The Union Park Group in Orlando, FL

Hi, my name is Tony. I'm an alcoholic.

I don't know if anyone can see at the back here, but I have to. I have to be careful because I've snapped the tendon in my left leg. So but so I have to keep If I drop dead from a thrombosis, I'm told by the doctor that I've got to keep my leg up. Being an alcoholic, I defy those orders so.

So I don't stand as much as I can and my legs going to sleep now

like my head used to go to sleep many years ago. But anyway, I'll try and settle in here and see if I are you. OK Degrad? OK, well I'll tell you the best I can. As I said my name, I'm an alcoholic

at the day at a time. I've been

sober just over 22 years.

I don't say that to impress you. I suddenly impress because I couldn't stay silver for more than 22 minutes,

and that's a lie. I mean, I could actually stay dry for six weeks. That was the limit for me when I used to try and stay dry on my own, and I'd better put that there

anyway. Where should I start? I guess at the beginning. Well, I start at the end. In fact, talking about alcoholism and alcoholic personality, thing that saved my life when I came into Alcoholics Anonymous was is on December 29th, 1975. I try and speak slowly because I got a funny accent. I came into Alcoholics Anonymous December the 29th 1975, two days before my Natal birthday

and Pacific Palisades Group Los Angeles. And the speaker that night though, 2 speakers,

a man called Don who is a doctor, and the other one was a man called Chuck C, Chuck Chamberlain. And when Chuck got up to speak that night, I realized I'd come home.

It wasn't so much that, you know, Chuck C was a, an alcoholic like all the rest of us, but he was a great speaker. He had a great aura about him of peace

and he described the alcoholic personality. He said that you know, Alcoholics have driven people. We are tough people, we are hard people, there is nothing. We are unstoppable people. We have great world willpower. And he said for years in his life, he tried to beat this problem with willpower.

And my ears really picked up that night because that's what I've given it. I've given it my best shot. I tried to beat this with willpower and I failed miserably all the time. As you know, that's a regular story in these groups. I, I don't know any of you here. I know only about a few of you people, but I know that we're all the same. Basically, we all have different personalities. We're all different kinds of alcoholic, but basically we're all alcoholic, drug addict, whatever.

Had I the money or the time when I started drinking? I and drugs were fashionable in those days, but they weren't. I'd have hit those as well.

I drank anything I couldn't chew

and I did everything at the double and nothing was enough for me.

My thing in life was, is that all there is? Like the Peggy B song Is that all there is? Everything was constantly disappointing me and when I got into a A that first night, it was one of those amazing moments. I thank God that I wasn't an intellectual. I wasn't clever, I wasn't very intelligent. I had an average brain that was about it. But I'd been a very successful in my career

through sheer willpower, I guess. And when I heard Chuck talking that night and the other guy, Don, they talked about the self will run riot and the power of denial of the alcoholic. And I can see tonight standing here 22 years later, a manifestation of my own alcoholism, which is quite recently. I'm an actor and I'm making

a movie here. I have a friend here, Alex. It's a stunt double for me.

Also an alcoholic,

the Australian cat how many we doing this stunt I over there and

doubly should pull the tendon.

But anyway, why did I had to do this thing and I snapped the tendon and I got up and typical alcoholic fashion 22 years. They said I'm okay it's only a machine gun bullet wound, you know, don't worry about it. Went back to work and I struggled through the rest of the day. Next day I was limping around and with this broken tendon and everything was fine. See. OK, yeah, I'm fine.

