The 22nd Annual Family South Bay Roundup in Torrance, CA

Thank you. Good evening, everybody. My name is Harvey Jason and I am a very grateful alcoholic.
Thank God for my sobriety today and the chance to live in a decent way. I thank God for the gift of life. Thank God for the gift of this life. And I thank God for bringing me to you and for giving you all to me and showing me what the promise of a beautiful life can be.
I want to especially thank the amazing Dave Barge, wherever he may be. He's everywhere. So I don't know where he is at this particular moment, but I want to thank him for everything. He is an absolutely amazing and unbelievable man and and a perfect example of Alcoholics Anonymous at its best. Thank you for the great honour of inviting me here to share with you, Dave.
Thank you. Thank you.
I also want to thank my host for his warmth and generosity. Al, it's it's a pleasure and I thank you. I'm sorry you never got to show me around LA, which I really wanted, but he refused.
But thank you. Thank you anyway. I want to thank Chris and in fact the entire committee for their hospitality and their generosity and all the gifts. I love swag. I love T-shirts, you know, I love coffee mugs. I love it all. And thank you very much, Chris. I tell you what I am. I am so grateful. It used to be I was only appreciative and grateful
for the big things. You know, if it was big, if it was a major importance to me,
it made me happy. I realize now in retrospect, it wasn't happiness I experienced so much as self gratification. That's what it was. Today I find more and more it's the small things. It's the little things that give me such such happiness, such joy. These clothes have never seen vomit.
That's. Yeah. They say there are no big deals. I mean, this is a big deal. I know. I know exactly where I parked my car. I could find it at a moments notice. I know where I spent the night. I remember everything. I was able several times in the last few days to navigate myself without help down the hall,
and through my acute mathematical powers I was able to ascertain as the numbers went up
where my room would be.
I am so appreciative of these things because it wasn't always like that. It really wasn't, you know, I don't know
when the world stopped revolving around me, but I believe honestly, it happened when I was brought by God into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. One of the first directives or suggestions that I was given when I came in was that the guy said to me, he said, listen, Harvey
is forget about yourself. Absolutely forget about yourself. Put yourself on the back burner. You're so self obsessed. All you think about is yourself. Forget it, think about other people. And it seemed following that it seemed that just the bat of an eye when the next person said to me, listen, I want you to come to this meeting, get on the podium and for 45 minutes talk about yourself.
And I thought, I really don't know this when I got into here. It all seems so ironic and so and actually
it's puts me in mind of a story which I'm going to share with you, which I particularly like about a guy who who goes to Dodger Stadium and he walks in the stadium and it's packed. There are 45,000 people all taking their seats. And the guy looks around, he finds his seat, he starts to sit down and suddenly he hears a booming voice, Larry, Larry, Larry. And he looks around and it's impossible to see start to sit down again. Again he hears Larry. Larry
gets up again and he looks and he looks the cells that bleaches. Nothing sits down again, Larry, this goes on 3456 times and he's getting very, very annoyed and very, very frustrated. Finally sitting down the 9th time, here's Larry like he gets up, he stretches his arms to the heavens. He says, for God's sake, my name is not Larry.
This is,
this is an autobiographical story. This is the story of my life.
You know, I, I say that, that I am a grateful alcoholic and my gratitude is quite literally boundless. But the very first time I heard somebody get up to a podium who was a woman and say I'm a grateful alcoholic, I thought the woman was hideously deranged.
I couldn't understand why anybody would be grateful to be an alcoholic. Now it's quite the opposite.
If I were not an alcoholic, I would be deprived of the most rewarding life, the most rewarding spiritual life it's possible to imagine. I have been given a life through the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous that I could never have even conceived in my wildest fantasies, dreams, hopes or expectations.
And so much of that is due, of course, to the 12 steps of working the steps as well as I can
and sponsoring people and being sponsored. But so much of it is due to the warmth and the embrace of all of you. I didn't know people like you existed. I really didn't. And this weekend, this is my very first time at a roundup. It's my very first time here. And just the exuberance, you know, the, the wonderful embrace of everybody everywhere you go, from the the bathrooms to the halls to the banquet halls, Arms are out, hugs are waiting, you know, smiles are there. And I am such
creature of habit that it dawned on me, there's an inherent danger here. There's a built in problem. I am so reflexive that I thought, well, supposing I take it all to heart and then the next time I'm in LA at home and have to go to a public men's room and put out my arms
and smile at the guy at the next urinal,
I'm in relatively big trouble. So I have to, I have to watch that.
But I do learn from each and every one of you. I have been given such love. There are people here that I haven't known for all that long, and yet I would be hard put to imagine life without, you know, people like like Andy Alcoholic and people like Rocky and people like Dave Barge and people like Jerry Summers. The courage and the bravery of these men, they exemplify the very, very best of humankind.
