I’m Southern, and my momma taught me “Pretty is as pretty does.”

Growing up, whether I was gussied up in my girly-girl Sunday-best ruffled dress and patent leather shoes, or were wearin’ cut off jeans and a halter top making mud pies down at the crick, I was expected to act like a little lady.

To this day, I say “sir” and “ma’am.”

And now that I am grown, my new front name is “Miss,” and those younger publicly address me as “Miss Roxanna.”

It’s not that I was raised highfalutin.

I wasn’t.

I am from humble, simple people who never had much to start with, and what they do have, they work long and hard to keep.

Among my kinfolk, one of the most important things to have is a good name.

I was taught if you want respect, act respectable.

It did not take much liquor or dope for me to act unladylike and unrespectable.

A month before I got clean and sober, I received this letter in the mail photocopied on plain white paper inside a plain white envelope with my address printed on the front. There was no return address, and the postmark was Las Vegas, Nevada, where I lived at the time.

Dear Miss Roxanna:

Perhaps you have heard of my nationwide temperance campaign. Each year for the past decade, I have made a tour of Texas, Florida, and southern Georgia, up through Indiana, Iowa and Illinois - delivering sermons on the evils of drinking. I have been accompanied on this tour by my young friend and assistant, Loretta Lindstrom.

Loretta, a woman of good family and excellent background, is a pathetic example of a life ruined by excessive indulgence in whiskey and wild men.

Loretta has always appeared with me at my lectures - sitting on the platform wheezing and staring at the audience through bleary, bloodshot eyes, sweating profusely, picking her nose, wetting her pants, passing gas and making obscene gestures while I pointed her out as an example of what overindulgence can do to a person.

Last fall, Loretta died. A mutual friend has given me your name and I wonder if you would be available to take her place on this year’s spring tour.

Yours in faith,

The Venerable Reverend Elton Jones

I was so pissed when I read that, I didn’t know whether to have a hissy fit or a conniption fit!

I asked several people if they sent it to me, and no had the moxie to fess up.

Later, I found a version online as an excerpt from Cow Pies - A Messy Journey Through the Pasture of Life by Gene McDougall and Nelson Campbell.

Rule 62: “Don’t take yourself too damn seriously.”
~ Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 148

I laugh about it today, but I’d still like to know who sent it.

I want to thank them.

Recovery Rocks!

Roxie

You are invited to sign the Recovery Wall

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