Day 37, I suppose it's time to get around to doing the intro. Honestly, I wasn't sure I would be here long enough for this to matter, but that has changed. So here goes....How long has it been? I remember a dip of Happy Days on Mr. Peters front porch, must have been 8th grade. That would have been summer 1979. 38 years of some kind of tobacco use. Happy Days to Skoal to Levi Garrett to Red Man Plug to Copenhagen. I had made it to the major league of dipping. I don’t recall it being a “habit” as much as an act back in those years. I don’t remember reaching in my pocket to be sure I had it before I left the house, or that slight panic if I discovered I left without it. I don’t even remember thinking much about it, other than everyone I knew dipped or chewed in my little town. It was part of growing up, just part of the deal. But I know that panic now, like the old American express commercials, don’t leave home without it.
Mom and dad didnÂ’t seem to mind, I had the Copenhagen spittoon on my dash as a teen, and a brass one in my room. Man, those things could put off an odor. Over the years I have become a master at hiding it, save for the snuff-can breath, if I let you get close enough to smell. I could still take a dip in just about any setting. Home, work, church, job interview (to calm the nerves of course), hunting, fishing, whenever, wherever, I could get my nicotine fix.
IÂ’m an addict. Let me restate that. IÂ’m an ADDICT. Ever dug through the trash can for that can to get the last grains since it was too late to go to the store? Or, dig out the can you threw away last night the very next morning? Or, throw a can out your truck window only to go back for it. I did it. More than once. Addict is too kind, junkie is more like it. Slave is probably the most accurate description. College educated, gainfully employed for 27 years in the same industry, devoted husband, loving father, church deacon, church elder, avid outdoorsman, junkie. That last one doesnÂ’t seem to fit with the rest does it? Well thatÂ’s been me in a nutshell.
Something snapped in me about 9pm on November 15. No telling how many times I had "quit", but this time I felt different. I was looking at KTC, reading and scrolling, and finally realized enough was enough, time to break the chains. So I went to the bathroom, spit out the big dip I had, and for once, got serious. What changed? Earlier that night, my wife, who was recently pronounced in remission from Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, looked at me and asked, "are you still dipping?" I answered yes, sometimes. (Translation-if I'm awake) I thought about the challenges she had gone through and the warrior she is and how in the world could I ever let her down again by continuing to be a slave to the can? So I got serious about it. And the support came pouring in after I posted, from beans and LAW and samrs, and later others. I truly appreciate the support. I'm not a social media guy, so I won't be starting discussions on here. I'm not likely to comment much either. I will check on my brothers by text and email. But I can tell you the days I didn't make roll, LAW heard from me. He's a rock solid mentor for me. There have been horrible days, and there are still some ahead, but this time it will be different. This time instead of giving in to the cave, I will embrace the suck, even lean into it, and be thankful for it. This time the chains will break and the slave will run free.
