Good evening. I'm John. I'm an alcoholic. I'm just going to take this time to open this up. I want to thank Oscar for having me come in and speak tonight. You know, I have to say, you people are lovely people. I mean, you really are. Thank you. Thank you.
And I want to say thank you to Lacey and Jerry for the opening speakers. I identified. I identified. I identified with. I'm a guy that was pretty much termed what I would call a high bottom. You know, everything on the outside looked awesome.
I got sober October 29th, 1988. And I got sober at the AT Center in Silver Lake.
And it was what they used to call back then gay AA, which there's no such thing. It's gay participation.
And but it was for for people like me, it was a safe place to go because I, I, I, I was a mess.
And and and a lot of a lot of the messiness was, you know, based on my sexual orientation and just not knowing who the hell I was or how I was navigating through life.
So I got sober on October 29th.
Which was around Halloween.
And in the gay community, that's like a national holiday.
And and I was, you know, alcohol is my alcohol was my drug of choice.
Alcohol was what I drank. But crystal meth put me over on the finish line.
And and so I was I wasn't aware of the time of year or whatever.
You know, I mean, I kind of knew, but I just I was at this meeting and, you know, everybody it seemed like everybody was dressed up as Liza Minnelli.
Carol Channing, Joan Crawford with coat hangers.
And I was I was just shaking crystal meth and alcohol out of my spinal fluid.
And it just none of it made sense to me.
I just didn't know where I was.
Didn't know what I was doing.
I grew up in Massachusetts, youngest of five kids and, you know, a gay child, confused.
And and, you know, when when Joe was talking, I was thinking, you know, about that, that restlessness.
That always plagued me.
One of the big things, you know, the 60s was, you know, train sets and slot cars and all that.
And they have this thing called a transformer.
You know, you plug it in and then you have the gun and you, you know, but the transformer always vibrated.
There was a hum coming from it.
And that was me. I was always vibrating.
There was a hum at the core in my head just like this all my growing up.
Never knew what to do with myself.
I was.
So we were seven in the house, three bedrooms, one bathroom.
And I just needed to leave.
I needed to leave at a young age.
And I television in, you know, at that time, like Lost in Space was a big television show during the 60s.
And that I just wanted to be Will Robinson.
And I just wanted to leave the planet.
I just wanted to leave Mary Poppins.
I would one particular summer.
I was jumping off the back bumper of my father's car.
With my sister's Mary Poppins umbrella.
Hoping that at some point I was going to go.
That it was going to happen.
That I was leaving.
I never wanted to be where I was.
Ever.
And fantasy, fantasy became my drug of choice.
It wasn't until I think my father drank.
My father was, he was, in my opinion, he was an alcoholic.
And caused a lot of unrest in the family.
As a result of it.
Unconditional love for his kids.
All of that.
I had a good home.
I was educated.
You know, other than that, that was kind of how I was brought up.
With this restless, irritable, and discontented feeling that I had all my life.
But I didn't want to drink like him.
I never liked it.
I didn't.
So, I didn't start drinking until I got into college.
So, I grew up in Massachusetts.
I needed to leave town.
I mean, I needed to leave.
Because I could not be a gay young man in Massachusetts.
The youngest of five kids.
Because I was dying.
I was, I was dying inside.
So, by some miracle, I got into UCLA.
And I, and I had never been on a plane before.
Never.
And I don't know how we pulled it off.
But I said, see ya.
And I came out to California.
And I was coming out to California because I was going to, well, here's, here's how I
made this decision.
It was a very adult and well thought out decision.
I used to watch the Carol Burnett show.
And Carol Burnett went to UCLA.
And I figured, you know, I'm going to do this.
I'm going to do this.
I'm going to go out there and I'll do this.
I'm going to do this.
I'm going to do that.
And I figured, she went to UCLA TV show.
I'm in.
So, that's how I picked UCLA.
It was very mature on my part.
And I got in!
And, and, I had to find out about me and who I was.
And then I started getting with the guys and gals that started drinking.
And I would drink on campus.
And I would then start to, and I would have the adults.
And that was the part that got me into it.
And I used to, and I used to watch the episode.