I will tell you now in a general way what I used to be like
and what happened to what I am like now and what
I intend to be like hopefully for the rest of my days on planet Earth and beyond.
I didn't, I didn't come to to alcohol until quite late in my life actually, but I'll start at the beginning. I was, it's a fitting by the way, that I'm here on the 4th of July, the 4th of July. Independence Day strikes a chord with me, which is why it really does. I was terribly moved the opening night at the color guard of the Marines. And whenever, in truth, whenever I hear the Star Spangled Banner,
America is beautiful, I get I get goosebumps. And Michael sang it so beautifully the other day. You see, I'm from England and in England on the 4th of July, they taught us that we won the war. So it's a little bit difficult.
Well, this is ironic too. Never. I see a glass at a meeting of Alcoholics. And I would say myself, you know, brings to mind an optimist is someone who sees the glass as half full, and the pessimist is someone who sees the glass is half empty and the alcoholic sees the glass as completely redundant.
I, I was born in London, England during the Second World War.
Seems like prehistoric times at this point. You know, somebody actually said to me, I had the fortune, good fortune, shared a meeting a couple of months ago and I said that and afterwards somebody said the Second World War. Wow. Was that after the Civil War?
Another, another illustrious example, another illustrious graduate of our superb educational system? It's amazing, isn't it? Isn't it
so? I was born during the war and I
actually our house in London was destroyed by AV2 rocket. And for those of you who may not know, this V2 rocket business was designed by a German scientist called Wernher von Braun. And Wernher von Braun wrote a book about his experiences, biography, autobiography and it was called I Aim at the Stars. And I have always thought that it needed a subtitle and I had always thought it should be called I Aim at the Stars. But sometimes I hit London
anyway. Our our house got bombed. Which is not why I became an alcoholic. I, I was, I was, I was an infant. I survived. I think
I was born to a wonderful parents and grew up in an observant Jewish Home, very enlightened home. I'm an only child, terribly close with my parents, a mother who adored me
and whom I adored, and I know that most of us hear all of us. I dare say no, that alcoholism knows no bounds, knows no social parameters, economic lines, knows no nationality, no religions, no races, both sexes. And so it is not imperative to have had an abused or deprived or difficult or tragic childhood. And my childhood was so beautiful in in every way that it was totally idyllic,
really idyllic. And everything good that I learned, my mother tried to impart to me. I was a difficult student, I suppose, because I didn't absorb everything, or I should say I absorbed it, but I didn't put things into practice. But my mother instilled in me a love of the arts and a love of poetry. And what strikes me in retrospect these days, and my mother, bless her, has been gone now for 28 years, is that so many of the expressions with which I grew up that I learned from her
are platitudes that we know here. She said one day at a time, she loved the serenity prayer. To thine own self be true was a favorite of hers. And most of us today don't realise that that particular line from Shakespeare is followed by another line and it runs to thine own self, be true. Thou canst not then be false to any man. And I subscribe to that. I was for most of my life such a liar
and such a cheat and such a fraud,
such a true pretentious
piece of rubbish.
And I was forced not only to myself, but to other people. And I not only lied with abandoned and with relish 'cause I love lying. It just made, yeah, I, I was really good at lying, you know, and I, I just loved it.
But I believe my own lies, you know, that's, that's another danger to all of that, to being the kind of person that I was.
I grew up and when I was in 2-3 years old, all the children in England, in London I should say, had to be moved out of the city to the country because of the bombing, the heavy, the heavy bombing raids.
And, and so I was moved to boarding school. And in fact it was a, it was a boarding school that heretofore had been an all girls school. And I was save your laughter, please. I was in the first shipment of boys to go there. There were only four or five of us. I think there were five boys, little boys. I was like 3 years old and I have
the three memories that are so vivid and this the 1st, I'll go back because the first of these memories and I think through my four step, they all bear relevance on what has happened to me today. The first of these memories occurred
at my very earliest recollection and I was about 18 months old and I was in the bathroom of our house in London. And my mother had just given me a bath. And there was a rocking chair in the bathroom and she had me wrapped in a big warm, fluffy towel and I was on her lap
and her arms were around me
and I felt so protected and so loved
and so cherished and so safe. And today I can feel her arms around me. I can feel the humidity and the warmth in that bathroom. It is a very, very vivid memory. And to me it is a treasured 1. The second one of these three memories occurred when I was about, I think it was my 4th birthday and my parents gave me a party and all the kids came, you know, and they were all little boys
is all well behaved little bastards really. But they all came, you know, and they all shook hands and little girls, the little curtsies, you know, this was another age, ladies and gentlemen and, and it gave me presents and I thought I was the star of the show, you know, I really felt very, very important. And the third of these memories occurred at this boarding school. And since I was one of these five little boys and I was no more than five years old, younger really.
