Archives -Choices p12

Mike is a short, scruffy looking character who used to possess the kind of attitude that -- well... if it belonged to a Doberman, he'd have steady work in a junkyard. His attitude defined who he was and what his world used to be about.

If that sounds like the beginning of someone's' story at your last meeting, then I suppose this is the story of Mike's journey in Recovery. And if you don't think that your pets don't go into Recovery with you, just read on.

We met him confined in cell block #2 at the local Humane Society. He had plenty of time in his 4 dog years on the 'outside' to develop his protective personality. He became an accomplished role player, a con dog, and if necessary, an out-and-out liar to save his furry rear end from any further discomfort. Unfortunately, he lost the part of himself that was able to turn off his overworked self defense, and stop seeing everything as a threat.

To us he appeared to be a dignified, aloof, mature dog. No silly-puppy stuff for him, and that was fine with us. We were a couple of ol' duffs too, and not in the mood for puppy piddles and all that nonsense. We had serious stuff to contend with - after all, we were In Recovery (big capitol R), and had no time to fool around, for Pete's sake. We had OUR BIG PLAN to work on. :-)

Well, to test the waters and to see if Mike would tolerate our cat, the staff at the shelter allowed us to walk him on a leash across the pen yard over to the Cat House. Mike maintained his aloof posture. It seemed he could have cared less about the feline species. He simply watched them from a calm sitting position. Next test - people. No problem, he just watched them too. Final test - other dogs. Well, a better dog couldn't be found, he just stood there with an amused look in his eyes and wagged his tail. Reassured we signed the papers and took him home.

Unknown to us, our cat Meatloaf, also an adopted refugee and a former dumpster diver from the inner city, had plenty of attitude of his own when it came to having a dog in his house.

The next few weeks were like watching a video of a train wreck, permanently locked in instant replay on somebody else's remote control. Mike seriously disliked any human being who dared to set foot on his block. He very seriously disliked any other dog on the planet. And in particular, he positively - absolutely - without a doubt, hated all cats. Especially Meatloaf.

We had been conned in a major way. Worse yet, there was no return policy at the shelter.

So to the Vet we went. We took Mike to have his 'manhood' adjusted. Partly because of the terms of the animal shelter adoption, but mostly with the hope that it would 'alter' his outlook. It didn't. Took the cat too. Didn't do anything for him either. The Vet told us that Mike needed to be 'socialized'. We had to laugh. We had heard that line before, only it was in reference to us in our pre-recovery days.

Yes, Mike definitely has a sordid past, as most of us do. In fact, one of the few differences between Mike and many of us in 12 Step Programs is that he has four legs. The Vet suggested that we seek therapy for him, a version of counseling for pooches (hint - we were living in California at the time). Mike did, after all, have abandonment issues from having too many past owners, and we knew that he had done 'hard time' in the lock up for months. But lacking funds for expensive hound shrinking, we decided to try to work with the situation on our own. So much for OUR BIG PLAN.

So there they were, in our previously peaceful home, two reprobates, two attitudes, two different beings learning how to co-exist in their shared world, learning everything over again from the beginning. A very familiar story was unfolding.

It was slow going for many months, Mike's hard shell was tough. But there finally seemed to be a type of understanding that dawned on him. He and that cat overcame their differences, no doubt because of his strong desire to survive.

Today, many years later, Mike is a happy, goofy dog. He actually likes a few other people now, and his back fence dog pal is his best buddy. Meatloaf has been known to sleep curled up next to him now and then too. His 'recovery' is nurtured by a very simple concept; acceptance, consistency, and an unconditional love given freely by us. In a way, I suppose these critters are involved in their own version of a recovery program right along with us. The similarities are sometimes surprising, but before you accuse me of totally losing what few marbles I have left: No, we're not starting up any ALA-PET meetings. Yet.

Seriously though, on those days when everything in a 12 Step Program appears confusing and unreachable, we look at that scruffy dog and wish we had his version of trust, willingness, humor, and his ability to live one day at a time. It's amazing what kind of inspiration is right under our feet.