It was very mature on my part. And I got in. And I had to find out about me and who I was. And then I started getting with the guys and gals that started drinking. And I would drink on campus. And it was just the noise and the angst. Everything just sort of came down, you know. And I just started a downshift into myself. I just started to feel like me. And I had never, I never knew what that was before.
I mean, I had tried alcohol in high school and all that stuff. But I was the guy that was always driving everybody home. I was a good guy. I was a nice guy, dying inside. But I was a nice guy. And so then I started drinking at school. And I'll mention this. So I went to the theater department, because I was going to be a big star, big, big star. And we got into shows. And then I went over to the music department. And they had, you know, they had this contest called, it was the Frank Sinatra Awards. And then there was the Carol Burnett Awards.
And I tried out for the Frank Sinatra Awards. And I made it to third. And then I did the Carol Burnett Awards. And I won. I won the Carol Burnett Awards. And Carol and a whole bunch of people, they gave me money and the accolades and the whole thing. And it was the most amazing experience that I had ever had.
And as soon as it happened, I had to trash it. I had to tear it down. I had to negate it. It was a fluke. It was a mistake. You're all going to find out about who I am and what I am. And I started drinking more and more. I could not contain any type of success. I just couldn't. Because I was, I was a black hole. I was a black hole that the whole world needed to surround, to revolve around.
But it was so dark. And I couldn't let you get too close to me, because you were going to find out. You were going to find out.
Then, you know, at that time, I mean, it was a pretty tough time, because AIDS was coming into the height of when I was getting sober. And they called it back then, they called it the gay cancer, the gay plague or whatever. But I was walking across the UCLA campus, and they had the Daily Bruin. And I would read all the stuff about this. And I'm reading this going, I'm going to die. This is how this is going to be. I'm going to die.
That's what God does.
That's what God did. God created me. He made me gay. He made me the youngest of five athletes. And I'm musical comedy, you know, sex, drugs and musical comedy. That was me. And, and I just knew that it was all going to end there. It was just all going to end there. And so what I did is I drank more, and more sex, because that fixed it all. That made sense. More alcohol, more sex. Yeah, I'm in. And that's what I did. That's what I did.
And I got on that spree.
And spree and remorse and spree and remorse. And it got to the point where I didn't know what the problem was. But I was coming in for a crash. I was coming in for a really bad crash. And I graduated from college, and I was doing a showdown and saddleback. And this is one of the things I always regretted, because I had to tear things down. And I couldn't accept any type of achievement. I never went to my college graduation. You know, I was doing a showdown on Saddle Rock. I just, and family's not there. They're three miles away. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm
going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I'm not going to go. I've never thought about it. I never thought about it. And I had, I guess I had like a some type of a breakdown. I just crashed. And I ended up in a broken workshop. I ended up in a broken workshop. And I just sort of trashed all that stuff and then did the show. And while we were doing it was the cast parties and the drinking and the sex and the whole thing. It was just, and it got to the point where I got out of college. And I was looking and all of a sudden, I'm like, where am I going? I mean, what truly, what am I going to do? What, what's happening here? I mean, what's my next move? I never thought about it. Like I never thought about it.
up going back home and I lost like, I don't know how much weight. I was, I was thin as a rail when
I got home. And, and, and, and all the time there was that mantra, you're going to die. You're going
to die. You're going to die. God's going to get you. This is, you're going to die. This is his,
his retribution, you know, all this stuff. This is, and so I had to drink more. I had to quiet
all that down. I had to drink more. Um, I started to substitute teach and my parents weren't quite
sure what was going on, but the, and at this point, nobody knew that I was gay. Nobody knew
any of that stuff. I mean, it was a really good secret and nobody knew about my drinking. Cause
as much as I hid my being gay, I also hid my drinking and my alcohol. I hid it really well.
So, uh, I started to go therapy in what was called Mass Bay therapy in Boston. So I was working at,
I was a bartender at Bennigan's restaurant in Framingham. And then I'd bartend there. And then
on Monday nights, I take the car into Boston.
Go to therapy. And then when therapy was over, I'd go to the gay bars. And so when they asked me
how therapy was doing, I said, therapy's great. You know, it's working just fine, you know? Cause
I would, and then I drive home and you know, in New England and snow storms, they were more often
than not, I never remembered how I get the car home. I never remember. And the only thing I
remember my mom going, what the hell happened to the inside of the car? I was driving, all the
windows were down, snow was coming in and they were salting.
