Little Gratitudes

I saw a musical tribute to Steven Sondheim entitled "Sondheim on Sondheim" at the old Studio 54 this past Saturday   It was, of course, wonderful.

I used to see just about everything on Broadway, back when I was an active drunk and Type A personality because, if you are successfully busy maintaining a "front" of normalcy well, then by God, things ARE normal and there's nothing to see here -- no problems that need fixing because, you see, you are a "functional alcoholic", like me!  And then I lost everything.  And then I got sober.

And for that I am grateful.

And now I'm getting it back.  Oh, not the tons of money I used to make, but enough to keep my life comfortable and cozy.  With enough left over to take myself and a friend to a Broadway show now and then.

And for that I am grateful.

After the show we went to a French bistro in the theater district which we inhabited for years.  To be honest, it was discovered by my ex, the lawyer, who took me there back in the very early 90's.  Before things fell apart.  It's a hole in the wall kind of place named "Chez Napoleon."  It's on West 50th, between Eighth & Ninth Avenues (north side, closer to Ninth).  You should check it out sometime.  There is a link to its website.  Click on it ... HERE.  I started with a little endive vinaigrette and then had the veau forestière .  It was wonderful.

And for that I am grateful.

After dinner I said au revoir to my companion of the day and struck out east to pick up an E train to Queens.  As I crossed Broadway, all hell started to break loose.  There were emergency vehicles coming out of everywhere, all heading to the heart of New York City, Times Square.  I did not stick around to find out what was going on.  I was trained by this city that when disaster even appears to have struck ... hit the road, Bub.  And so I did.  Eventually I got to my friends' place in Queens.  We visited happily for awhile and then retired for the evening.  They had been kind enough to offer me a place to stay for the evening.

And for that I am grateful.

Sunday morning I had an early appointment to speak at a 12-Step meeting on the lower east side of Manhattan.  I made it with time to spare.  I asked God to put the right words into my mouth, which He/She/It did.

And for that I am grateful.

The train ride home to New Jersey was noisy - there were tons of tourists aboard.  But, by 2:00 p.m., I was home, ensconced in the big, comfy, chair, with a cool drink in one hand and the Sunday New York Times in the other.

And for that I am grateful.

I spoke with some friends, had a very light dinner (salad) and retired to my over-air-conditioned bedroom at exactly 9:00 p.m.  By 9:30 it was lights out and I slept like a baby until the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m.

And yes, for that I am grateful.

If I remember, as I step through life, to keep my mind focused on the good things in my life, rather than letting the bad things weigh on me and pile up like so much undisposed of trash, then my life is complete and I am happy.

And for that I am grateful.