past two years. After making a commitment to become healthier I have lost fifty pounds since Jan 1, 2012. I can run a mile in under 7:30, do fifty pushups, and 10 pullups! I'm not trying to brag, but I will have to keep reminding myself of this testament to my will-power when kicking the can. Kicking the can is the only way I can become the man I always knew that I could be, and tomorrow is day 1.
I look forward to meeting many of you and swapping stories.
Charlie