The streets, the it's all the salt was coming in. I had no recollection whatsoever. Um, I drank,
I drank and I used, and, um, I finally got my stuff together enough that I went back to
Los Angeles, sold my car, packed up everything. And then I moved to New York with the rest of a
whole bunch of us from the theater department. We're all moving to New York. And I'm like,
okay, that sounds like a great idea for me. And Manhattan in the eighties, that's where I
perfected my drinking. I was like, I'm going to New York. I'm going to New York. I'm going to New
York, New York. I'm going to New York and my culture was living out the intoxication.
There's no working skills. That's where I did it. And talk about sex, drugs and musical comedy. It
was on and being at a bar. Well, so let me kind of backtrack when I lived here in LA, I worked at
the Beverly Hills hotel and I met my friend, Doug. I was, uh, I was a bellman. He worked at the
front desk and there was a bunch of us. And Thursday night, Thursday night, we would go to the rose
tattoo in West Hollywood. And that's when we did it up.
Saturday, that's what we did. And it just turned out that when I decided to move back, go to New
York, Doug went to New York too, too as well. But he went like a month ahead of me. So he lands in
Manhattan before I get there. I get into Manhattan and I'm like, okay, it's all, we're not screwing
around here. This is serious business. You know, this is serious. You're on your career path,
no drinking, no drugging, no doing anything. You're, you're, this is it. Okay. I didn't even
call Doug for like, I didn't want to talk to him. And he always called me Chuck because I was
Charlie Brown. He was Pittman Patty. So he always called me Chuck. So he says, Chuck, well, we're
going to go out. You know, I'm like, ah, all right. All right. All right. All right. All right. So we
went up to the Upper West Side. It was called The Works was the name of the bar. Nice name, The Works.
And, um, and we drank, you know, we just started drinking about 10 minutes to two. I decided
cause they were gonna, you know, in LA two o'clock bars closed down. I mean, you know, so I went and
got two more drinks for him and for me. It's, you know, and I walked back, he goes, Chuck, what are
you doing? I said, well, it's, they're going to close the bar. He goes, no, no, no, no. It's
Manhattan. The bar is closed at four. And I stood there with these two drinks and I went, I'm totally
screwed. I'm screwed. Cause this is, this just can't be. And that was my deal. I would, I was
working in, uh, at the Ritz Carlton on Central Park South. I worked the three o'clock shift.
And what I did,
is I worked three to 1130, hit the bars, got home at, left the bars at four o'clock. You know,
it always got later, stayed in bed, got up, went and to make it back to work by three in the
afternoon. And that's what I did. That's what I did. I lived my life in fantasy. When I was in a
bar, I was home. When I was in a bar, I was on point. When I was in a bar, I even knew what was
you. And I told you what was wrong with you. And it was, and it didn't matter what I loved about
bars. What I love, particularly in Manhattan is it could be zero degrees out. And what we would do
to trudge in the winter storms or whatever, to get to the bar because the bar was the oasis in my
life. The bar was the center of all things community for me. And you walked in and it
didn't matter what time a day it was. It was always the same time. It was always the same time. It was
dark. It was neon. There was the smell of beer and alcohol coming up from the rubber mats behind the
bar. I love everything about it. And then it was always the pursuit of who can I take hostage? Who
can I go? You know, where, who can I find to carry the weight of this mess? That was me because I
couldn't do it. I couldn't do it. I'll kind of fast forward a little bit, but New York got to
there was a movie called Escape from New York. And I thought that was actually my life. And that
was where I needed to go because it was, it was, it was, it was bad. And, uh, I ended up, I was
working at this other hotel. They were going to promote me to back of the house executive steward
in the hotel business. That's a really big deal, particularly for a guy at my age. And I was in my
mid twenties, you know? And I remember the manager saying, okay, we're going to, we're going to,
we're going to, we're going to, we're going to, we're going to, we're going to, we're going to,
we're going to give you this position. And I think you're going to do really well in it,
but I want you to kind of meet like with the exterminator and all these other vendors that
are coming and they they'll show you how this, how, you know, just to stay on top of all this.