GIVE THANKS
Call someone in the program
     Call your sponsor
               Call a newcomer
                      CALL SOMEONE
                                    call anyone
                                            CALL YOUR Higher Power (pray)
                                                                                 Let your Higher Power call you (meditate)
                                                                         Drink a glass of water
                                                                             Take a 10 minute break
                                                                                  Take a walk
                                                                                TAKE A TRIP
                                                                                                   DON'T TAKE A TRIP
                                                                          think think think
                                                    stop thinking so much
                                                              don't crack your knuckles
                                                   CRACK A JOKE
                                          crack a smile
                  Make a new friend
Ask someone how they are - - and then listen
Invite someone in the program to a party
Party Plan - arrive late/ leave early/ don't go
   give something you have to someone who needs it
       READ THE 12 STEPS - AGAIN
               read spiritual literature
                           read my lips - no compulsive behavior !
                                        forgive someone
                                    forgive yourself
                                                       WRITE A GRATITUDE LIST
                                                                                  write your fourth step - again
                                                                 Write a story for this magazine !
                                                                         add to this list
                                                                              SHOW UP FOR THE
                                                                                                          PROGRAM -
                                                                                                              NO MATTER
                                                                                                                 WHAT !

Traditionally, the beginning of a new Year is a time for making resolutions. A time to make a list of the goals left unattended in the past and "resolve" to focus attention and energy on them in the new year.

This year, this list has caused me a bit of grief as I noted how many of my good intentions were left over from the list that I had made the year before.

I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't able to accomplish all the things I resolved to do, or why I couldn't seem to attain all the neat goodies that I felt were such necessary additions to my life.

Somehow, this "New Year's Resolution" business had backfired, and instead of being motivating and encouraging, it had a rather depressing effect on me.

So just out of curiosity, I looked up the word 'resolution' in the dictionary. The old Webster's edition I had listed the primary definition for that word as "The act of resolving or reducing to a simpler form".

"Reduce to a simpler form" -- could that mean that instead of complicating my life with additions, I could simplify it with
reductions? Was this another lesson in keeping it simple? (the message is indeed carried in the strangest places)

So, I went back to the list with a new definition, an eraser, and a lighter heart.

As I completed my list and looked it over, the words were very familiar and comforting. There were twelve "goals" on my page, twelve suggestions to follow to keep my life simple, twelve 'resolutions' for the new year.

The above was given to me years ago, I have no idea who wrote it, but it never seems to loose its' appeal
for me. I read it often to remind me of the differences in those who might try to masquerade as friends.

Being an observer of human nature, and a bit of a closet philosopher, it has always interested me that an
apathetic attitude appears to be a contagious disease spread by a virus. And the result of that disease seems to be that apathetic, give-a-darn, don't-get-involved humans are everywhere. I don't know why.
Probably fear and selfishness. Should start a group for them - Apathetics Anonymous. But I guess they
wouldn't care. Would they?

My question is: I don't know why we, in recovery programs, feel as though the apathy disease is
somehow excusable because of our addictions. I've heard it a hundred times. "You can't expect me to do
that! I'm an alcoholic! (or whatever)". Well, here's an idea... expect it from yourself.

There is nothing better than being an active part of some cause or way of life you believe in. The next best thing is being around people who are. I don't think it matters much whether or not anybody's judgment value of that activity is good or bad.

I once knew an extremely happy bank robber. No kidding. This person made you happy that he was in the room. Even if his chosen way of life was judged as illegal, he was one happy camper anyway. The irony of the fact that he lived every minute of every day to its' fullest enjoyment was not lost on me.

On the other extreme, I also knew a policeman who had that same indefinable joy that just radiated
outward to others. The joy was from doing what he believed in. Very different people, same stuff. Both
were unafraid to commit to real friendships, they gave of themselves unselfishly and with real gusto. Both
were inspirational people who were dedicated to what they believed in. Just being around them made you
want to get off the couch and go DO something too.

Unfortunately, I have also known entirely too many "nothing people". If you want a good way to suffer from every 'ism' in the Abnormal Psychology textbook, just surround yourself with some of these folks for awhile.

The trick is knowing which kind of person an individual is before it's too late and you find yourself
becoming a newcomer in a different type of recovery group. The only answer I have is this - if you have
ever depended on one of the "nothing people" for much of anything, hopefully the mistake won't be
repeated too often.

Of course I suppose it would be better if associations with bank robbers were kept to a minimum, and
perhaps policemen too for some of us, but the point is - stick with people who have a passion for their life
and a conviction of their beliefs, and the ability to act on them. That passion is contagious. That passion
spills over and the fire is shared. You don't have to agree with everyone's ideals or causes or ways of
doing things, just respect their ability to keep on trying, and hopefully learn from them. Just please don't
ever be one of the "nothing people".

