- Thank you Steve.
- I'm Lynn and I'm an alcoholic.
- Hi Lynn. - Hi Lynn.
- I am really honored to be here.
I wanna thank Nancy for giving my number to Abraham,
who reminded me about coming here.
It's always an honor to do anything in Alcoholics Anonymous.
And I'll tell you a little bit of what it was like,
what happened and what it's like now.
And I didn't see who raised their hand of the new person,
but welcome home, whoever you are, welcome home.
If you're anything like me,
this is exactly where you're supposed to be.
I would not have thought that when I first got here.
As a matter of fact, I did everything in my power
to make sure that didn't happen.
Yesterday was my actual AA birthday
and I started my morning today at 7.30 in an AA meeting.
And it's only fitting that I end my evening tonight
in a 7.30 meeting.
And I say that because I couldn't have planned that.
Those are the kind of things that I have just accept
in my life today.
What it was like, it was awful.
And I'm trying to be respectful of the meeting in that case.
I am the middle of three girls.
I'm originally from Washington.
My parents were professional people.
By everything on the outside,
you would think we had everything going for us.
I went to all the right schools,
participated in all the right events,
on and on and on and on.
I didn't know that once I started drinking,
I could not stop.
And my mother, when I was growing up,
was a nurse, a registered nurse.
If anybody could have saved me, it would have been my mom.
Not only because I was her daughter,
but my mother cared about what you thought
about her being a mother.
And the idea that her daughter is out
doing the stuff I was doing was just too much for my mom.
Now that she didn't love me,
but she would have done everything to make sure that people,
you know, she looked at my behavior
as a criticism of her parenting.
She didn't realize my drinking was my drinking.
It had nothing to do with her.
But I look back now and I know that's how she saw it.
And I can only say that because today,
when my kids were growing up, our youngest is 40.
I kind of thought the same thing.
You know, I kind of identified my parenting
on how my children were behaving and what they were doing.
So I understood what my mom was saying
or how she was feeling.
But I didn't know that once I drank, I couldn't stop.
And I have two sisters, you know, one older, one younger.
All of us got the same message, all of us.
But for some reason, I heard something different.
I was raised in a church.
You can't get closer to God than Southern Black Baptist.
I knew the Lord's prayer before I knew my ABCs.
You know, I could recite every book of the Bible,
Old and New Testament, in front of hundreds of people.
When I was a little girl,
all of those things were just a part of my growing up.
None of that stopped me from drinking, none of it.
And I don't knock religion.
I'm just saying I had to find my religion
with a bunch of low bottom drugs in 9604.
That's where I had to find religion.
But for me, you know, originally I'm from Washington.
And again, you know, I drank initially
just to kind of hang out, be cool, and just be a part of.
Never did I ever think I'd be here with you, never.
This was not part of my agenda.
I was just trying to, you know, have fun
and hang out with all the cool people.
When I was in high school, the school that I went to,
you, it didn't matter how many credits you have.
'Cause I also have a mother who was like, no joke.
And again, she told me the same message.
She told my other two sisters,
you're not gonna sit around my house and do nothing.
You're gonna go to school or you're gonna get a job
once you get out of high school,
but you're not just sitting around here doing anything.
And I had a Dean of Women.
I'll never forget her, Dr. Consuelo Shaw.
She was this big, robust black woman.
She must've been six, four, six, five.
She was solid too.
And she called me into her office
because I always got kicked out of school
for instigating stuff, meaning they knew I did it,
but they couldn't prove I did it.
So, you know, I was all, and I used to pride myself on that.
I used to think I could talk myself into stuff
and talk myself out of it.
You know, that was like my superpower.
Little did I know how that also took me to,
almost took me to the gates of insanity.
But Dr. Shaw, when I was a senior, she told me, she said,
Ms. Winston, you don't have enough hours to graduate.
Now, telling my mother I wasn't gonna graduate
from high school, I couldn't imagine anything worse.
And then the very next breath, she said,
but we're gonna give you your diploma
so you don't come back.
Now, when you've got a personality like mine,
coupled with alcohol on top of it,
that's a dangerous combination.
And again, I always wanted to do the easier, softer way.
I was not gonna work,
even though my mother said that you had to work.
I was gonna find the easier, softer way.
And my idea of that was going to school,
going to school 3,000 miles away from my family,
because I figured if I just get away
from people, places, and things,
I had that thinking long before I got to you.