So I went with this exterminator down into the sub basement. It was the old Taft hotel on 57th
and Broadway. And he would take out his, you know, insecticide and he would start spraying this and
he would make army noises as he's killing cockroaches. Like he's going to die. You suckers
die, you know? And he was like into it. And I stood there horrified thinking this guy really
loves what he's doing. He really, I am too much of a queen for this shit. So I can't, I can not
hang out. I can't hang out doing this. And I quit. I quit. I'm, I'm done because I'm going to be a
star. I'm going to be a star. This is beneath me, right? Great opportunity. Just sort of threw that
away. And as luck would have it, there was a friend of mine that worked,
for this marketing agency and they were looking for talent and there was a marketing blitz that
they were going to do. And they were looking for singers. And this girl called me up and she said,
can you make it down, you know, downtown at such and such place in like the next 20 minutes,
they need a tenor. You're the tenor go there. I'm like, okay, I'm in. I grabbed my music. I get,
you know, I get onto a bus. And as I'm going there, I'm like, it's finally coming together.
It's finally come. I'm going to be able to have a building,
doorman. I can shop at Barney's. I can, you know, go to Zay bars every day. I can, you know,
this is it. I'm, I finally made it. I get there. I walk in, I put my music down. There's no piano.
I mean the piano, but there's no pianist. And I said, well, I got my music that we, we, we don't
want you to sing. Um, how tall are you? I'm a five, eight. How much you weigh? 140 pounds. Okay.
Hang on one second. Waiting around. Don't know what's happening. A guy,
walks in with a box and a big bear head. And they wanted me to dress up as Paddington bear.
That was the gig. I dressed up as Paddington bear. And I went in a town car all through
Midtown Manhattan, handing out leaflets. It was I'm Paddington bear from darkest Peru with a
fabulous fun fit press kit for you. It's been 30 years since I arrived by boat and my yellow hat
and my blue duffel coat. And I would say this at 30 different publications,
and I like started to get into it. And like, you know, I'm like, okay, I'm Paddington. And I go
through these turnstiles. And then one kid called me and said, well, mom, look at Yogi. I'm like,
I'm not Yogi. I'm Paddington. I am Paddington. And I went to Rockefeller center and I walk in
and I sit and I had to go up to Redbook. It was a magazine. I said, uh, hi, I'm here. You know,
I got the head on. Hi, I'm here. Uh, uh, going up to see you. So-and-so and so-and-so he says,
um, uh, okay. Uh, I need to give you a pass. I'm like, oh, okay. Um, what's your name? I said,
Paddington. He says, what's your last name? I said, bear. Didn't bat an eye. Paddington bear
put on like a third elevator bank to the left. And you know, I went up and I go upstairs and
I'm stressed and it's like 102 degrees and humidity and the whole thing. And I go,
and I finally go up to this desk and this woman says, oh, I don't know. We don't really like
people.
And like this, can you just leave it here? And I'm like, do you see how I'm dressed? You think
I'm going to leave this here? I go in, I do my spiel and I will not go to the colorful metaphors
that this person that I was doing it for, but he screamed at me and said, what the flush do you
think you're doing to you? And he like screamed so much so that I just walked out of there. I was
shaken. And then I get, got into the town car. I said, drop me off here. And I went to this bar
and I am in my bear suit.
And I just took the head off and I just sat down at the bar with the head. And I'm like,
give me a drink. Let's bring them on. Because what there was this guy, because one of the other
things I used to do in Manhattan while drinking and using is I did comedy clubs and I, I did
lights and sound for comedian. And so I did our lights and sound catch a rising star was the name
of this place. And there was this guy who was, he was the manager catch a rising star. And I just
kept seeing him through New York. And he, you know, he was the manager of catch a rising star. And I
was in the softball league at one point for the hotels. I was horrible. And, and he would play
softball. And I just kept running. And I'm like, now there's a guy, that guy's got it going on.
He's got it going on. And one day I saw him standing on roller skates with a gladiator outfit
on handing out leaflets for podiatrists in Times Square. And I went, dude, that's one step away
from a bear suit. So I'm out. I'm out. So I ran.
I ran out of Manhattan. I ran out. I told everybody I'm leaving. I'm going. I ran out. I came call my
friends in LA and I said, come back, come back. And I landed in July of 1988. And the anger that
I brought with me, the disappointment, that dark, heavy hole that I carried with me got so much so
that I just started going back to my own haunt. And I was pounding the alcohol, doing the sex,
just killing myself.