Do you think this could be a part of what is meant by that phrase we hear so often in recovery,
"Stick With the Winners" ?

I remember how overwhelming and confusing it can be to be new in a 12 Step Program. Going to meetings, trying to listen carefully, thinking that some comprehension is sure to come. But the concepts are blurry, the 'jargon' is a foreign language, and the jokes seem to be for the other people.

But something inside says to pay attention,'cause you really don't want to forget anything that's said or suggestions that are given, even if you don't understand everything.

How do you make sense out of all of it, and apply everything to your life and do it right and know when to do it, how to do it, etc., etc., etc. ?!?!

You don't. At least not all at once. That's the point. All that 'One Day At A Time' stuff. How about one hour at a time. Maybe even one thought at a time.

An old Indian man, my tribal brother, gave me some advise. He was a tired but victorious warrior of penitentiaries and the hard city streets. He sensed my confusion, and told me not to wear myself out desperately trying to remember and apply everything all at once.

He suggested that I think of all the things I heard in meetings and read in the literature as thoughts preserved in see-through jars. These jars are then placed on a bookshelf in the 'living room' of my mind. My only job would be to believe that my HP would help me open the right jar and release the needed information for my use at the appropriate time.

I close my eyes now and see this imaginary living room in my mind. It has a comfortable chair and a soft light. The dog is laying on the rug keeping me company and there are good books on the shelves with all those jars. It is a place
that I can go when I need to rest. I just sit quietly and talk to my HP, and ask for the right jar for that moment in my recovery.

In other words, I learned to trust that all that good information about recovery is stored somewhere in my head, and when the time comes to use it, it will be there for me.

I learned what faith means from my old friend. His message was "Keep your beginnings simple, and learn to trust."

"I feel the more I know God, that He would sooner we did wrong in loving than never
love for fear we should do wrong." Father Andrew

A contributor sent us the following story. A 14 year old boy named Ben wrote it for a school assignment:

In today's world of sports, entertainment, and politics, the high achievers are referred to as heroes and role models. Unfortunately, time after time, we watch too many of these people crash and burn.

Objective observation tells us that there are very few contemporary role models out there. Either society seems to effectively sabotage any potential hero that appears on the horizon, or the so-called role models do it to themselves. The media, of course, insures that we don't miss a moment of the drama involved in their fall from grace.

Question -- Do we have such high expectations for our heroes and role models that even a canonized saint would fall short of the mark?

A better question might be -- Are the concepts of 'hero' and 'role model' becoming confused?

Something is very wrong if a talented star athlete is seen as a role model, only to be convicted of assault at the height of his career. Something is wrong if a popular politician is called a role model only to be arrested for spousal abuse.

Perhaps one difference is that a hero is someone who can be admired for their talent, skills and abilities in their chosen field, and a role model is someone who can be looked up to for what they've done with their life and how they did it.

A sports 'hero' is just that. Nothing wrong with wanting to emulate and pattern your skills after someone famous. You can pick your heroes based on their skills and draw the line at what they do on their own time when they're not performing their job. That might make choosing a hero easier.

What's hard is choosing a role model. Especially for a young person. A role model might be as close as a relative, a teacher or a friend. The hard part is knowing that person well enough to make the decision. Maybe it's more a matter of watching how that person handles the hard times than how they handle the good times. That makes the decision easier too.

Can a person be a hero and a role model? Absolutely. Sadly, that doesn't happen often. At a time when we, as a society, desperately need that combination of individual(s) in a position of high visibility and popularity, the shortage is painfully evident.

This young man's story might be a reminder that most of the time it's not necessary to look too far for a role model, and it's always a good idea to double check the choice of your heroes.

On some of the bronze anniversary tokens (chips) collected by members of 12 Step Programs is an inscription that says "To Thine Own Self Be True".

Why then do I often hear the sentiment expressed in recovery circles that "We are all the same"? Once even being told that "We are all bananas on the same bunch"!
(A metaphor I found darkly humorous)...

There is, of course, truth in the statement that we do share a common bond - our addictions. But what happens to our sense of individuality in recovery? Is wanting, even needing, to have a sense of individuality just another form of self-will?

Certainly our interpretation of 'Higher Power' defines us as individuals. So does our choice of which 12 Step Program or group we are most comfortable with. And surely how we apply these programs to our lives is our own personal decision, and that is ultimately the definitive exercise in individuality.