And they're all bunk beds, dormitories style, you know, and all the girls, and during the night,
all the girls would Take Me Out of my bed and they'd pass me from girl to girl and they'd cuddle me and touch me. And this is a fantasy I've been chasing for years.
It's in truth,
but but but these three memories, you see mean to me that there was a sense that I was entitled to be loved. I had a sense of entitlement and love was crucial to me. So when I grew older and got into my teens and realized that I wasn't handsome and I wasn't tall and I wasn't athletic, in spite of the fact I had a good deal of hair at that point,
didn't mean anything. But I wasn't all of these things. And I needed that love. I wanted that love. I would thrive on that love. So I had to devise for myself. And again, all of this is a retrospective analysis, of course, but I had to do something, be someone to get you all to love me. I didn't care about being admired. I didn't care about being respected. I wanted adoration.
And So what that compelled me to do was to be a different person with each of you.
So I hadn't successfully. I had no true identity of my own. I'd be with somebody and I knew what instinctively what I was supposed to be with them. And I'd do that. I'd be serious with one person. I'd be funny with another person. And after a while, after many, many years of this, it occurred to me one day I didn't know who I was. I was a comedian, which is the nice way of saying that I was an abject fraud
and that's not a nice place to be
at age 19. My mother had encouraged my independence and I left home at 17 and I got to knew I was in New York at age 19. Now at this point and I was pursuing a career which had already been defined for he predicated on the fact that I needed to be adored by lots and lots of strangers. It doesn't make a lot of sense. That is the way I am. That is the way I was. So I'm in New York.
I'm living with a woman who's a few years older than I am. And this to me, is how alcoholism works. I had not yet
begun my misadventures with booze. Didn't happen actually really late. I mean, I didn't start drinking alcoholically until I was in my 20s. But I was an alcoholic, and I suffered from advanced alcoholism.
And when I was in New York, it occurred to me in a moment of terrific clarity, this was at the time when Fidel Castro in Cuba was leaving Oriente Province and he was going to take over the country. And I knew with assurance, absolute certainty, that he needed my help.
This is not a joke. This is not a fantasy. I was convinced that Fidel Castro needed me.
He needed Harvey Jason to make this political adventure work. Now
I decided, and I said to my girlfriend, we've got to get down. We'll hitchhike. We have no money. We'll get down to Key West and we will take a banana boat and we will get to Cuba and then we will go up into the hills of Oriente Province where they'll be waiting for me and I will get on my horse. I didn't know how to ride or anything. I will get on my horse and Fidel Castro, his brother Rael, Che Guevara and Harvey Jason,
we'll ride down through the streets of Havana and people will throw garlands of flowers and we'll take over the country. Now, in truth, I know nothing about Cuban history. I don't speak Spanish. I don't really like Cuban food,
but I was absolutely convinced that this was crucial for me to do crucial. And we hitchhiked down, down to Florida. And by the time we got to, we got down there to Key West, all the banana boats, all the boats had closed. We were not allowed to get there. So we're stuck in Key West, FL, No food, no money. I did the only sensible thing. I helped my girlfriend look for a job
and
I got her a job and, and then we, we, we stayed there for a while and, and I wasn't comfortable and I thought my, my political career was in shambles. There was nothing about me in the papers. It was a catastrophe as far as I was concerned. And ultimately, we hitchhiked back to New York.
Shortly thereafter I I got married. Another misadventure, but,
and I've since stopped believing, I don't believe any longer in love at first sight. To me, you know what? I think love at first sight is simply a side effect of serious drinking.
Anyway, I, I got married to this lady and she really had she, it was a terrible thing for her to have married me. She was very beautiful and she was also English and she was very sexy and she was very socially well connected, very wealthy. And as far as I was concerned at that time, she didn't have a brain in her head. It's a matter of fact, she was an extremely brilliant woman. It was me that didn't have a brain in my head the last time.
It was a quick marriage, it was a couple of years, and that was it. As a matter of fact, the last image she had of me, the very last time she ever laid eyes on me, was when I was in a drunken collapse between the cases, the luggage place at JFK in New York. And in fact, I can still see her looking down at me
with a look of intense disgust.
And that was a look with which I have become intimately familiar over the years. But I, I remember that. I'll tell you something else. When I, she was a terrifying woman, because before I met her, when I first met her, I thought she was really tough, you know, really proper, very proper English word, you know, it wasn't until we got to know each other and so forth, I realized she was very sensitive and she was very innocent. And that was just a protection. She was insecure. Well, when I
was going to make amends,
this was the one that I really was terrified to do. And I did not know where she was. She had been involved as a ballet teacher in one of the big ballet companies in Europe. And I didn't know where she was. And I tried to locate her and couldn't do so. Excuse me. My younger son, who is much more proficient at the computer than I am, got on the computer. And through a couple of lengthy processes, he was able to track her down, which was not really what I wanted because I was, you know, I was really scared.