Anger through anger. It was all anger, anger at the world, anger at me, anger at God. And I remember
one, I went, the rose tattoo was having open mic nights. I went out, I went to sing and I put my
music down and some guy at the bar said, you know what? Hurry up. And you better be good. Cause we
got the bars closing. And I was like, I got so angry. I left there. And that's when I started
doing crystal. And that's when I started losing my car. And that's when it started to get darker
than I ever, ever thought.
It's not possible that it could get dark. And one particular night, two or three o'clock in the
morning on Santa Monica Boulevard, this voice came into my head and said, your mother didn't raise
you to be standing on a street corner looking for drugs, alcohol, and sex. That's not why you were
born. And I don't know what I heard that. I wasn't like Joan of Arc and shit, you know, just hearing
voices. I just, that I heard. And at the time I was going to this ACA therapist because I was
always looking to what was the problem? What was my problem? And I was like, I don't know. I don't
have a problem. I always want to know what my problem was. You know, at one point I was reading
Shirley MacLaine's out on a limb and I'm like, that's it. It's past life stuff. That's the
problem. I, yeah, that's it. You know, this therapist I was seeing who was sober five years
at the time, I didn't know it. And I said, is that my problem? Am I the adult child of an
alcoholic? Is that what the thing is? And she said, why don't you go check out a meeting,
go to a gay meeting and maybe you can identify with your father. I went, okay, that sounds,
like it makes sense to me. So I went to the AT center, Monday night meeting, Silver Lake. I don't
know how I got myself there. And I walked down and the color of the room was a dark yellow,
rich yellow and thick, thick smoke. And I walked down and I looked at the people sitting there and
I thought, you know, if, if Charles Dickens were alive today, these would be the people he would
write about. Cause this was, I just, you know, and of course, you know, I came in sick, you know,
but the ego, right? The judgment always there.
I sat down and I couldn't leave. And the reason why I couldn't leave is I was so sick. I needed
to be near a bathroom. I mean, I just needed to be near a bathroom. I was, I was just hurting.
And I stayed for the whole meeting. And then at one point, this guy got up and he said,
um, I I'm dealing with two diseases. I'm dealing with alcoholism and I'm dealing with AIDS. And I
broke out in a panic and a sweat. And I just grabbed onto my chair and I, and I sat there
and I just listened. And when the meeting was over, I, I ran out of there. And I was like,
I got into my car and I just started to cry from a place that I hadn't cried from in years. And I'm
banging the steering wheel going, what is the problem? Screaming. And I just saw, and I left.
And then I went home. And then that Wednesday night I went to the Los Feliz and that's where
everybody was dressed up as, you know, Joan Crawford and all those people. And, and I,
and I sat there and I just, my, my,
the difference into Alcoholics Anonymous just started one tiny step at a time. And I knew
nothing about what you were all about. I knew nothing about alcoholism, nothing. But you kept
saying to me, just keep coming back. I was lost. No direction, none. I remember when I lived in
Manhattan and I was doing, I don't know how many different jobs I had. And I'm standing on
Lexington Avenue during lunchtime. And I just looked in all the throngs,
the people were just going whizzing back and forth. And I just wanted to scream,
where are you all going? How do you know where you're going? Cause I never knew where I was
going. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't know how to get there. And I was stumped.
And one more time, here I am completely be in this meeting. And I don't know what happened,
but by the grace of God, by the grace of God, I kept coming back. Cause you kept saying,
keep coming back. And I did. And I did. And, and, and, and I would stand up at the podium
and I would slam my fist and I would one more time was telling you what you were, what was wrong
with you, you people. And, and, and I was just, I was stymied. I couldn't even look at the steps
on the wall. Cause I was just like, I couldn't even comprehend that. All I could do was just
to keep coming back. And you know, those Queens at the AT center, man, they hugged and loved me.
They, they kept saying, oh honey, keep coming back. You know, just turn it over, turn it over,
which I had no idea what the hell that meant. None. I didn't know what that meant.
At all. And, and then about two years later, I'm sitting there and somebody shared something.