Yes, we are all bound by the stamp of our addictions, our shared need and mutual goals. But I can't help but wonder if a one-sided message isn't being sent. With too much emphasis on our 'same-ness', are we sending the message that in order to 'belong' (once again seeking that elusive state), we should strive to undo our unique individuality ?

Shouldn't we be putting equal emphasis on those positive and productive differences that truly make us strong recovering individuals in our own right?

To Thine Own Self Be True. Powerful statement.
Striving to find the balance. Equally powerful goal.

Frankly, I don't choose to define myself as just another banana on anyone's bunch.

If you really like those edible metaphors, and want to mentally picture your friends in a rather unique way - how about "Different Fruit in the Same Bowl'.

We are given free will from the moment of our birth. The choices we make determine the paths we travel upon, bringing results of joy, sorrow, ecstasy, and pain.

There have been many roads to explore in my life that have brought me to the present. My choices resulted in pain compared to a sharp edged razor cutting and tearing into my inner self leaving a hole, which I elected to fill with drugs and alcohol. They worked for a while to anesthetize the pain of
the choices I made.

The disease of addiction carried me down to the depths of a bottomless pit where I felt safe in the cold darkness of my making. My disease progressed rapidly in a turbulent flight along the inescapable route of my choice. It left me feeling empty like a seashell washed up on the shore that has been vacated by its
recent owner.

I did not have the tools of honesty, hope, and faith, nor the willingness to surrender and admit I was the problem. The comfort I once experienced in the darkness of that icy pit of hell I had chosen was no longer available. The drugs and alcohol were not the friends I thought they were. They had become like enemies waiting for their adversary to weaken so they could be victorious. They had turned on me as a deadly poisonous snake waiting to strike with its venom. My disease continued to beckon to me as a lover awaits their beloved’s return so the emptiness can be filled once again.

The insanity of active addiction lifted just for a moment and the choice became clear. Would it be life or death, darkness or light? My choice was life on life’s terms.

Today, with the help of 12 step recovery programs, I have been given life and the tools needed to make healthy choices.

Copyright 1997 by Rhona. Authors permission to reprint this material must be obtained.
Contact Rhona at her homepage Welcome to My World

Can part of the 12th Step be interpreted to mean that we can also 'carry the message' to someone who's already in recovery, but who's sick and got put in the hospital? (Sounds O.K. so far)

The message could be one of concern for that person and an offer to share some hope and strength with them. (That doesn't sound too hard)

If you've ever been in the hospital, you know what a drag it is. No matter what the health problem is that landed you there - hospitals are miserable !!

At the mere mention of visiting someone in the hospital, I can already hear the same muttered responses
that I gave while discussing this matter with Wise Sponsor. (It's amazing how we can get a good idea, then spend hours finding all the reasons why we can't follow through on it)

1. "I don't DO hospitals, and that's it." (Wise Sponsor told me - "The person in that bed probably didn't
want to DO hospitals either - stop and think about it.")

2 "I can't stand the hospital smells." (Wise Sponsor barked - "So what. Hold your breath or get
over it.")

3. "I hate hospitals, I find them depressing." (Wise Sponsor sputtered - "Yeah, sickness and operations
and thinking about your own mortality can be real depressing, especially if you're the one in the bed!")

4. "But... hospitals scare me." (Wise Sponsor not so patiently said - "Uh-huh, so imagine being
on the receiving end of those tubes, needles, tests and surgeries. Now that's scary."

5. "My ______ (mother, husband, best friend etc.) died in the hospital, and it brings back unhappy
memories for me." (Wise Sponsor glared at me and said "Well, that was then and this is Now.")

Wise Sponsor, who obviously did not have a clue about how to give subtle, gentle suggestions, continued:
"Have you noticed that what you're saying has too much to do with "I" and "ME" and not much to do with giving and caring about that lump of humanity lying under the sheets in that hospital bed?" I hate it when Wise Sponsor is right. I really do.

So let's say this visit to a hospitalized acquaintance is something you're going to do. You've re-thought your position, and said a prayer or two over it. You want to do this 12 Step thing in some form or other.