A whole week passed and my leg started to swell up and the ankle was bruised. And I thought, oh, and the nurse on the set, she said, well, I think maybe you ought to go and see the doctor in case you have a clot in there. You know, a thrombosis and A and a clot can kind of kill you. You know, the clock breaks away. You can, that can be it, Curtains. So I went to the doctor and he examined it, told me to get up on the table. And he passed around in the car. He said, he said, you've snapped the tendon. I said, have I got thrombosis? And they snubbed you, snapped the Achilles tendon. I saw. OK, so,

but that's very serious, is it? Yeah,

I said, what happens if you don't have it operated in within the next two weeks? You can be crippled for the rest of your life. So I took a moment. I thought, wow, I got a good life

and I've got another leg

and a good career. I play Long John Silver now,

so I consider this nicer to myself. Yeah, fine. I don't need the operation. I'm just going to go on, I said. You mean I live permanently? Yeah,

he looked at me. He said yeah, you can be lame, you're out of football atrophy. I said, no, it's no big deal.

And I was hobbling back to the car and this nurse was with me, and she said, you know, you really ought to tick what he said seriously, Because, you know, it's your leg. It's your health. It's more important than doing this movie. And I said, yeah, I know, but I'm going to go on, you know,

And I found the producers up that night that said no operation, I'm just going to go on. I'll just have a limp permanent, that's all. I was amazed that they didn't react in the kind of wonderful way, you know? Thank God. Great. Yes, they said.

And three days later, they punched on me. They said you can have the operation. And it didn't occur to me. And I phoned my sponsor up in California and I told him the story. So that's typical alcoholic. And it reminds me of the denial that was a form of denial because I think we're tough, resilient people. I mean, how many of us are here tonight? I don't know. I don't know how I'm alive because I should have been dead years ago.

And if I wasn't dead, I would should have been in jail years ago. Life isn't fair. If it was fair, I would be dead. But I used to drive a car blacked out and still deny it. You know, I used to go down to Central Hospital in Los Angeles, you know, carrying the message down. And I see old guys and wheelchairs shaking, falling apart with wine saws all over them. And I said, what are you doing here? I said it's an, A meeting. Do I come into an, a, a meeting? No, I'm just suffering from nervous.

Now that's denial, you know, looking down in the gutter, face down in the gutter and saying you're not dying. That's what it's. And this in the way was a manifestation of that. It was a kind of funny way. I mean, I'm glad I, they persuaded me to have the operation, but the point of that boring story was just to tell you that

that is really alcoholic behavior. And I, I got it done and it's still a pain in the butt because I'm now immobilized. And for now, it's hard to be immobilized this nightmare. So I can't get on much. But I'm stuck with this for three months. And I'm going back to work on Monday to do some sitting down work. And then we put a spoon in the movie and we go back to Los Angeles. But anyway, the point of all this was I I just want to say that in that euphoria at that time, that few weeks ago,

the wonderful thing about being sober is that even the possibility of being lame was exciting. Because everything is exciting.

I mean, I may be boring, but I've never been bored in 22 years.

And I told my sponsor this joke on the phone. He said, like the alcoholic on the raft, you know, the alcoholic was dying. He's on the raft. He's his ship has gone down. He's the only survivor. And he's bobbing around the ocean. Yeah. Sun is blazing down, and he's covered in sores and he's dying. He's only got some water left for maybe another two hours. And he's he's dying. He's had it in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. And this big ocean liner spots him and it starts circling around and it gets closer and closer. And the cat says, hold on, we're coming to get you. And the alcohol says which way are you going?

I guess that's it. That's what we

such great people because we are crazy. I remember that night when I heard Chuck see and that guy talking and I thought I am insane and I've been insane for many years and I'm allowed out and it's okay to be here. And that night I heard Chuck says we're here because we're not all there. He said that's fine and that's the great thing because we are alive and we are enriched souls I believe. I don't know if we are special people. I don't think we are special. I think we are cursed people and we are truly blessed if we can get a handle on this thing called alcoholism

a day at a time.