I don't know what I, cause I'm, you know, two years into it. I'm like, okay, I'm sober. I've
got, you know, going, picking up newcomers and, you know, taking them to recovery houses,
you know, secretary and doing all that kind of stuff. But again, I'm at this point of what's
next, what's next. And this kid got up and shared at the podium that his therapist,
his therapist was sleeping with his lover and the therapist was helping him through that.
And I went and I sat there like this going, I'm going to freaking die here. I'm going to die
this. I got to get out. I got to get out. And one of the places I went to was the Pacific group.
I went to the Pacific group. Cause I, I started, someone said there's 3000 meetings in Los Angeles
on a daily basis. Pick one. And I ended up, I went to, there was a bunch of guys that
took me to the Pacific group. I went to the Pacific group. I went to the Pacific group. I went to the
Pacific group. I went to the Pacific group. I went to the Pacific group. I went to the Pacific group.
They took me over to, um, what was the, the, uh, synagogue on sunset, that big meeting when I
walked through and I was like blown away. And here's what I was blown away. And much like
tonight, everybody put their hand out to me. Everybody shook my hand and everybody was dressed
so nicely. And I just sort of kind of eased in. And there was a guy that was clearly off the streets
and he was shaking and somebody had put a sport jacket on and it was in the bathroom and he's
combing his hair. And I was like, I'm going to get out of here. I'm going to get out of here. I'm
going to get out of here. And his hands are shaking and he's got that ruddy complexion. But
what happened to him in that trance, that one moment, I just went, I am so lucky to be an
Alcoholics Anonymous. I am so great just to see that moment, you know, and from that point on,
I became a seeker. And then at five years of sobriety, one more time, where are you going?
What are you doing? My, the veins on my head were pumping like a garden hose. I didn't know what I
was doing. Um, and, and what was going on is I wasn't doing the same thing. I was doing the same
steps. I mean, I was being of service. I was picking people up. I was doing all that stuff.
And Scott Redman was speaking at a meeting on a Sunday afternoon. And you all told me that at
some point I was going to hear somebody in Alcoholics Anonymous where everybody would go
away and it was just going to be this. And that's what happened with Scott. And, and I went up to
after the meeting and I talked to him and he was my sponsor for 15 years. And that man saved my life
because I was ready to listen. And he said, why don't you come over and I'll show you how I do this
deal. I'll show you how to do this. And I said, okay. And I wasn't really big on God. And I wasn't,
you know, I, and I walk in and Scott says, come on over here. We're going to hold hands. We're
going to kneel down and we're going to say the third step prayer. And I'm like, bells are going
off my hand. No, no, you know, like this is not what I meant. This wasn't, I did, this was not
mine. And we prayed together and he showed me how to do an inventory process. And, and finally
things started to click in into my sobriety. I started doing the work. I started doing the
morning prayers and meditation. And, and when I say I started doing prayer and meditation,
I started doing it. It took another nine years for me to really start developing my prayer and
meditation in, in, in, in my sobriety. Uh, you know, that we agnostics,
where it says, um, lack of power. That was our dilemma. We had to find a power greater than
ourselves, obviously, but where and how were we to do this? And then it said there, and I had read
it a thousand times. Well, that's exactly what this book is about. Its main object is to help
you find a power greater than yourself that can solve all your problems. That means we've written
a book that we believe to be spiritual. And I had never heard that before. I had never read that
before. And look, I had never read that before. And look, I had never read that before. And look,
little by little, that just started my, a new spin on the ball in my AA program. Um, Scott was, uh,
Scott was a gift, uh, that, that to this day, uh, I was just, I am so blessed to have had that.
And, um, he was the kind of a guy that when I'd call him, he never told me what to do. He never
told me, he never admonished me. It was just a hug coming over the phone. Oh, honey, that sounds
hard. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
That sounds really hard. Let's see if we can get God involved. Let's see about getting God involved.
And that was our relationship for 15 years. And that's what, that's what started to put me back
on a road towards my dreams, because he always told me that Alcoholics Anonymous is where fantasy
ends and your dreams can begin. And, and, but you got to scrub your dreams a bit. And that's what I
did. And I scrubbed my dreams through the steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. I scrubbed my dreams
through my inventory process.