The next afternoon you have some time and you decide to get past your stuff and make the effort to get this visit done. Gonna 'Carry the Message'. Next obstacle - how do you find out which room they're in? Good question. Do you walk up to the front desk at the hospital and ask the nice pink-smocked volunteer "Gee, have you got an ________ (alcoholic, addict, gambler, co-dependent, over-eater) in here? I want to visit him." Yeah, right. Unfortunately, hospitals don't publicly index the patients according to their compulsive behaviors. That list must be a secret. I still believe they have one.

Then there's that darn anonymity thing. Here's the conversation with the pink-smocked volunteer:
"I'd like to know what room Sam is in please?"
"Sam who?"
"Well, I don't know his last name, but he has a nice smile, brown hair, a huge black dog, drives a blue Ford truck with a dent in the right front fender and he drinks his coffee with 2 sugars and I'm here to Carry the Message." (All said with big fat grin)

Here's where you get 'the look' from that nice, grey haired lady as she furtively scans the hall to see where the Security Guard is. You can also tell she hopes you came in alone, and that there aren't more like you lurking in the lobby.

Maybe you're still very determined, even after that pointless conversation, and you get the brilliant idea to sneak on the elevator and conduct a bed to bed search (I never said all my ideas were perfect). Not a very cool thing to do in a hospital. The nurses and aides can get pretty testy about this, as I found out. Besides, you'll probably see some stuff in those rooms that you wish you hadn't. At the very least, it's not very respectful of other people's privacy.

A part of the solution could include making more of an effort to get to know the folks we sit next to at meetings. Knowing them beyond their first name and beyond their shared 'story' in the group. A few moments taken after a meeting or an offer of a cup of coffee at the 'meeting after the meeting' can go a long way towards getting out of ourselves and out of our comfortable clique of regular buddies. That person who appeared to be aloof and stand-offish might just be shy or scared.

So... lesson learned (for me). No more commando raids on the local hospital. Better to gather the proper information the right way before the 'Carry the Message' visit.

Wise Sponsor, who really did flunk Subtle School, also stuck a book in my face and told me to read what it had to say about the 12th Step. That book was AA's "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions". Good stuff, no matter what version of the 12 steps you're working.

I appear to be on a hospital topic this month, as well as doing some thinking about 12 step work. And these thoughts seem to pertain pretty much to AA. It see that donation can in the basket every meeting. That H & I can into which we sometimes stuff a buck or two. The money goes to support 12th step work and literature in hospitals and institutions.

I used to live in a small town in California. The hospital was a local community facility, with only three floors. The top floor was reserved for those with 'mental' problems, which also included (by their definition) alcoholics and addicts. Needless to say, that floor was heavily secured - limited visitation
by family members only. No opportunity to do old fashioned 12 step visits as described in the original AA literature.

It used to be that a hospital's 'detox' ward was a rich source for 12th step work for those of us who might be inclined to carry the message there. It's not that easy anymore. Open detox wards in community hospitals appear to be a thing of the past. No opportunity to go find an active alcoholic and try to reach them with the message of the program. Residential treatment centers for substance abuse and alcoholism are the replacement in most areas of this country.

Can a person who wants to do some 12 step work just walk into one of these treatment centers, roam the halls, pick out a person (client) and start 12 stepping him or her? Doubtful.

Many of these facilities have strong feelings about individual "outsiders" messing with the counselor's treatment plans for their clients. Additionally, a lot of these places have security people hired from the ranks of the of the local professional wrestlers union. Good luck wandering around by yourself.

This little local hospital that served my community only allowed H & I people to drop off literature for folks on the 3rd floor. They did allow someone from a 12 Step Program to visit if the patient requested it. But that only served to accomodate patients who probably already had exposure to a recovery program. If you don't know what to ask for in the way of help, you can't very well ask for it. Other than that, our local H & I was limited to arranging meetings at the county jail. It was almost as though we only had the 'I' in "H & I". The "H" was lost in a bygone era.

So, do you classify a private drug and alcohol treatment center as a hospital or an institution? Either way, most ordinary meeting-goers who have a desire to do 12 step work cannot easily access the residents. Strange situation.

Which, I guess, is what my thoughts have been about lately. The need for us to use our imagination and creativity in relation to our need to give away what we have been given. It isn't easy sometimes, but it can be done. It would be interesting to hear from some of you regarding creative ways you may have found to do 12 step work. As our respective recovery programs grow into this new century, we probably need to learn to accomodate the changes.

I have to remember that I need to remain anonymous at the level of Charlie in the public eye. I have a
responsibility in recovery to be the best example I can possibly be.

