Don't You Wish You Were Me? I Know I Do.

I’ve gotten a new job here lately. Christy has appointed me as her “life coach.” Which, what the hell a life coach is I don’t know, but the pay isn’t bad. She drives me to the store, brings me dinner sometimes, and pretends I’m funny. Also, she gave me a DVD player.

The trips to various stores are the main component. I haven’t driven in over two years, and Huntington is an extremely inconvenient town if you don’t drive. Within walking distance of my apartment (which is, after all, downtown and less than three blocks from campus) there are exactly: 0 liquor stores, 0 coin laundries, 0 book stores (minus the two comic book stores), and 0 grocery stores (unless you count the Campus Carryout, and if you saw it, you wouldn’t). On the other hand, there are three body piercing and tattoo parlors, so that’s something anyway.

Plenty of bars, too. I live in 4½ Alley, which is right behind 4th Avenue. On 4th, between 9th and 16th Streets, the bars are: The Stadium Lounge, Remedies, TJ’s, Stumblers, Jake's (thanks, Megan), the Kit Kat, O’Barney’s, Goodfellas, the Union, Mango's, Maxie’s, Hank's, St. Mark’s, and Tapas (someone let me know if I've missed one). That’s a lot of bars in a few blocks, and it doesn’t count all the bars that are just off 4th on the cross streets, like Sharkey's. Not bad. Everything you need is nearby, except anyplace to buy groceries, liquor, or books, or do your laundry.

So, yeah, the rides are key. Every time someone wants me to go do something, the first thing we have to do is establish how I’m going to get there. Between Sheila and Beth Anne (and now Christy) I can usually get where I need to be. Still, people ask me all the time, “Why don’t you just get a car?” The ready answer is, “You buyin’?”

The actual reason, of course, is that I’m an alcoholic. And although awareness of the condition is both necessary and liberating, it isn’t enough. You have to live with it, which means making allowances for it, rearrange a bit. The principal allowance I make is not owning a car.

I am perfectly aware on an intellectual level that driving drunk is stupid and dangerous enough to damn near qualify as evil. The problem is that, when you’ve been drinking, you do not necessarily function on an intellectual level. I can go to a bar every night for a year and not drive, but that doesn't mean that I won't eventually. Sometimes I just decide that I'm invincible and infallible, and if I have a car when that happens, I'm sure to drive. I'm not the only one who has these moments; many people do, and choose not to admit it to themselves. I, however, have an avowed history of it, and that makes car ownership too risky.

So I might say that being able to reach the decision, rationally, not to drive, and to stick to it in spite of inconveniences major and minor, qualifies me to be a life coach. I've evidenced an awareness of my own weaknesses, as well as a sense of obligation to society, that I frankly find downright remarkable if not goshdarn cute.

"On the other hand," I hear you saying, "wouldn’t it have been more clever to cut back on your drinking, or quit altogether? Wouldn’t your choice of an addiction over a necessity of modern life automatically DIS-qualify you as a life coach?" To you, I say: shut up. And also: shut up.

* * * * * * *

Well, okay, yeah maybe. Unless part of a life coach’s job is to teach slavish devotion by example. I do have a knack for that, but I don't know if that's what's required.

Which brings us back to the original question: What exactly the hell is a life coach? What are the qualifications? Is there a degree program, and am I in fact a charlatan?

I don’t know what a life coach is, precisely. Actually, to be honest, I don’t know even approximately. If it means living a life worthy of emulation, then I’d have to say I’m a bad choice. Mid-thirties, chemically dependent, no career, no future or prospects…if you’re looking for the surest route to Dead End Street, Nowheresville, I can definitely draw you a map. But, you know, not many folks want that kind of guidance (and anyway, as far as this particular destination is concerned, most folks have an unerring sense of direction).

Still, I keep hearing that life’s a journey, not a destination. And I can certainly demonstrate how to enjoy the trip, no matter what kind of train wreck is waiting at the end. That kind of coaching I can do. Because, when it comes right down to it, I'm happier than anyone else I know. I've got a very simple life, and it appeals to me. Really, if you had my worldview plus any sort of ambition whatsoever, you could make quite a difference in the world.

I don't know, though, that I can teach anyone else to live like I do. The "wisdom" I've accumulated...well, #1 isn't terribly wise, although it can sound like it when the person I'm talking to has been drinking; and #2 probably wouldn't work for anyone else, because a big part of my personal sense of peace is derived just from distancing myself from things. It's easy for me to say "well, fuck this, then," because I actually don't care about the things that other people do—but I don't know that I can teach someone not to care about things. People have to learn to let things go on their own; if you make someone let go of something, it's more like taking it away from them.

Still, I have lived a good life, and maybe some of what I've learned from it might qualify as words of wisdom after all. I'll tell you what: because I'm feeling charitable, here's a freebie for you: Train yourself to enjoy bitching. Bitch about everything, whether it bothers you or not. And be funny with it, and get carried away with it, and practice so you're good at it and learn to take joy from it. Because if you're happy bitching, then you can never be completely unhappy. Bad things stop being obstacles and become opportunities to hone your craft.

There. That's a free lesson. If you want any more wisdom, you'll have to pay tuition. Except Christy, of course; hers is all settled.