People, places, and things.
And I thought if I went away to school,
you know, get away from my mom and her nagging,
my sisters with their perfect braids,
and you know, I could kind of do my own thing.
I was smart enough to know
I wasn't able to survive on my own.
I needed my parents' income to help me,
but I knew I couldn't take care of myself.
So I actually got accepted into a school.
The school that I got accepted into is a very good school.
I just didn't go.
But in my thought, my mother never wanted me to go.
Never, ever, ever wanted me to go that far.
She didn't mind me going to a school local,
but she took, said, "Nope, nope, she's not mature enough.
"She's, mm-mm, don't let her do it.
"It'll be a waste of money."
And my father thought, "It'll be great.
"She'll learn to grow up.
"She'll mature, blah, blah, blah."
He talked her into it.
So I went 3,000 miles away to school.
And I say that because my parents paid my tuition
to go to school.
I didn't have a grant.
I didn't have a loan.
You know, they worked hard to support us.
And I screwed all that up.
I know today the only person I cheated
out of in education was myself.
But my first year there,
I did exactly like I had done in high school.
I did just enough to get by.
I didn't know there were prerequisites in this school,
and they wanted you to go to class.
It wasn't enough that I was just there.
You know, 'cause again, my arrogance and my hubris was,
"You should just be happy I'm here,
"and I'm paying you cash.
"Leave me alone, let me do my own thing."
'Cause I had always thought like that.
They didn't agree.
So they sent my smart butt home after a year
on academic suspension.
I had to go back, face my mother.
I couldn't imagine anything worse facing my mother
'cause she didn't want me to go on the first bus.
And now to hear her say, "I told you so,"
was just like, "Oh my gosh."
By then, my mother had switched occupations.
She had gone back to school.
She finished her master's,
and she was now in a completely different occupation.
And she was now working for a major defense contractor.
And during this time, she was able to hire a lot of people
or make connections for people.
But because I got sent home,
she had to do something with me.
So my mom got me a lot of different jobs.
Now, people hired me not because I could do anything.
I couldn't do anything.
They hired me because of my mother.
They hired me because of their relationship with her.
I realized after I got sober
how I destroyed all those things.
And when I was doing all of this,
it was at a time where you could smoke at your desk,
you could go at lunch and drink.
I'm gonna age myself here.
I mean, it was very common.
It was no big deal.
My problem was when I went at lunch
with my friends to go drink, I'd stay.
They'd all go back to work.
Like, "This isn't working.
"She can't come back here."
Each time, it was one more notch against my mom.
And each time, I kept telling her,
"I'm so sorry I'm not gonna do that again."
Every time I said that, I meant it.
Again, I didn't realize that what I was doing,
I couldn't control.
I really thought, "I'm gonna do better.
"I'm not gonna do that anymore."
I knew better.
I was raised in a home that taught me those things.
I just couldn't stop.
Anyway, after a year of being out of school,
you could write the dean of my school.
And if she accepted, you could come back.
My father helped me write the letter.
He had to talk my mother again into letting me go.
She didn't want to, but she agreed.
And this time, I did stay.
I did stay the next four years.
And this time, I did finish.
The difference is I took classes and professors
who liked to do what I liked to do.
And again, I'm not proud of that.
I know I cheated myself out of an education.
I know my parents worked hard to send me to school.
And in spite of that, I'm trying to be hip-slick and cool.
But while I got there, there was a guy
who was being drafted that year by the NFL.
My father saw Super Bowl tickets in his future.
I messed that up.
This guy, not only was he being drafted by the NFL,
he also sold drugs.
And I'm respectful of the traditions and the program,
but it is my story.
And he sold a lot of drugs.
He didn't do 'em.
He didn't do drugs at all.
He didn't smoke.
He didn't drink.
He was a vegan or vegetarian before it was even popular.
I mean, his body was his temple.
That's how he was gonna make his livelihood.
But he knew this was a quick way to make some money.
I also knew that he could be a very violent person.
And he told me,
'cause I started dabbling, dabbling in other things.
And he said, "Lynn," 'cause we would watch all of you
come and bring the baby's milk money,
the house payment, the whatever you owe,
you'd bring it to him.
And he said, "Lynn, don't you ever end up like these people."
I said, "Never, never end up like these people."
Uh-uh.
I mean, again, that arrogance and that uterus.
And when I said it, I meant it.