I'm I carry around in my body and my personality is seemingly hopeless disease which is terminal, progressive and will kill me. And yet for some reason, 22 years later, I'm sitting in a meeting house in Orlando, FL

I and I take it that my life is none of my business because I came to this country in 1974. I became an actor back in the 60s and it was and full blown now got a guy came in 74 to New York and I was looking. I came to America,

my intention was to make a lot of money and, you know, make the pot of gold. And the last place I expected to end up was Alcoholics Anonymous. The last days Alcoholics ever want to come to is Alcoholics Anonymous. And yet This is why I ended up much against my will, much against my will. And I can't explain why that happened to me, except I think there was one streak of decency left in me and I'd done everything to get into a lot of trouble. I've been through two marriages. I'm I'm still with my second wife and

and why she lived with me all those years. I wouldn't have given me more than 4 minutes of my time if I'd been her. But like we do attract some pretty remarkable people I think. I don't know why they put up with us, but my wife put up with me through the drinking years and through sobriety. I don't know which was harder for her.

She's one of those weird moderates, you know, terminally moderate, Sure, in Orlando with me. And she has one glass of wine every night. I don't know why she bothers because she's on the table for about a whole hour

Tuesday, ends up pouring half of it down the drain. She smokes 2 cigarettes and doesn't bother doing hail.

And I asked if I said why'd you bother to do it? You don't even finish it sometimes. You know, she's walking around the house, something, you know, back in England or whatever we are and she'll suddenly say, didn't I leave a drink? Somebody's just on the kitchen table. I always know.

You know, I always know.

I didn't even have it all in your hand. She's what? I don't need it that much, I said. What does it do for you? If you have one drink? She swell. It's nice. It takes the edge off. I said. What edge?

But she's normal. She's not an Alphabolic. She says things like weird things like leave it, let it go, forget it. I have to go on my knees every morning to ask God to help me to forget a long list of resentments in my mind and go back years and years, even before I was born. I can resent anything,

but those normal people tend to be whatever normal meals I'm out. My wife, I guess,

tend to be easy going, have an equanimity in their nature and have a lot of common sense and I respect them very much. And I have a lot of friends who are not our garlics. They still puzzle me. I mean, I go over some friends in London and between four of us, they, we sit there at the table maybe six sometimes. I don't go out that often, but when we do and I watch them, they have a bottle of wine between five of them

and it's still half empty or half full when we got to leave. And that's the weird thing. I remember when I first got sober and it was my first year and I was serving from New York to Los Angeles and there was some kind of, I know, public holidays and Thanksgiving, but it was something like that. Maybe 4th of July, I can't remember. And this stewardess and claims going on with champagne, you know,

champagne for I can't even I don't even maybe Thanksgiving. She came to me, she said do you want some champagne? I should know. Not for me, thanks. She will come on her side.

Specialist. No, no, no, no. She would not. I said no, no, no. She said one. I said I got a report to work next Thursday.

She looked at me. She said I don't understand. I said no, no do I

see? Nothing ever satisfied me. Nothing ever satisfied me in the ocean of booze, nothing would ever satisfy me. Work success never fills the cup. I'm always wanting more because I'm getting older. I'm wanting less now because I've done it all. I've had some fun and as I said, I've never been bored in my life in these last 22 years. I never get bored

and I've learned a lot. I think through the years of being sober. I hope I've been learning and will go on learning. I don't come to any great conclusions because every everything is pretty open-ended. I I came into our house anonymous as an agnostic. Most amazing thing happened. I came to New York first of all in 1974 and

to do a play and I met this woman. It was in October 1974

and she was a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and I was drunk as a skunk and sick to death and insane and she didn't say a thing. She did the typical a, a thing. She left me alone. She just smiled a lot at me, never mentioned it. And we started rehearsing and we started working on this day and we were in this big successful show for eight or nine months, I think. And she, Mary, she's dead now. She died silver, but she never said a thing to me. She smiled at all my stupid jokes. Sometimes she come over to the bar with me and have a coffee and there's one of those restaurant bars. And I was really puzzled.

