One more example of "AA Folklore" (i.e. the things that aren't in the Big Book - or blatantly contradict the Big Book - that I hear folks in meetings tell newcomers)  is this one - "You have to give up your old playmates and playgrounds".

Once again - this is something that sounds like good advice. And it would make plenty of sense, if Alcoholics Anonymous were a support group, or if we were group therapy. But we're not. Alcoholics Anonymous is a Fellowship of the Spirit, and what we have to offer is miracles, not gimmicks or motivational tricks.

This is one more time where the folks giving the advice have either

a) not read the Big Book, or
b) have interpreted the words differently, or
c) have simply chosen to disregard what it says.

I like choice b),  "interpreted it differently", because that would mean that we all agree that the solution is in the Big Book, and that we're simply reading it from different perspectives, but in discussion with these folks (to the extent that they will discuss it) I find that it's usually a) or c).

(I have to admit here that it often seems that it is, indeed, usually the case of b) AND c) - they have, indeed, read the Big Book, but never noticed the passages dealing with these subjects,  because the passages didn't agree with what they had heard from their group/therapist/treatment center/sponsor, and so when you point the passages out to the folks in question, they get mad and say that they don't care what those words are; it comes out something like "Yeah, I know that that's what it says, but that's just stupid. Anybody knows that newcomers need to keep away from their old playmates and playgrounds" and they walk away mad).

There is a passage in the book that come to mind - one dealing directly with this issue of playmates and playgrounds. (I'm operating under the assumption here that "playmates" means friends with whom one used to drink, and that "playgrounds" is referring to places where drinking takes place - specifically those places where one might have spent time).

With regards to "playmates" - the Big Book never says that we should ignore our drinking friends. In fact, the book says, specifically, this:
 
Now, it may just be the way that I'm reading this, but to my way of thinking, telling our friends that they are not to change their habits on our account, AND not withdrawing from my friends, sort of flies in the face of the advice to "keep away from my old playmates".

This is on the same page (101) as the "playgrounds" advice, which has to do with a lot more than just "playgrounds" -

"Assuming we are spiritually fit, we can do all sorts of things alcoholics are not supposed to do. People have said we must not go where liquor is served; we must not have it in our homes; we must shun friends who drink; we must avoid moving pictures which show drinking scenes; we must not go into bars; our friends must hide their bottles if we go to their houses; we mustn't think or be reminded about alcohol at all.

"We meet these conditions every day. An alcoholic who cannot meet them, still has an alcoholic mind; there is something the matter with his spiritual status. His only chance for sobriety would be some place like the Greenland Ice Cap, and even there an Eskimo might turn up with a bottle of scotch and ruin everything! Ask any woman who has sent her husband to distant places on the theory he would escape the alcohol problem.

To my way of thinking, this definitely references the idea of "keeping away from old playgrounds" - and the Big Book sets up that straw man just to tear it down - it's telling us that it simply will not work. And the book references what the real trouble is - "there is something the matter with his spiritual status".

That's sort of interesting, to me - the Big Book reminds us, over and over again, that what we are implementing here is a spiritual solution to a physical and mental problem. Attempting to keep away from booze is a mental gimmick with a physical implementation, and it's not going to work.

The Big Book gets just plain nasty about the whole thing - much nastier than I could ever get :)

"In our belief any scheme of combating alcoholism which proposes to shield the sick man from temptation is doomed to failure. If the alcoholic tries to shield himself he may succeed for a time, but usually winds up with a bigger explosion than ever. We have tried these methods. These attempts to do the impossible have always failed."

It says "ANY scheme". It says "DOOMED to failure". It says that we've tried them, and they are "attempts to do the impossible."

We've been given something so far beyond white-knuckle sobriety that I find myself disliking the "keep away from playmates and playgrounds" advice not just because it doesn't work, but because (to my mind) it cheapens what we really have, and what we have to offer.

Speaking of "setting up a straw man", I'll do that now - those who are proponents of the "keep away from temptation" plan are always quick to point out that this passage comes from Chapter Seven, which is all about Step Twelve - they point out that this advice is for the newcomer, who's not on Step Twelve yet.

I have only one question - why? Why are we giving the newcomer advice about what to do while he's waiting around and deciding whether or not to work the Steps - or, perhaps even worse, why are we giving him advice that allows him to think that the doesn't have to work the Steps?

Why are we telling people to do what the Big Book says will always be impossible to do (i.e. schemes of combating alcoholism which propose shielding the sick man from temptation) instead of telling them to do what the Big Book
tells them to do - i.e., work the steenkin' Steps? How long are we supposed to tell the newcomer to do ANYTHING else except work the Steps?

Why do we soft-pedal the Steps - which work, and work immediately, and always work - in favor of giving advice that forces the newcomer to lean on his own power and resources?

I think that it's because that we - the corporate "we" here - don't really believe Steps One and Two.

We really think that the newcomer is supposed to figure out a better way to keep away from alcohol; that God won't really solve the alcohol problem; that what we get from AA is a better life, so that the temptation to drink is reduced, rather than a spiritual awakening, which removes the very issue of drinking.

The Big Book says that this program will work, when it is grasped with all the desperation with which a drowning man grabs a life preserver; we soft-pedal the Steps because maybe the newcomer isn't hungry enough; not hurting enough; not desperate enough to go ahead and work them right now.

Our book - the same book that tells us that attempts to avoid temptation are doomed to failure - says that, if the newcomer isn't ready to do whatever it takes, then we're supposed to leave him alone.

So I think what's really going on is that we've given up miracles for marketing, and we're trading devices for desperation. Instead of requiring of a newcomer the only thing that he really has to give - his awareness of his own dire need - we tell them that it's hanging around their playmates and playgrounds that's the problem. We tell them that their problem is their circumstances.

Heck - they've believed that all along.

But the truth is that we've got something better.

This AA oldtimer walks into a meeting room early, and sees a newcomer sitting at the table. The oldtimer says "Hey, how are you doing?"

The newcomer says "Oh, I'm doing okay, under the circumstances."

The oldtimer says "What are you doing under there?"