And so I, I got by myself. I collected what few thoughts remained in my head and I dialed the number and my heart was pounding and there was no answer. So I was off the hook. So I waited a bit. And then I I dialed again sometime later and the phone was picked up and there was this voice,
stern and ice cold, but exactly the same as I remembered, but older.
And she picked up the phone and I hear hello.
And it took me a second and I said,
Helen,
She said, yes, who is this? And I said, well, actually, I said, Helen, it's nice to hear your voice, and who is this? I said, I had some funny thing. It's been a very long time. I said this is really a voice from the past.
You don't really sort of have any idea who this is.
It's been years, you know? And then she got angry. She said, look, who is this? Tell me who it is. I'm putting the phone down. I said, well, actually it's Harvey.
And there was a very long pause
and she said 3 words. How utterly bizarre.
So I said, listen, I said, I'll tell you why I'm calling you. I said, I'm at the point of my life where I'm, I'm really trying to clean up some dreadful behaviour of mine. And you know, I said I, I just, I wonder what I can do. I said, I gave you such a dreadful time, such a horrific time. I, I was just so awful. I was a wretched, dreadful husband. And I really, she said, no, no, you weren't. I said no, no, I was, I was dreadful, faithless husband. And there was another long pause. And she said,
What do you mean, faithless?
But you know what? She had such generosity of spirits that she saved me because of the honesty of me. What? I can't hurt her? And she said, no, no, they said, never mind, never mind. She said we were both very young and passionate and so forth. And I thought, what a wonderful, what a wonderful response. What a truly generous reaction to somebody who wants to make amends.
I have since, by the way, remarried and have been married for a very long time. Not long enough. Last November the 29th, it was 35 years.
And my darling Pamela, my love with all my heart, has given me two gorgeous sons, now adults 30 and 34, and she stayed with me all of this time. And she's a devoted member of Al Anon, which I love.
You can only imagine what I've put up with all these years.
In fact, I went to my very first Al Anon meeting today and and got a great deal out of it. Really a great deal out of it. I went to the Alanon luncheon and I'm most appreciative. I think that Al Anon is a lifesaving program. It's an absolutely another miraculous way of life and I know for sure that
that my life would be totally different if my wife hadn't gone to Al Anon with my sons. In fact, I knew nothing about Al Anon and my wife many years ago took my two sons to Al Anon. I didn't know what it was and I was out there. And then one day I found out what it was and I came home and I said to her, you know what? I said, oh, you are really gullible. I said, I'll tell you something. I have just found out
where you've been going with the boys and what Al Anon is. You don't even know this, I said. Alan On
is a program for people who have an alcoholic in their family.
We don't have any Alcoholics,
but I sincerely believe this. Well, I say I did. I didn't really. I have to tell the truth or otherwise my wife or hop up. And yeah, he's lying. He's lying. But I, I, I, I love her. I love what Alanon has done selfishly, what Alanon has done for me and the growth that I have seen in my sons and in certainly in, in Pamela. It's, it's wonderful. It's absolutely wonderful. We have a marriage which is
blissful, Blissful.
And it's all predicated on the fact that both of us practice the steps, that both of us practice this way of life, this gloriously fulfilling way of life with each other and in all of our affairs. So here's what happened. I
I drank once in a while and I had no real reason to drink at that point because everything seemed to be going my way.
I had an opportunity to come out to California to do some work, to do a job. And I should preface this by saying that in spite of these outward manifestations of bravado and self-confidence that I managed to to show through the years inside me, I was riddled with fear. I have always had that terrible, terrible combination
for me of insecurity, feelings of inferiority, and grandiosity.
So the worse I feel about myself, the more bravado will I exhibit,
the most fearful I am about making any decisions,
the more outwardly confident I appear to be.
In fact, I realize that because I was, for so many, many, many years, so riddled with feelings of inferiority
and so penetrated so very deeply with fear that I perceived everything differently. I was totally irrational. Now, if I perceive things differently, if a waiter brings me coffee and it's not quite hot enough, I wonder why he hates me so. It's all about me. It's all about me and what I perceive. And I have come to realize
that because I perceive things which are not real,
my responses are going to be predicated on these false beliefs. And because my responses are going to be so irrational, the results of my actions will be awful, Will be awful. But what do I expect? I'm a living lie. I'm walking around living a lie. So I get called out to California to come and do a job
and I'm invited to a dinner party, very important dinner party, which I thought was a dinner party. I was too naive to realise that these things are really invariably they are business affairs. So I go out there and there's a lot of important people at this dinner party. And my host, I love telling jokes. I know thousands of jokes, I love telling jokes. And my host knew this. And I suppose in a way I was invited there also as sort of the the free entertainment. So
sitting there and I'm totally intimidated. I feel this high. I'm, I'm frightened. I want to crawl under the table and I want to run home back to my hotel
and he's looking at me
and I am struck. Literally mute. Mute. I couldn't. I was so fearful I could not make a sound and I tried and nothing, nothing would come out of my mouth.