Somebody told me this, you know, Mary is an alcoholic now I know that she'd gone uncensored. Something, you know, tell Tony I'm an alcoholic and I'm an AI. Think that. So they passed it on that way.

You know, Mary's an alcoholic I saw already. God, that's sad.

I sure I don't see a drinking this. No, she doesn't drink. She's an A A. What's that? Alcoholics. Oh, I said that a lot. Yeah, that's religious. Yeah, well, she's sober anyway. I said that's why she smokes so much. Is that why she. I couldn't think of that, and I never dreamed of asking her. And then my last few weeks in New York, I remember I was in the party

and I was, I tried to stay dry for about 6 weeks and I was

in this body and I was drinking and I was in bad shape. And I asked her for help and she took me out. Next day we went out and had a like meal. And she tried to, she gave me some information about this weird program called Alcohol It's Anonymous. And she said some pretty insulting things to me that a child could understand. She said. You know, if you don't take the first drink, you won't get drunk.

You're just talking to me like this Mickey Mouse language.

She said it's like taking an elevator from the top floor and you can get up at any floor you want or you can go right down to the basement and into hell. Or she's like taking a subway from Park Ave. right down to the Bowery. She said you can get off anytime you want to. I thought why she talking to me in this fairy tale language. So she said would you like to come to a meeting? And I said no. Having asked for help, I typical alcohol, turned it down. But I stayed dry on my own for five weeks with a little help of a little bit of glass, which I didn't like much. That was my seat. But I stayed sober for some years, stayed dry,

and I think that time something had happened, something had shifted chemically in my body, a mind, whatever. I flew out to California in July 75 and I naturally, I first, I took that first week and I hit the booze pretty bad. Then I dried out another few days, maybe a couple of weeks, then I hit it again and it was tequila was the stuff I used to love tequila, and it did wonderful things for my brain. Tequila, being an agnostic or an atheist, it gave me visions of God. An Angel.

This is hallucinogenic. The amount I was drinking

and I think by that time my tolerance had become pretty low. My threshold had become low and I didn't need to drink that much. And I would start to hallucinate and get these strange religious visions. They were really weird. But what they did, it softened me up for this program because in December 1975, I, my wife left to go back to London. She left. She wanted to go back to let me die if that's what I chose to do, or give me space to die. She knew she couldn't handle me anymore. And I remember saying to her, I was driving into the airport. I said. I think,

I said maybe I'll join here. Sure. I

she had changed completely. She gave him the cold shoulder and I saw off the I said, say hello to your family and have a good flight. Yeah, sure.

And I realized in that moment, as she turned her back on me, that I'd lost one person I'd ever loved. She's walking with me

and I hated her for it, but I knew what she meant. She couldn't take any more, got in the car and I drove down to Arizona. I started my drive to Arizona. I was on my way to New Mexico to find those magic mushrooms that Carlos Castaneda

red Carlos Castaneda because I never had the staining part to read anything very much. But I heard about these magic mushrooms and the yucky Indians on them, so that's what I was headed. I want to get it off the planet, you know, I wanted something stronger than tequila. Anyway, I didn't get that far yet as far as Arizona and Christmas Day, and I was staying this lousy hotel.

I phoned my wife on Christmas morning in London.

I said happy Christmas, thank you,

where are you? I said I'm at Phoenix, AZ no surprise at all. Well, have a good time. She got the phone down and I drove back to California and I on the 27th of December 1975, I sat in my apartment and I knew it was over and I felt that loneliness that only Alcoholics feel. I think, well, I don't think we call it the market on loneliness, but I think it's a special loneliness that Alcoholics feel because we're going insane.

And next thing I remember, somebody phoned me and I ended up in the party. And I was in this party sitting under a piano, which is not sort of normal behaviour of social, having a fight with another actor.

