On Fire

I couldn't do it again in a year, and I can't remember the last time it happened but for five or ten minutes yesterday I was on fire.
Our 12step meeting, the Sunday morning 9 am thing that usually meets in the basement at Providence Hospital has been suspended for a couple weeks while we looked for a temporary situation while the hospital does some kind of hoo-ha in our auditorium, which is a nice place and cheap, too, cheaper than dirt, actually, and I can't get specific because this 12 step shit is anonymous, get me?
So we were all happy as mice to be in the SE VFW hall, another nice place, but old, proscenium arch, beautiful hardwood floors, high windows, kind of churchy really but pictures of battleships and sepia-tinted panorama photographs of Paschendale and the Argonne Forest and Fort Ludlow.
So we were in a good mood anyway.
I had been thinking about something that happened lately and how it very much illustrated a  particular facet of the program of recovery, really kind of a microcosm of the whole thing. And I have no illusion about what a scoundrel I really still am so all reflections of this sort are heavily ironic to the point of near cynicism.So when I got up in front of the room and I told the story I had enough presence of mind to tie it in specifically with the program to illustrate the way it can work and I managed to get a shit ton of irony into it and people cracked the fuck up.
Of course that set me off so I leaned on the irony and for about ten minutes there I was on fire.

After it was over it left my head completely blank so that when people said man you were funny you should do standup I laughed inside in that peculiar bitter way knowing I had virtually nothing to do with it. I kept thinking about it though, anyway, and I made some notes with the gist of what it was and how it was presented so I could maybe get there again, not as spontaneous   but still cover the same ground. I would like that.