I didn't realize again that once I started anything,
I could not stop.
And my shifting of behaviors got me in trouble.
And I did what I've always done.
I ran home.
I finished school, ran home, stealing from him,
afraid of him.
And my mom knew something was up,
but she didn't know what it was.
But anyway, she said, "Okay, it's time for you now
to go really find a job, 'cause you have a degree
that says you know how to do something."
I still couldn't do anything for the dentist.
I had a piece of paper that said I could.
But this time I found someone
who I thought was gonna be my everything.
He was a merchant seaman.
He was home six months and he was gone six months.
I loved it.
I could live like a Viking six months.
In the other six months, I could play house.
The problem was, again, when he was gone,
my behavior kept going and I kept drinking.
And one day he came back and there was no lights,
there was no gas, there was nothing.
And we're living in my godparents' house.
And he would ask me, "Lynn, what are you doing
with the money I'm sending you to take care of the lights,
the gas, the heat?"
And I would, again, justify it.
Aunt Betty and Uncle Homer, these are my godparents.
They don't need the money.
Aunt Betty has enough fur coats.
Uncle Homer's got his back.
I mean, the thinking was just off the hook,
the way I just dismissed being responsible.
And he said, "Lynn, I just can't live like this anymore."
He had a brother that lived here in LA
and the brother and his wife were having their first child.
And he said, "Lynn, I just can't be a part of this.
I don't wanna be responsible for you.
When you drink, you change.
And I don't know what to do with that.
I just can't be responsible for that.
I'm gonna go see my brother and their new child."
And his mother was coming.
And I begged him, begged him to please take me with you.
Again, it's people, places, and things.
It's never me, it's this.
And for some reason, I guess he just felt sorry for me,
but he agreed and we ended up,
and since he could ship out anywhere in the world,
I convinced him to let's go to Northern California,
not Southern California,
because nobody's sober in Southern California.
We have to go to Northern California
because there, you know, I stand a chance.
And I meant all of that.
I mean, I hadn't researched it.
I didn't know what I was talking about.
I just wanted to get out of there
and didn't think I could make it in Southern California.
So we did.
We ended up in the Bay Area.
And again, wherever I go, there I am.
And within a matter of days, the old land showed up
and I drank through all the money he had saved.
We ended up getting kicked out of the place
we were staying in.
We ended up in this fleabag hotel
in the Tenderloin district.
If you don't know where that is,
not a scenic spot, the Bay Area,
but it's their version of Skid Row.
And this guy ended up keeping our clothes
because we couldn't pay for the room
by the hour, by the day or by the week, just nothing.
'Cause I had gone through everything.
And this guy, again, he said, I just can't do it.
I'm calling your mother.
I'm gonna ask her to please give, you know,
send me a ticket to send you home.
I don't wanna be responsible for you.
And I certainly don't wanna call your mother
and tell her you're dead.
I'm just not gonna do it.
So he had, you know, him and my mom cooked up this thing
where, you know, he was gonna ship me home to her.
And again, I just pleaded with him.
I said, please don't send me back there.
I knew going back was not gonna be good for me.
I knew it.
I didn't know what it was gonna be,
but I knew it wasn't gonna be good for me going back there.
And again, I hope he's at Al-Anon,
but he felt sorry for me.
He allowed me to come to Los Angeles.
And I said, allow me to come to Los Angeles
because the deal was, I'll get you to LA,
then you get home.
You're not staying with me.
That's the deal.
You're gonna get home.
And again, wherever I go, there I am.
And I started drinking again.
And one more time, we ended up in one of those places.
This time we ended up down on Fifth and San Pedro,
down on Skid Row.
And he was so disgusted with me.
He said, I don't know how to help you.
I don't know what to do for you, but I'm leaving.
What you do and how you get home is up to you.
I can't do this anymore.
But there is a place, Lynn, where a friend of mine
who drinks like you, he went and they helped him.
Maybe they'll help you.
And I mean, he said, it was so pathetic.
And again, I'm thinking, I don't want him to leave.
So I'm willing again to do whatever I needed to do.
And I said, okay, where's this place?
And he said, I don't know.
I've never been there, but you can call this place
and maybe they'll tell you where to go.
I bummed a dollar from a guy selling rocks on the corner
down on Fifth and San Pedro.
This is when a dollar was a dollar.
And I actually got changed for the dollar and put it in,
back then they had phone booths.