And it was in Beverly Hills. And anyway, this woman picked me up and she said, come on, you're going home. And I stood outside up with this friend of mine and I said, I've lost my car. Somebody's stolen my car. No, they didn't see them. He said, you left it in the middle of Wilshire Blvd. with the engine running on. The rage on, don't you remember? I said no. He said somebody saw you, got in the car, drove you here

and you don't remember. I said no. I said all I know is that I'm an alcoholic and I need help. And I looked at those, those,

I think they were pepper trees and the sky. And I thought somebody up there really likes me because I should be dead by now. I should do all those crazy things, drive my car in blackouts, never remembering next day where I'd been, whether I killed anyone. I'd always check the radiator, see if I'd any blood or anything or damage.

I don't know why they didn't catch me. The police never picked me up. And I can't remember driving, you know, over the canyons into the valley and at night. And

this friend stayed with me. I went to his house and I said I'm an alcoholic. I sort of sobered up as like a pilot. Life went on. And I stayed Sunday back in my apartment, didn't think of phoning AAI, thought I'd give myself 24 hours to think about this very seriously, which is very dangerous to think an alcoholic, especially on one's own. So on the Monday I got up and

I don't want maybe I'm making a big thing of this and a little voice inside prompted me said pick up the phone. Until now. Five times I phoned them up and the woman answered the phone.

And her name is Dorothy. She would not leave a woman. And I said my name is Tony. I'm an alcohol that comes. I think I'm an alcoholic. I said I'm beaten. I don't think I can drink anymore. That's good. I said I feel terrible. She said that's good.

So I'm kind of at my wit's end, she said. That's really good,

I said. Do you want me to send somebody over to see you? This is 10:00 in the morning? I asked. No, I didn't want anyone in the white raincoat in the Bible and bottle of Scotch coming out to see me smiling. Goodness, all of me. I was very suspicious that this organization, I resented elderly ladies with teacups and cookies saying hi, honey.

I didn't want anything to do with that charity. I hated Christianity, church, everything about God and holiness and goodness. I thought I hated, but deep down I didn't. Of course I wanted it. I wanted to be normal. And this monkey was on my back and I couldn't get rid of it. People had told me, friends said, you know, Tony is so successful, you're so talented, why did you do this to yourself? Just do what? Can't you just cut down the drinking might look at them. That disgusted look. Are they insane?

Cut down why? Why cut down anything?

Why? Why take half measures to do anything?

So I went into the central office in West Los Angeles and

I met this lady Dorothy, and she woman in the 70s, I think. And I walked into this Pinewood office and the smell of coffee, beautiful sunny California morning, Monday morning. And I said, my name is Tony. I phoned you. Yeah. She looked like one of those

ladies out of Norman Rockwell. You know, she sits around. I said, Ann, and she talked to me for a little while and she said, what do you do? I say I'm an actress. She said, my husband was in your business. She said he was a sound engineer in the movie business, motion picture business. She said he nearly died of alcoholism. And she said I came into volunteers to answer phones. She wasn't an alcoholic herself. She's one of those, you know, big Christian women. So she talked to me about the nature of alcoholism. And I said, well, I've stopped many times, but I can't stay stopped. She said, well, that is alcoholism, honey.

I said I can stop, but I can't stay. Stop. She said that is alcoholism. And she said they'll kill you. She's here a nice looking young guy. She's what she don't want to kill yourself to yours? No, She married. I said yeah. I gave him my history and I got up to go and I said what do I do? She says, well I give me your phone number and I'll get somebody to come over and see you tonight and take you to a meeting. And they said meeting immediately. My defenses went up. I said is it religious? She says no,

just try it and see. And as I got up to go, she obviously saw that may I was in the great dilemma. I was in an agonizing dilemma,

but I knew it was over. I knew

the show was over. I know that I've been waiting for years for life to start as a rehearsing for the big event all my life. And I was on the sense, on the verge of discovering that this was the big event in my life. And she said to me very gently, she said, why don't you come home and rest? I got all choked up and emotional. I thought it was swallows come home to Capistrano. She's just come home and rest. And then she did that hokey thing

and her boy, she said why didn't you just trust in God and everything?