Um, one of the prayers that, that helped me during, you know, when, when, when the stuff
would hit the fan man and it happened all the time, you know, just trying to learn how to live
life on life's terms. And I was still a guy that was clueless. I was still a guy that was just sort
of bumping into my way through this process. I would, I would stand there and say what was called
the second step prayer. You know, if something would happen and it would be like, I didn't know
how to handle it and I couldn't react. I would say, I would say, I would say, I would say, I would
do a little bit of prayer.
I would say, I would take a breath and I would take a breath and I would say more of that.
And I would say there's something that I want to ask you this morning for, before you go home.
I want you to do this for a second. You know, I want you to do something that I want you to do
for a second step that you want to draw back the ones because I am a recovering Catholic and I
say, I know how to do prayer. So I started a memorized prayer. And the second step prayer,
what somebody taught me was dear heavenly father, I'm standing at the turning point. I ask for your
care and protection.
I ask for your care and protection as I abandoned myself to you right now, right at this moment
I've come down to here where I could work a third step, where I could turn my will and my life over to the care of God.
But up until that point, when it's like this, I don't know what to do, but I did know how,
oh, I know what this is, I'm standing at the turnip and I ask for your care and protection as I abandon myself to you.
Giving up my old ways and my old ideas just for today.
Life on life's terms. I don't know how life is going to go.
All I know is how I react to life.
What is it that I do in my job? What is it that I do in my relationship?
What is it that I do with my family? How do I react to you?
With some heinous stuff, with some funny stuff, with whatever life brings.
One of the things that happened in my sobriety that happens to everybody is I lost my dad.
My parents are all gone now, but dad was the first one.
He had been sick for a while and I was flying home a lot.
And he passed away and I only got to talk to him on the phone.
I could hear him breathing and they called.
And they said, just tell him you love him.
And then I had to go back home, you know.
And one of the things my father wanted for me to do was to sing Danny Boy at his funeral.
He wanted me to sing Danny Boy.
So I get a phone call from one of my older brothers that says, we got a little problem.
The priest isn't going to let you sing Danny Boy in mass.
And I'm like, what do you mean?
He goes, he's not going to let you sing.
Yeah, but it's what dad wanted.
Dad wanted me to do that.
Yeah, yeah, I know.
He doesn't want it.
The priest doesn't want it.
It turned into an Irish happy hour.
I'm like, yeah, but we're Italian.
He goes, you're not going to be able to sing.
Every bit of anger and rage that I had ever had at the Catholic Church came up.
Like, who the hell does he?
Oh, no.
No, no, no, no.
We're going to, this is going to become something, right?
So this is, and I'm packing to get on a plane, right?
I can't get a hold of my sponsor, my sobriety brother, Danny.
He's available.
I called Danny and go, all right, it's on now.
It is on now.
This shit just came up and it's getting really real.
And I'm telling you, this is, he goes, okay, okay.
Why don't you write, write it down?
Write down the resentment.
Call me back.
So I wrote down the resentment.
I am, I, I am resentful at the Catholic Church.
I am resentful at Father O'Brien because they did this, this, this, this, this.
It affects my self-esteem, my ambition, pocketbook and sex.
And these are the defects of character.
I mean, I just went through this whole thing and it is, it's a cannon in my chest.
Just blowing on the paper, blowing on the paper.
And I called Danny up and I'm like, well, do you know what?
This is, they got to stop.
We got to stop the Catholic Church because this is just going on too long.
So he says, read me the, read it to me.
So I read it to him.
He said, okay, now do your six and seven.
So I went and I did my six and seven and I called him back and he said, uh, okay.
So here's what I want to ask you.
What I want to ask you is, is there any way that you can get on the same page as the priest?
That you can be a son to your dad, a son to your mother, a brother to your siblings, an uncle to your nieces.
A nephew.
Can you be that guy on the funeral on Thursday and then change Catholicism on Friday?
And I'm like, yeah, yeah, I can do that.
I can do that.
And because I had done the work, I went home and I experienced probably one of the most moving and beautiful things that had ever happened.
Only by virtue of the fact of Alcoholics Anonymous and the men that came over the phone and would hug me over the phone and help me, help me walk through things.
I, today.
Almost 31 and a half, 30 and a half years sober, am always amazed at how all we have to do is this with each other and we just have to hold hands and we get to walk this road together.
I want to thank you so much.
I want to thank you for my life.
Thank you for allowing me to participate in my sobriety.
Thank you so much.