For those of you who don't know what a phone booth is,
it's a great big glass thing that Superman would come in.
You put money in it.
I have a granddaughter, she said, what's a phone booth?
I'm like, what?
Oh my God.
She said, nevermind, I'll Google the image.
A phone booth is this great big thing that you put money in
and it was either a rotary or a push button.
And the guy, again, who told me where to go said,
call this place.
It was central office, never heard of it in my life.
Didn't know what it was, had no idea,
just didn't want him to leave me.
Especially down on Fifth and San Pedro, don't leave me.
I ended up calling that place in that phone booth.
I ended up calling what I now know as central office.
They said, if you leave now, you can go to a place
where the meeting is probably still going on.
You might be able to catch the end of the meeting.
And I had changed from the dollar to get on the right bus
to go in the right direction, get off at the right stop.
I walked into the back of this place,
'cause I told the bus driver where I was trying to go.
So he was guiding me.
Okay, just go around there.
Went into the back, I got there and there was these,
I know today they were old timers.
And they were doing this thing called the Lord's Prayer.
And they were in a circle.
And when I walked in there, I just stood there
and I just cried, because I couldn't remember
the Lord's Prayer.
I knew the words, but I couldn't remember it.
And those old timers, as only old timers can say,
they didn't stop the prayer.
But afterwards they said, are you having problems
with your drinking?
Oh, you're drinking and having problems.
And I honestly didn't know, you know,
because where I drank and the people I hung out with,
no one called me an alcoholic.
They called me an alcoholic, you know, a wino,
a drunk, a bitch, all kinds of other things.
But an alcoholic was like a step up.
I didn't know if I was an alcoholic.
It seemed too clean.
I don't know.
And they were like, are you having problems
with your drinking?
And I said, yes.
I was 24 years old, 24 years old.
And back then people gave you your sponsor.
Wasn't no picking.
And you certainly couldn't fire them.
They weren't having that.
I didn't even know what that was.
But this old timer named Herb K came to me and said,
this is going to be your sponsor.
And this woman who he gave me,
and I consider her an angel.
Her name was Virginia T.
And she looked right in my eyes.
She said, welcome home.
We've been waiting for you.
And I just stood there and I just cried.
No one had welcomed me anywhere in a long time.
I had no clothes.
I had no ID.
I smelled like where I was living.
You know, those people, instead of running away from me,
they ran to me.
I was part of the herd.
They just loved me in spite of myself.
And I didn't know what to do.
And they kept saying, you know,
you just need to show up for meetings.
Where are you staying?
I don't have a place to stay.
'Cause the guy left me, you know, downtown.
And they would get me back and forth to meetings
and Skid Row, back and forth.
And people in the fellowship would let me come home.
This one guy named Cleo, let me come to his house.
He didn't know me.
And his kids got up like a choir out of their bed.
And they allowed me to take a shower and change.
And 9604 is where I ended up.
And at that time,
9604 used to have rummage sales every week.
And I got clothes out of the back of 9604.
That's where my wardrobe came from.
You know, and those people said,
you just get your butt to a meeting.
I didn't know what a meeting was.
I didn't care what a meeting was.
I just didn't want to feel what I was feeling.
And I couldn't, I just couldn't stop.
I had no, I had no more fight in me, none.
And the woman who became my sponsor,
she immediately said, you gotta get into the book.
Now again, my upbringing in the church,
I'm thinking about the Bible.
She said, oh honey, no, not the Bible.
We're not talking about the big book.
I didn't know what the big book was.
And I was too ashamed and too embarrassed to tell her
I couldn't read the big book.
It's not that I'm unintelligent.
My drinking had just completely consumed my ability
to comprehend anything.
So I'd read the same line over and over and over again.
I didn't know what it was.
And she said, honey,
that's why we have step study and book study meetings.
That's where you're gonna learn
how to get into the big book.
She said, you can't screw your way into sobriety.
You gotta take the steps.
And I have people around me today
who still love me enough to tell me the truth.
They didn't sugar coat anything.
And I remember when it was New Year's Eve,
that following, 'cause I came in in February,
that following year, that December,
that end of the year, New Year's Eve,
I was in the kitchen at 9604, crying.
And Virginia said, what's wrong with you?
And I said, oh, I'm so lonely.
'Cause it's a dance at 9604.
She said, no, you're not, you're not lonely.
You're horny, you don't even know the difference.