I knew she was gonna Zack me without word,

God word and it was like a door opened and a light went on and I thought everything I've tried with my keen alcoholic brain has failed. All my first class thinking, all my reading of power, positive thinking and self help books, all that stuff I've done a valiant effort to change myself had hadn't actually got me out of the nightmare that I was in. Some of it had helped me to get towards it however. And lo and behold, as she said that, I thought, well, why not?

I got down on the street and the most remarkable thing ever happened to me in my life. And it was one of those moments. And I don't say it to claim that I was special, because it wasn't. But maybe it's what I needed. That's the thing that happened to Bill Wilson. But it's what I needed, I guess. Because I thought I was too smart or too clever or too successful or too I know what I'm supposed to thought I was. I really never had much of an opinion myself anyway. Never liked myself. I was thought I was stupid. But at that moment something happened. I got on the street and the beautiful sunny morning and a big voice

deep inside me said it's all over and now you can start living and it's all been for a purpose. So don't forget one moment of it. Now go about your life and it is that clear. And the craving to drink left me that month 27th, 29th of December 1975, probably about eleven, 10:45 in the morning. So much so that I got into the and I knew I knew what it was. It's something I've been looking for all my life, ever since I've been a little kid. I came home from school

at the age of four one afternoon and I told my father that they said what do they teach you today? Sunny, my father, Goddesses always an alcoholic,

I think he was. He died a bitter man and unhappy man, restless. And when he drank he did those things that we do, but he only drank in later years. When he said what did they teach? I told, I said they told me the Lord's Prayer, 23rd Psalm. He's a load of rubbish. Don't believe in God and all that rubbish. There's nothing there. It's all rubbish. Get out in the world, it's a dog eat dog world. Don't trust anyone. Do them before they can do you. That was his philosophy. He didn't really practice that because he was a softy like all of us, you know,

But he tried to be tough. He was like Willy Loman in Death of the Salesman. Never felt he got his life right, you know? He died Saturday, 1981,

frightened and alone.

And that moment for that time from the age of four, right up in the night. I used to sit in cathedrals in your Saint Patrick's Cathedral in New York in my drunken years, looking at people praying. What the hell are they on about? Why is all this? Why are they on their knees? And these intelligent people are, they're just dummies. And sure enough, that old friend of mine from four years of age turned on me, said hi, I've been waiting for you. And that's what it was. That voice was like an old power,

so much so that I I I was going up Ohio Ave.

and I stopped off and I mentioned to this Catholic Church and I saw a priest crossing from the church into his office. So I said, can I talk to your mum please? Yeah, come in. Nice. I went and sat with him. I didn't know what possessed me, but he said, can I help you? I said, yeah, I was looking pretty rough. I said I think I found God. He said, well congratulations. I said, well, I don't know what to do about it. I said I so I told him I'm an alcohol and I just joined a A. He said, well, that's a good organization.

He's the great people, Alcoholics Anonymous, Lisa done there, He said. That's what you're looking for. If you're not Alicia in the best place.

I said, is it religious? He said well if you found God, you shouldn't have any problem with that.

He's happy I'll be able to hear you. I was happy. I couldn't, I couldn't get out of this fix I was in. So I went back to the apartment and Dorothy, the woman from Central Office phoned me up. She said any have you got any alcohol? Do I see? I got some beer. I'm pouring it away now. She will just pour it on the sink. Do you want me to hold on to the phone? I should know. So I pour it away so somebody will phone you. And that night a man called George phone me and and he was everything I expected denied from me.

He did one of those mean things that Alcoholics Anonymous people do. If only time. My name is George. I'm an organic. Is that Tony? I see him. Have you had a drink today? No 'cause we're doing this. Sons of bitches, all of us.

