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Preview of My Life Story

Preview of My Life Story

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Published by Tom McGoldrick
For more and to buy an e-book or a paper back book copy the following link and paste it into Google search http://lulu.com/tjmcgoldrick7
For more and to buy an e-book or a paper back book copy the following link and paste it into Google search http://lulu.com/tjmcgoldrick7

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Published by: Tom McGoldrick on Jan 23, 2007
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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12/21/2012

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Preview of My Life Story- by Tom M. A Recovering Alcoholic Author Tom McGoldrick ISBN 1-4208-4201-3Reflecting back on the question of when I really started drinking alcohol, I remembered aparticular incident that today seems wrong for a small boy, but which at the time seemed perfectlynormal. One hot August afternoon when I was seven, I really wanted a vanilla ice cream coveredwith orange sherbet. They sold for only five cents, but, I did not have a nickel. I only had threepennies. I knew my dad had empty beer bottles in the basement for which I could get a penny abottle refund at the store. I only needed two empty beer bottles to have enough money for the icecream. I went to the basement to get the two empty bottles. But, I could find none. I thought of emptying two full bottles into the toilet so that I would have two empty ones to take to the store.But, remembering my dad's lectures on not being wasteful and that confiscated liquor could bedestroyed by drinking it and urinating it down the drain instead of pouring it directly down thedrain as required by law, I promptly opened and drank the two bottles down. The beer was bitter.It was old beer, the shared spoils of an unredeemed official liquor raid. I had a slight buzz on andI liked that feeling. I went upstairs to the garage, jumped on my bicycle and rode to the corner grocery six blocks away with my three pennies and two empty bottles. I bought my ice cream andwent outside the store to eat it. The orange sherbet covering the vanilla ice cream did not tastelike orange. It tasted bitter from the bitter beer I had drunk. But, I enjoyed the ice cream anyway.I rode home feeling good. I had gotten my ice cream and still had a bit of a buzz from the twobeers. I did not even think I had done anything wrong. I was a little boy who wanted ice creamand had done what he had to do to get it. At that time, I did not drink beer regularly but it wasthere if I had wanted it.By the time I was ten years old, I was told to became an alter boy and did so. I liked thefifty-cent tips for serving weddings or funerals but I liked the free church wine even better. Thepriests told us to not pour the wine from the cruet back into the wine bottle in the vestibule of thechurch. They told us to just pour it down the drain. But, I knew that I could drink it and piss itdown the drain later. Thereafter, I and a few other alter boys used the largest of cruets everychance we could get. We quickly learned which priests had upset stomachs and could onlyhandle a couple of drops of wine in the chalice and when we put our names on the schedule toserve masses, we tried to maximize serving those priests. A few times after consuming the wine,we rang the church bell with the pull rope and letting the swinging bell pull us up off of the floor.But, we got in trouble when we rang the bell the wrong number of times. We learned to becareful because we did not want to be cut off from the free wine.The catholic parish I belonged to built a new school across town and tore the old one downwhich had been across the street from the church. Since the students in the new school could nolonger attend mass in the church everyday, the pastor decided to have morning mass in theschool gymnasium before school each day. A portable alter on wheels was built and kept in thecorner of the school gymnasium. One of the stage dressing rooms was used as a vestibule for the priests’ clothes and other religious articles. They had a hard time getting any other alter boysto volunteer to serve at the school. That was fine with me. I saw the opportunity to get a regular shot of wine each morning without having to ride my bike across town to the church and thenback to the school and took on the serving of daily mass as a regular job. Because I did such agood job at that, they also assigned me the task of collecting and consolidating the milk order from all of the classrooms for the milkman. The additional job entitled me to any leftovers in thekitchen refrigerator and skipping Morning Prayer and the salute to the flag in the classroom.Some Monday mornings after card playing events of adult church members on Saturdays andSundays in the school gymnasium, the refrigerator had nice leftovers to eat. When I graduatedfrom the eighth grade, the nuns gave me an engraved alarm clock in recognition of the valuedservice I had given. The clock was nice but I had been satisfied with the wine and leftovers in therefrigerator. The wine did get awfully warm by Friday mornings not being in a refrigerator, but my

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