You don't know how to identify your feelings at all.
She said, but you cannot come here
and think somebody is gonna fix you.
That's not how this works.
And I had another girlfriend, her name was Denise.
She was an old timer.
She had six months when I met her.
She was just as wacky as I was.
And Virginia took both of us,
she hates when I tell the story,
but she took us to Frederick's of Hollywood
and got us a dildo and said,
this is the only thing you need.
Do not plug into any of these people here.
Stay chunky bird, and you need to get into the steps, period.
And looking back now, I know what she was doing.
She was trying to keep me focused.
She said, if you try to get caught up in someone else,
you're gonna get in trouble.
And then I got, I don't know, maybe about,
I might've had six or seven months
and I'm pointing out different people in the program.
And I said, what about that guy?
She said, nope, how about him?
Hell no, how about him?
No, he's crazy.
How about him?
Uh-uh, what about that one?
She said, well, he's okay.
Six months later, we got married.
We're still married.
So with him came this precocious little girl charm.
Ugh, she was four.
And I didn't like her.
She talked all the time.
She was always with him.
And I said, I don't like her.
She said, oh, honey, she don't like you either.
I'm like, what, she doesn't like me.
She said, no, no, no, that's not how it works.
If you're gonna be with a man with a child,
the child comes too.
And it's not that I don't love children, I love kids.
But because of my drinking and using,
I can't physically have them.
So to open up myself to someone else's child,
I just couldn't see myself doing it.
I did not wanna make myself vulnerable like that.
And I certainly didn't wanna tell you that.
You know, I just couldn't do it.
She said, the child comes with him.
If you're gonna be with him, she comes too.
And that little girl, and that's how I referred to her,
that little girl stayed like that for a while.
And my sponsor, again, had me doing a lot of writing
and a lot of reading.
And there was a lot of stuff that she was going through
with her birth mother.
And I couldn't understand why all this stuff was happening.
And my grandmother, she explained it to me in a way
that made sense to me, maybe not to anyone else.
But she said, baby, you did not give birth to that child.
What you're going through are your labor pains.
This is how the two of you are gonna connect.
And nothing and no one will be able to break that bond.
That little girl was 44 years old.
That little girl is my daughter.
I absolutely adore her.
I was talking to her daughter when I was driving in,
asking me about, what's a phone booth?
That's her daughter, who's at Cal State San Marcos.
I'm really proud of her and them.
And also, we also had,
because we wanted to expand our family,
we adopted another child.
And the child that we adopted was five years old.
We didn't want a baby
'cause we wanted them pretty close in age.
And he came from the Department of Children's Services.
And do you know they still have orphanages?
Beautiful, beautiful.
He was in an orphanage in Pasadena.
Absolutely gorgeous, horses, hills, oh my gosh.
But when we went to go get him,
they had all of his little things in a garbage bag.
And my husband said, "What is that?"
And they said, "Those are his things."
He said, "I'm not taking him out of here like that.
"I'm not in a garbage bag."
And there was this store,
half of you won't remember what it was called,
but it was called Sears, Sears in Pasadena.
And my husband went and got a little piece of luggage.
We still have that luggage in our garage today.
And put my son's items in that luggage.
He said, "He's not garbage.
"I'm not putting his things in that garbage bag."
That same son is now 40 years old.
I believe he has what I have.
My son struggles with the disease of alcoholism
and other things.
And as a result, he has been in and out of prison,
literally since he was 19 years old.
It breaks my heart that all the people I work with,
all the time I've been here,
everything that I've done, and my husband,
it doesn't work like that.
One thing I know, this is a program for people that want it,
not those that need it.
If anybody could do anything, it would certainly save my son.
And right now, I have no idea where he is.
He was released from prison a few months ago,
and he was kind of all over the place,
and in and out of trouble again.
And I'm at a place now where I almost wish
he'd get picked back up and put in jail.
Because at least that way, I would know where he's at.
I know he's sick, because my son scares,
not scares me physically, but my son is 6'2".
He's 180 pounds, he's ball-headed and tatted up.
I know that if someone sees him, he could scare them.
And before you know it, he will be a statistic.
He will be shot dead.
I know he won't do anything, but no one else knows that.
And if he's locked up, I know he's safe.
And again, I don't wish that on anyone,
but I wish that on him,
only because I just want him to be safe.
And I know people in the fellowship,
I mean, people in prison, have gotten sober.