He's watching right there, so I give him the address. He says I'll see you at 6:30. He slammed the phone down so I couldn't get back to Michael, so I thought I'd go and hide.

630 Enough showed. The bell rang and I went down the stairs, treading it. I was kind of curious as well, and that was George. So there. Crooked smiled straight teeth

and his girlfriend Lila she was chewing gum and I got into the car and George smelled of after shaved lotion and he gave me a handshake which nearly broke my hand. Hi, I'm short, I'm an alcoholic. I said well, you know we'll be talking earlier. I sat in the back of the car and she turned to me and talking about ego and all the rest of it and how this disease kills you. I thought I'm really in with the I'm in with the nuts now I'm really in weird. It was born again Christians and with all due respect, I don't want anything to do with this if the Salvation Army as much as I don't want anything to do with

society and tambourines and singing hymns. I wonder. So we put into this car park in the Pacific Palisades. Ironically enough, I bought a house there recently, just up the street from there. So life is a strange way of completing the circles. As I got out of the car, I saw this actor, this old guy walking down from his car with his wife, with a crowd of other people. So I said to him, I said what's he doing here? I said I just worked with him. He said he's an alcoholic. I said I just worked with him last November, he's an alcoholic. I walked in the meeting and this old fella said hi Tony, how are you doing?

I've been waiting for you.

I said, did you know he saw? Tony said we always know. He said sit down. And then the guy called Bob came over and I sat between these two men. And that night a man called Don got up and spoke the he was the first speakers an hour and a half long the meeting and I've got to come for another 20 minutes. Anyway, Don got up and he was a surgeon from Palos Verdes and he said, he said, my name's Don, I'm an Argyle and you look like one. He looked like he looked like he'd been hit by a truck,

beaten her face, and he had a voice I raised my hands on. No, no, no, no, no.

And he said describe himself as a surgeon. I'm now going to be surgeon. I'm a surgeon

and he said my moment of awakening was when I was standing over a patient who was open.

I said I was about to operate and the nurse said, doctor, you've just operated. So I thought they were all crazy.

He was laughing. Nobody was laughing at first time

I saw these people really on to something heavy or laughing and then we had a coffee bacon. Then the second speaker got, he said my name is Shakamal Garlic. He said, by the grace of God, he said, I have 30 years this sober this January. And I thought, well, he must be suffering from brain damage.

And he talked about the nature of this disease. And he said, you know, he spent his whole life trying to organize everyone else. They used to call him the drunken preacher at Beverly Hills. He knew all about God. And Byron used to stand in the middle of Wilshire Blvd. pitching the gospel. Put it in and out of jail. Crazy man.

And he finally got sober in 1946.

And he said that this disease is a progressive, cunning, baffling, powerful, and it's terminal and it kills you. And he said it's all about surrender. He said the moment you can surrender, he said, and give up fighting, the fighting, everything and everyone

is you get, you know, you'll find the good life. And he said the moment he started, he stopped looking for the $1,000,000. He made 10 million. The moment he stopped trying to travel around the world, he traveled around many, many times. The moment he stopped trying to run, his family, his family became a family without his help. And I thought, this really makes sense. I thought I was listening to Buddha. And the meeting ended and I was introduced to Chuck. And he said George introduced me. So this is Tony. It's his first meeting. And Chuck put his hands on my shoulders. You just keep coming back, he said, because we are the luckiest people in the world.

Should we get better than better? We Alcoholics are remarkable people, he said. If you're in this organization and then this outfit, stay in. He's highly recommended. Nice. And if you do it, you will find the good life. I'm here to say that I have found the good life. I wouldn't say that it's Pollyanna or Viday. No, it's not a bed of roses.