I used to say, proudly, in meetings "I'm an alcoholic and I don't care who knows it. I'm not
ashamed of being in recovery. Hell, everyone knew I was a drunk and now maybe I can help the next guy if he knows I am there."

I had to learn that when I proclaim my affiliation to AA to all and sundry, I am taking on the role of being the local poster child for AA. If I burp in public (as I am prone to), people MAY assume that all AAers do the same. If I act inappropriately in public, then I put all AAers in the same boat.

It was a painful lesson to learn and one that we had to apply in our District when it came to speakers.
The gung-ho types that wanted to "save the world" were most often not willing to submerge their quirks (of which I have plenty) when in the public eye. AA has come a long way from the days when people thought of us as "weak willed" and unable to compete with the "normies". It is up to us all to uphold the traditions and present our best face.

I had to learn to be the best me I could be, in and out of the rooms. This meant I needed to let the horseplay stop when the meeting started, especially true in open meetings. As I learn to be an adult in
recovery, I learn to act the way I actually am - which, as I grow in AA, becomes the way I want to be - a
credit to this glorious program and to the God of my Understanding.

Another facet of anonymity is the need to be careful to not be so anonymous that our fellow drunks
can't find us. I've seen times when people have been unwilling to participate in local health fairs for
fear that someone would recognize the person at the table doling out literature as a drunk.

In summation, I find anonymity to be a delicate balancing act between my responsibility in the public
eye and my willingness to reach out to the next alky.

There was a time when these words may as well have been written in a foreign language they sure never passed my lips. I have a little note card that says " Few blame themselves until they have exhausted all other possibilities". I keep the card in my daily meditation book, so I don't forget the hard-earned lessons of taking responsibility for myself and my actions.

I figure this 'responsibility thing' sets in when we start to use more than two brain cells at the same time and actually make a choice or decision about something. For me there's nothing worse to behold than an recovering alcoholic with a decision to make. Not a pretty sight. But if we are to be truly free, that freedom must be paid for. The payment is the willingness to stop the buck at our own doorstep and be able to say 'I am responsible'.

I've heard that addicted folks have arrested emotional development, and that the various programs teach us how to grow beyond that arrested point in time. That truism was brought home for me as I observed the neighbors children blaming each other for a broken toy in the yard. I must sayit was reminiscent of my pals and me in our early days. I had seen which child broke the toy - of course it was the one who was pointing furiously at the others.

Back in the dark ages, when I rode my horse to college in two feet of snow (yeah, right), I was accidentally allowed to take some philosophy courses. Big mistake. Never give an alcoholic a philosophical puzzle. Some of us will squirrel around with it for years and never get anything else done.
Anyway... I do remember something from one of those courses that goes like this - "If you have the knowledge of something, then you have the responsibility of that knowledge".

Charlie's contribution this month certainly pointed out to me the lack of focus in my neck of the woods on the topic of responsibility that we, as recovering people, have. Not only to others like us, but to the rest of society. If we choose to announce our recovery status to others, then we will be judged accordingly. And that judgment might color another person's perceptions of what all people in recovery are like. That's some heavy knowledge to own. That knowledge does, indeed, come with responsibility.

Three monkeys sat in a coconut tree
discussing things as they are said to be.
Said one to the others, "Now listen, you two,
There's a rumor around that can't be true -
That man descended from our noble race!
The very idea is a great disgrace.

Here's another thing a monkey won't do,
go out at night and get in a stew,
or use a gun or club or a knife
to take some other monkey's life.
Perhaps man descended, the ornery cuss -
But brother, he sure didn't descend from us !!

" Anonymity "	Some insights from Charlie
" I Am Responsible "	...aren't I ?
" The Monkey Story "	An ironic little poem

" The Parts of 12 "	Variations & some humor on Step 12
"About the H in H & I "	Has the H been lost in the last century?

" Heroes & Role Models "	Is there a difference?
" Bananas on the Same Bunch "	Is that what we all are?
" Choices & Solutions "	Powerful essay by Rhona

" The Nothing People "	Please don't become one of these folks
" Jars on the Shelf "	An interesting mental image
"About this Love thing..."	'Wisdom Quotes' for Valentine's Day

" Four Legged Mike "	A humorous canine recovery story
" Start the Year Right "	A neat 12 Step 'Things To Do' list
" An Answer from Webster's "	Guess where I found the 'message'