I know it, 'cause they come to meetings and they tell me.
And I'm hoping that something is read or said
that'll get his attention.
It was five years ago last week
when we lost our oldest grandson.
He just didn't wake up, and no one could have prepared me
for having to bury our eldest grandson.
And our oldest son, 'cause my husband has three kids
before we adopted my son.
Our oldest son just really just kind of,
it was his only child, you know,
and it's just left, it's just a gaping hole in him.
But, you know, we're there to support him
and do whatever we can, but you can't be prepared for that.
But I will say that I've had more springs
and more summers than I've had winters.
I really have, you know.
That grandmother who said, "Those are your labor pains,"
I was able to be of service when she transitioned.
My family allowed me to be there.
When my mother died, I was able to be there
and be of service.
When my dad died, he left me the executor, me, the executor,
and said, "Your mother's not gonna be worth a damn.
"You're gonna have to help her."
And I feel honored for that.
None of that would have happened without you, none of it.
I don't take credit for anything.
All I've done is suit it up and I've shown up, that's it.
You know, and I've done, even when I didn't want to,
a lot of things here.
You know, I've stayed busy.
I still go to a lot of meetings.
I still work with women.
I still try to be of service.
One of the things that I was doing pre-pandemic
that I wanna get back into now, especially with my son,
is H&I, you know, because I want to start working
in that particular facility.
By the way, I work with people just like me.
I work with people down on Skid Row.
I don't, but we have therapists and psychiatrists,
the agency that I work for, do that.
And it's a constant reminder of just how grateful I am
because I know it could all be gone like that.
It could be gone like that.
I don't take this thing for granted at all.
You know, I don't play with my sobriety.
I don't play with anything like that
because I know I'm living on borrowed time.
There's not a doubt in my mind.
You know, I have been more than blessed.
And that woman who was my sponsor,
she moved to Florida, thank you.
And there was a time right after the pandemic,
a lot of those old timers who were in that semicircle
saying the Lord's Prayer were all transitioning.
They were all dying.
I mean, all of my rocks, you know, and I called her.
She had moved to Florida.
And I said, Virginia, you know, the last one was Leon.
And when I called her, she was completely inaudible.
My sponsor has never done that to me, ever.
In the years she and I had been working together,
she always made me feel like I was
the most important person in the room, always.
And she would always stop whatever she was doing to help me.
It didn't matter.
This time, I didn't understand what she was saying.
And she hung up.
Her daughter called back and she said,
I'm so sorry, mom's upset.
Lee, her husband, had just died.
I was 37 years sober.
It not once crossed my mind to ask her how she was doing.
It just didn't cross my mind.
And I felt horrible because I'm there again,
dumping all this stuff on her.
Not even thinking once that something,
maybe she's going through something.
And she called me back as only an old timer can do.
And she said, baby girl, what else you want from us?
We've shown you how to live.
Now we're showing you how to die.
With grace, with dignity, and above all, sobriety.
You know, you say you love this program.
Then you need to walk the way you talk.
When you go to a meeting, you need to look sober,
talk sober, act sober.
You might be the only big book a newcomer ever sees.
I don't care how much you tell me you love this program.
I want to see it now.
Faith without works is dead.
I have never forgotten those things.
And I can never pay you back.
'Cause I remember asking her, I said,
how do I pay you back for everything you've done for me?
I mean, my family met her when we had
the Royal Convention in Seattle.
My family was just so in awe of AA.
They just could not get over these drunks up there,
not drinking, and you know, acting like they had some sense.
Oh, they were just like, could not believe it.
And she said, honey, you can't pay us back.
That's not how this works.
You do it for the next drunk that comes behind you.
You pass it on that way.
You know, so again, I am so honored to be here.
Thank you so much.
It is my pleasure.
I just can't say enough about Alcoholics Anonymous.
And I hope, you know, that I live the way that I talk.
You know, and they always tell me, follow people home.
They said, I don't care what you say at the podium.
Follow them home.
Don't follow me on the 405.
But if I come home, I'll be a whole 'nother person.
Follow me home.
You know, see if I walk the way I talk.
'Cause it's not easy.
It's easy to stand here and say that.
It's another thing to go out there and do this.
So if you're new, stay close.
Again, thank you so much, Nancy.
It was just an honor when I saw her at the Valley Club.
And she said, well, thank you again.
It's my honor.
Thank you so much.