Life is tough. Life is unfair. If it was fair, I should be dead years ago. There is no justice. If there was justice, I should have been dead years ago. I should have been in jail, in jail in the movie Hatch. I should have been in the insane asylum. But for some reason beyond any of my knowledge, any understanding,

I came to California in 1975 and for God knows what reason, ended up in Alcoholics Anonymous. And I take it that my life is none of my business. The moment I make it my business, I'm in big trouble because I'm back in the squirrel cage toy and every day I want to take it back. Every day I want to take it back,

but that's OK. That's being human, you know, as Guy said, you know, you can't get rid of the human ego totally. We need some of that. That's the burden of the saddle that keeps us moving. We have to keep moving. We have to take actions. We have to make decisions in them. Many times make wrong decisions, but at least we give it our best shot. That's what Chuck is saying. Give it your best shot. Just give it the best you got. I got over the years I've met most stunning people, you know, and I've been all over the place, all over the world. I remember going to Australia

in Melbourne and going to meeting and, you know, meeting a bunch of Australians in the room that is middle of Australians in Australia.

And so in New York and being rather New Yorkers in a meeting, I don't know who they are. I go in, but within minutes I know what they are because we all have The X Factor. Alcoholic, drunk

addict. I'd always wanted when I was a young actor. I always wanted to be an alcoholic. I thought. So romantic, you know, I saw the word diplomaniac, garlic. I used to think it's such a gritty word to be an alcoholic little knowing that I was,

and I like to see for the newcomer, the guy who's just been here 6 days, that how anyone knew or anyone old, that it's not the amount we drink. It wasn't the amount I drank, it was what it did to me.

It was the effect it had on me. When I look at my wife, who is as peculiar to me as she I must be to her, and certainly her drinking habitat, I look at someone and millions of people like her who can do everything in sort of moderation. She has her little hang ups I guess, little obsessions. Cleaning

order

does Natalie be proud and Jennifer it. She crosses me about. She tells me what to wear and I say, OK, fine,

right, That's a perfect, that's wonderful and I love it. But looking at her, I think sometimes I said I ask her something. I said, how is it you can handle your life so well? She's well, what's the problem?

She's home. She's getting older than me, I'm getting older. So if she wants to go on a diet, she would just cut out certain foods. Me, I have to stand. She will just cut down. I said, what do you mean, just cut down

your food so I can't fly?

I'll tell you, I'm the fastest Caesar in the world.

I gotta do my own stunts now. I don't

recent injury was a case in point about being an alcoholic. I think the greatest thing, and I feel inspired to say this, How much longer do I go on?

Time for a coffee. Actually,

I, I think the greatest thing for us and for me

is I'd always look for the beautiful people. I always wanted the beautiful life and I found it in the Alcoholics Anonymous in all shapes and sizes. Most met, most remarkably, people I was talking about this morning is a 36 year old con man and he's still a con man. He was a drunk con man. Now he's a sober con man.

I can see every movie makes it. Hi, Tony. How you doing?

I don't understand it. He's using it. Oh, he's a sober horse thief.

I guess you can't stop doing what he does. And, you know, I know coming Alcoholics or gamblers, how's up gambling? But they're sober. And I met, you know, aging hippies. Like, I feel like an aging hippie with his beard. And I, I have the most romantic life. I live a wonderful life. And every day I have to remember because every day I'll grumble and I'll complain about this, that and the other. My leg is going to sleep. It's OK. And I'll complain about everything,

but I have to remember all the time. And I've got a list of resentments in my head that will take me back an elephant and memory for insults and side swept. But I have to remember that those can kill me.

I had a story, a guy called Clancy and probably heard his tape. So an extraordinary man. I was in a meeting in Pacific Palisades last year, and Clancy runs the Mission downtown Los Angeles for all the down and outs of the Alcoholics on the streets, and their average is maybe 10% survival. Most of them die.

How tight does this amazing job with them? And he's now a colleague himself. He's not calling himself. And he was sober and I tried 19 years trying to get sober. And the most amazing guy, and he and Chuck were very close friends. But I remember him saying we had a meeting one morning,