If you know me or read my blog it will come as no surprise when I tell you that I have a constant soundtrack of song lyrics running through my brain. For some reason today it’s the Pete Seeger song “If I Had a Hammer”. Seeger recorded it with The Weavers in 1950 but Peter, Paul & Mary made it a top ten hit in the sixties. It soon became a protest anthem, and according to Wikipedia “helped to spark the hippie movement”. More versions followed and I listened to them all.
I grew up in a house full of music. Our record players were never idle. Cheap guitars, makeshift drums and used amps ushered in the garage band era which eventually gave way to more ambitious pursuits and my brothers all became musicians. The music continues to live on in the next generation as one of my talented nieces and nephews is poised for a Grammy nomination.
But it started with my parents. People often ask us “where did the musical talent come from?” The short answer is “who knows?” Neither of my parents played an instrument or studied music. But they had a vast collection of vinyl and wildly varying tastes. On a typical Sunday morning the stack of records on the turntable might include Bob Dylan, Harry Belafonte, The Beatles, Englebert Humperdinck and a Broadway soundtrack or two.
But folk music was the core of my listening back then as my parents’ music became mine. Pete Seeger and The Hammer Song. Arlo Guthrie, Steve Goodman and John Prine. Judy Collins, Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell. (My sister Virgil got her nickname from a Joan Baez song.) And Simon and Garfunkel. The same Christmas I got my first guitar I also got their new album “Bridge Over Troubled Waters”. And lo and behold, another hammer song! This one, curiously titled “El Condor Pasa” started with the lyric “I’d rather be a hammer than a nail”. Well duh, wouldn’t anyone? I mean who wants to get hammered?
Well, it turns out I did. I was 13 that Christmas and I was 14 the first time I blacked out from drinking. Once I got a taste of what it was like to dissolve into the warmth and comfort and ease that alcohol provided, life was never the same. When I drank I was cool. I was confident. I was smarter and prettier. I was comfortable in my skin. So I drank. And I didn’t waste much time on getting “high” or “tipsy” or “buzzed”. I got hammered. That’s what we did. There are lots of great words to describe being drunk and we had a few favorites: wasted, totaled, sloshed, shitfaced…but mostly we got hammered.
At 13, I was happy to sit in my room and sing along to the only record I owned…for a few weeks. But babysitting money only went so far. So I joined the Columbia Record Club and got TWELVE MORE. For only 99 cents. Never mind that in ignoring the fine print I’d agreed to an onslaught of “monthly selections” at record store prices plus ridiculous shipping charges. Nonetheless I then joined the Record Club of America and got ANOTHER dozen. Because enough was never enough, I always wanted more. More of everything. So the unwanted records stacked up and the bills rolled in and the procrastination and denial created a nagging fear that never really left me. But if I got hammered I didn’t have to think about it.
Eventually my parents bailed me out, but instead of being a valuable lesson, it was the beginning of a slow, destructive cycle…of wanting more, and using alcohol and drugs to tune out the consequences.
I’ve heard it said that we hit our bottom when we get sick and tired of being sick and tired. But we can’t just put down the drugs and alcohol. We need help and support. For me, Alcoholics Anonymous provided that support but many people choose alternative pathways such as therapy, non-secular based support groups or a recovery coach. The important thing is to have a human connection. Being honest and accountable is critical.
In A.A. we often talk about the tools of recovery. Contact with other alcoholics, going to meetings, journaling, prayer, meditation, and being of service are some of these tools. Without them, sooner or later something will feel so overwhelming that it feels like the only solution is to turn back to alcohol or drugs.
So just like a carpenter reaches for a hammer, we can reach for the telephone, or our journal, or any of the other tools that we’ve been given to help us through those crisis moments.
And reaching into our recovery toolkit is way better than getting hammered.
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