I was frightened. I wanted to run out of that door and I wanted to destroy myself.
Before I had come to California, some friends of my parents owned a company called Bola Wine, and the guy said to me, when you get out to California, he said, just give me your address, whether the hotel, I'll send you a couple of cases of wine. I said thank you. I went back to my hotel and the wine was there and I thought, my God, I'm just nothing. I'm just so I felt awful. Awful doesn't say it, but I'm sure that you people with your sensitivity know exactly how I felt and what I mean. I went back and I opened up a bottle of wine
and I guzzled that bottle of wine down.
And when I had that first bottle of wine, I thought, you know what? Really and truly, it was only one evening. You know, it wasn't that bad.
And then I opened a second bottle of wine and I guzzled that bottle down faster than the first bottle. And then I thought to myself, you know what? These people were lucky that I went there in the first place.
But you see, then I had my elixir. Then I knew exactly what to do because for me at that point, at that time, that was the truth. That really was the truth. So I thought, OK, well this is quite cool. Now, this was not a conscious decision on my part,
but I knew instinctively and, and what followed was instinctively when I was in a position of difficulty, OK, it wasn't wine, it was vodka. Out came the vodka bottle. Out came the bottles, out came the gallons and the half gallons and so forth. And, and I had my my life's medicine
and I didn't drink every day. In fact, maybe every other day, but I didn't drink every day. I'm not a common drunk, you understand.
I'm worse.
But what I did was I drank for three decades, 30 years, and I drank that booze
until the booze drank me. And while I have heard a couple of magnificent speakers here over the last couple of days, Karen and Ralph,
who have had some really, really tragic occurrences,
my losses were not their losses. And while I didn't lose material things, I still had my house, I still had my wife and my children, still had my work.
But I lost the one thing
which is so very, very crucial and so very, very precious and so very, very vulnerable and easy to lose.
I lost all self respect
and I lost my soul.
I lost my soul,
and so my perception of my world was a dark one.
It was dark and it was pessimistic
and it was morose,
and while on the outside work was fine, there were times when it wasn't quite so fine. So I drank more during those times.
But I have a study in the back of my house and I would go home
and I would lock myself in the study where I'd hidden all my booze
and I would drink myself into oblivion.
And then I'd managed to come out for dinner. When the boys were growing up, Pamela and the boys would sit at the table
and they never knew who was going to come out of that room.
And to this day
I can see
the look of total disappointment in Pamela's eyes,
and I can look back and with great vivid recollection.
I can see the look of bewilderment in the eyes of my sons, and the look of fear. And I was never at any time physically abusive.
But it's the mouth. It's the mouth. My mother used to say words are like birds. They fly away and you can't take back
what you said today. I would give anything to take back some of the things that my sons have heard me say. I can't do that, of course. So what I can do is what you've taught me to do, to live a living amends, to be the best person I can.
I have done things that to me are absolutely disgusting and reprehensible beyond words. I am. I remain an observant Jew and my Judaism is precious to me. And for me, the essence of Judaism is the same. It's the essence of Alcoholics Anonymous. It's the same 4 words. Do the right thing, do the right thing. And at one point
I was in synagogue
and I was leading the service in Hebrew
and I was reeking of alcohol.
And I stood there when this awareness hit me
with a solid thought that here I am in the House of God
and I'm drunk.
And I left
and I felt so wretched. I felt lower than dirt. I felt so appalling until the next morning. And it didn't stop me. And I kept going and going and going. And, you know,
when one lives with someone else and one drinks,
what I would do, I would, I would have a Bible in the study. And I've always been a book collector. And I have lots of floor to ceiling bookcases and all the books raised to hide my, my bottles, you know, behind the books. And I would come in on a daily basis and Pamela will have pulled out books all over the place looking for bottles, you know,
and, and So what I would do. And I didn't know how to get rid of the empties. You know, it was just,
I would gift wrap them, no
as so many bottles. I would buy gift wrapped paper and brown butcher's paper. I'd throw gifts of empty bottles of vodka on neighbor's lawns, you know, And
there were so, so many, many, many times when I had big packages, you know, and I'd go to the post office and, and, and I would take these big packages. And every time I would try to open the thing and push the packages in. It seemed at each opportunity people were watching me like I was a terrorist sending bombs into the thing, you know? But I used to go to three different liquor shops because God forbid I'd go to the same one and people would think I might have had some sort of a drinking problem.
So I went to one. I always carried a shoulder bag
and in the shoulder bag I would come home with two bottles of Heineken. I don't like beer really, but I have two bottles of Heineken. But in the bag would be like, you know, a quarter vodka, 1/5 of vodka. So I went one of the places was a Thai place, a Thai family owned it. And as one walked in behind the counter were all the liquor bottles and to the right were the freezers with the beer and so forth. And I would go in, I would take get my 2 bottles of Heinekens out of there because I'd say to Pamela, this is, this is all I'm having.
I take the 2 bottles of beer. I put them on the counter. And then the the woman, the Thai woman would come and she'd say that's it. I say, no, wait a minute, what did she want?
And I did this all the time. And then I'd say, what is that? Is that the clear one? That's that one, the big one there. And then I would take that bottle. I put it in my shoulder bag. Then I come home with two bottles of beer and I'd say to Pamela, this is it. And no joke, I promise you there's 2 bottles of beer.
And then I would go into the study and I'd finish like, you know, half a quart before dinner. And then I'd have the beer. So the smell of the beer would stay on my breath. And then I'd come out. Invariably Pamela would say to me, look at you, 2 beers. I mean, you can hardly stand. And I would say in all innocence, you know what, I have no tolerance.
That's just the way it is. I can't, I can't take it anymore, you know. And then I would go to these other two places, the Sambi Market and 1/3 doors down, and they were run by Iranian and Iranian family. And I'd go to one like on a Monday, go to the Thai place on Tuesday, go to the other Iranian place on Wednesday. Well, I did the Iranian thing one day. And then two days later I went back to the other Iranian place. And it seemed to me it was the same Iranian guy from the place two days before.
It took me the longest time to realize it was a family business.
It was the same people in both,
but
but what what ultimately happened was in in the bathroom of the study at home, which used to be a maid's room in bath. I'd no longer needed the bathtub. So I had a, a cabinet maker come over and get beautiful piece of, of work. And he put oak over and he enclosed the tub in this great oak case. One day I'm in the bathroom and I'm thinking to myself, you know, if I could pry up the top of this bathtub,
I would have a perfect place for the empties.
So I waited until Pamela and the boys were out of the house. And then I got out my toolbox. And it took me virtually an hour and a half, as I recall. And I finally got this, this huge oak slab up and I had a virgin bathtub, you know, and I thought, this is absolutely fantastic. I mean, I, I felt I deserved the Pulitzer Prize. I really did
well from then on. Pamela was mystified.
You know, she, the books would all be in disarray. And I'd come in and she'd come into the study and always the same thing.
What is this? And let's say what? What? And she couldn't figure it out. Well, one day I was coming home and I put the key in the front door. Excuse me, to open the lock. And the door opened by itself. And standing there was Pamela and my father, both of them looking very serious.
And I, both of our sons have medical problems.
And I thought something had happened to one of the boys. I said what's the matter? And they both didn't say it, just said come on. And I go, I had no idea I'd go through the house. As we get to the back,
I thought, Oh no,
oh this couldn't possibly be.
And sure enough, we go into the study and into the bathroom.
The top of this tub is up. And in this bathtub are dozens and dozens and dozens and dozens of bottles, quartz and gallons and half gallons of miniatures and pints and fifths and a half almost to the top, bottles and bottles and bottles. And my father very quietly said, what's this?
I mean, what does one say? So I said, you know,
why would the neighbors come over and do something like this to me?
I mean, really
a shocking, shocking thing.
But you know what?
Nothing stopped me and
and I kept drinking and drinking and the world looked really glum to me and I cannot tell you why I drank other than I was so despondent. I was so miserable. I felt useless. And the more I drank, the more useless I in fact was. I just was morbidly, morbidly depressed. I never wanted to get out of bed. I would wake up in the morning. You know that feeling. A lot of you know that feeling.
My mouth pacing of the carpet and my head throbbing, my hands shaking. The shakes, the shakes, the shakes.
And I wanted to pull and did pull the sheets over my head and just stay in bed because everything was bleak.
And it never dawned on me that I'm the one who had made it so bleak. And although I believed in God,
I bargained with God. I chose to use God when God would benefit or could benefit me. I never really, really spiritually connected with God. It was, I'll do this for you if you give me this or I'll be really, I mean, I'll do this. Sometimes I didn't even verbalize it and sometimes I did. I had a Bible in the study and sometimes I would go in there and I'd put my hand on that Bible and I'd say, dear God, I swear I will not drink today.
And I didn't drink that day. And the next day I'd go into the study, I'd walk to the Bible, and I'd say, you know what?
I'm not gonna drink today. I don't have to do this. And I didn't. And of course I would drink. And I drank and I drank. And it seemed like it was just a living hell. And the occupation which I had enabled me to be fortunate enough to really go all over the world and I could see places and have adventures,
a seat that I could never see or go to before. But no matter where it was, you know, whether it was Australia, whether it was Thailand,
wherever it was, the first thing that dawned on me was nothing to do with the place, but oh wow, now I can go and I can drink without Pamela looking over my shoulder. When I wasn't drinking, I was obsessed with drinking, obsessed with it. And I had an opportunity
to work with, well, not even arguably to work with the most famous film director in the world. I'm not saying this to in any way to brag
and it was a great opportunity for me
and although I was excited about it,
it was secondary to the fact that I could go there and I could drink. I didn't want him to see me drinking,
but the booze affected my work performance unquestionably. And the director happened to be what I now know is called an enabler. And so he would say, you know, it's so good that you can feel so comfortable. And you know,
but even then, even then, it was king to me. It was emperor to me. The booze was everything to me. It was all I thought about.
I didn't have any health problems other than shaking and feeling terrible all the time.
And and I would I would wake up, you know, I mean, you know, whether it was the drunk tank or whether it was going through the humiliations of getting a nose positions for the cops that a station house or jail or whether I'd wake up in the I spent many, many nights on the ground or in the garage or behind the wheel. I drive home drunk and I'd park. I wouldn't put the top down and I'd wake up in the morning or come to in the morning.
Pamela would invariably be standing there looking at me
and I'd be slumped over the steering wheel and I'd get the window down and I'd say, you know what? I was so tired, you know, I just, it seemed such an effort to come into the house. I was so comfortable, you know, really here, you know, give me that Al Anon smile and just walk away. I used to sleep with a notebook under my bed in case I had ideas. You know the script.
I was such a master. You know what a an artistic maestro,
but as much talent as this glass.
And I couldn't read my writing. In the morning would come, I'd have great ideas, but in the morning I couldn't read what I had written. And So
what I did was I got a little tape recorder.
So one night I'm dead drunk.
In the middle of the night, I wake up
and I have an absolutely brilliant idea,
a work of genius.
And so as not to disturb Pamela, I take the little tape recorder into the bathroom and I begin to record it. Now this was a Western. I don't like westerns. This was a Western. And this, this script came out fully formed in my head. The structure, the characters, the tension of the piece, it was brilliant. And I went into that bathroom. I, I don't know how long I was in there for. It had to be an hour or 45 minutes. And I dictated the entire script into the tape recorder when I went to bed. I knew
that if I didn't get an Oscar nomination for the script,
at least I was sure to get a Writer's Guild nomination, if not win. I knew it. So in the morning I come to Pamela's, not in bed, and I'm shaking and my head's throbbing and I'm sweating and that putrid smell is coming out of every paw. And I remember, I remember that I had written this. I don't remember anything at all about the script, but I knew I'd written a winner.
I go under the bed. I see the tape recorder. It's all the way at the end. I press the rewind. It goes all the way back to the front. Now I'm ready. I press play and I hear.
I press stop. I press play
this can't beat. I've taken my trophy away and I played it all the way through to the end and did not understand one syllable
and had no idea what this was all about.
Today I have a slight suspicion that it may be the Unforgiven and Clint Eastwood stole it from
one night I had a particularly dreadful drunk. I mean a really appalling drunk, maybe no worse than others. But maybe it was just my time and I woke up in the morning and I was collapsed on the floor of the study and for whatever reason
I thought, this has got to stop. I've had it. I've had my run. It's finished.
It's finished.
And I called
my closest friend in the world was like my brother. He was actually also my agent. And he was a very devoted member of Alcoholics Anonymous. And maybe some of you know him. May he rest in peace. His name was Robert Littman,
and Bobby Lippmann saved hundreds, literally hundreds of people for alcoholism. And he couldn't save himself. He couldn't stay sober. In the end, Bobby died sober, bless him. But I called Bobby and I said, you know, I was writing, I had written another script that sold and they were paying me to write a Polish the script. So I called Bobby
and I said, listen, Bobby, I said since the the studio, since these producers are paying me to, to do a Polish on this script, the
the protagonist of the piece is recovering alcoholic. I never put two and two together. I just wrote about a recovering alcoholic. I said since they're paying me for a Polish, probably what I should do is go to one of your meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous
just to get an idea of the layout of the room and so forth. And I believe this. I believed it. I mean, I wasn't. I believed this. I met Bobby. This was a Friday night, Saturday morning. I met Bobby on Sunday morning
on the corner of Pico and Robertson in Los Angeles.
And he was going to take me to a meeting of the Robertson originals.
And we met on the corner and he hugged me and he said, Harvey, Harvey, he was an Englishman. He said, you don't know how lucky you are not to be an alcoholic like me. And I said, oh, I bet. No, I know,
I said. I can. I can. I can imagine. I can imagine.
And he took me into this long haul
by source podium set up and I saw loads of rows of chairs with keys and things on the chairs.
And I sat down in the seat
and a woman got up at the podium
and she shared
her experience, strength and hope.
And while this woman's experiences were not similar, were not exactly the same as mine, the emotions that she felt and which she so lucidly expressed
were identical, identical to mine.
And before I knew what was happening,
the tears were streaming down my cheeks
and I knew
I was home.
I was home,
and from that day to this,
I was determined to plunge soul thirst into Alcoholics Anonymous
and I got a sponsor
and I got a Home group. I got a big book
and I immersed myself in all the literature. I began on the steps immediately
and I absorbed everything.
Me, with a brain that was not so hot,
was able to absorb and to assimilate what needed to be absorbed and assimilated. And my friends, my life changed. Absolutely, absolutely.
First year I went to meetings all the time. I went to a Tuesday night, which is a mixed meeting, not a stag, a mixed meeting at Roxbury. I know nobody. I didn't know anybody. And I was outside at the front doors and I could hear in, in one of the other rooms of this park building, there was a tap dancing class. And I was out there feeling sorry for myself, standing there and hearing the tap, tap, tap of the tap dancers. And a car came into the parking lot.
And I thought I recognized the woman behind the wheel. And when she got out, it was a woman named Dimitra, who I have known for many, many years from another life, another business.
And I'm listening to these tap dancers and I see Dimitra and I think, my God, of all the people in the world, the least likely person to take tap dancing lessons.
And it was Dimitra who came to the meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.
I then began to go regularly every Wednesday to the men's stag at Roxbury. And I didn't like it. I felt very insecure. Everybody seemed to know each other and I felt very isolated and I felt very out of it. And I felt it was a big clique and I didn't belong there. But I went, you know, and then I stopped going. And then I went and took a cake. And then one night when I was there,
I heard something and I heard a succession of something.
And I thought, my God, in the few weeks since I'd stopped coming, how all these men have changed.
And now I tell you, in truth, I live for Wednesday night, Roxbury. These men are my lifeblood. They are my heart. I learn from the example of these men. It's not what they say, but when I'm caught up in their embrace, their physical embrace as well as their psychological and their spiritual embrace,
the example of these men
can in no way ever, ever, ever be bettered.
OK?
It is an infusion of spirituality and I ingest inspiration every moment I am in that room. I have seen and continue to see men face obstacles before which many of us would collapse with fright.
And they persevere. And there's a smile on their face and there are smiles in their heart. And they only care about helping someone else. They only care about helping someone else. Their mission in life is to be of service to other people, to share what they have with other people. And it's never do this or do this. It's listen to what I here's what I did. Here's what I did. I adore these men. I adore them. They're my mentors. They're my friends,
they're my idols, they're my heroes
and I have learned the beauty of life.
I have a life beyond anything I could have imagined. I wake up in the morning with joy. It's beyond happiness. It's beyond it. I am in a state of ecstasy. I have nothing but rampant enthusiasm for this life, all based upon this life saving program. This program that affords us an existence that would have been impossible to imagine.
And if you're new here tonight,
I can well assure you, you have no idea what can be in store for you. You have no idea. I beg of you to be willing, just to be willing to take the action. I didn't have hope. I'm not big on Akronisms. But one that I was in bed and I suddenly was visualizing the word hope. And I saw HOPE hold only positive energy. I thought, You know what,
that makes sense to me and I know. You see, I get up in the morning, I say my prayers
with relish, I talk to God, I ask him for help. I say some of the prayers in Hebrew and some in English because I believe God is at least bilingual
and I ask for help. I believe. I believe with all my heart because I have been shown the truth. I have been shown what life can be. I know that when I talk to God, that's called prayer. But I hear God talk back to me. That's called schizophrenia.
And at night I talked to God throughout the day. You know, it had been a pipe dream of mine for a long, long time. I thought, you know, some of us have pipe dreams. Even when I was drinking, I thought a wonderful thing it would be to open a really wonderful, really wonderful first editions bookshop. You know, selling signed Hemingway and Faulkner and Steinbeck.
Another gift of sobriety
is that one year into this program, my younger son and I opened that shop.
We opened that shop, the shop that was a pipe dream. And from the outset, and this is not false modesty, very little credit to Louis and I. That shot became instantly successful.
And I think I know why. It's because Louis, being in Al Anon and me being a grateful member of Alcoholics Anonymous, were able to put into effect
the precepts and the concepts and the principles of this program to treat people honestly the way we want to be treated, to be hospitable, to be kind, to be of service. This would never have worked, this endeavor. If I were still out there, I would have robbed these people blind. I would have robbed them blind without a second thought. I would have sold them inferior merchandise. Today, if there is, our books are in great condition. But the slightest flaw
I point out to people,
not because I'm a good guy, but because you have taught me. Because if I do anything dishonest or unethical or immoral,
is that how I'm going to repay God for giving me this life?
It's the same thing for me. I can't imagine picking up another drink. Because you see, what I didn't realize when I was out there is that every time I picked up a bottle, every single time I was spitting in the face of God, I was saying to God, I don't want what you've given me. I want more. I want more, give me more. This isn't good enough
and I can't do that. I won't do that. I don't want to do that. My life depends on my sobriety.
I have it too good. I have it way, way, way too good. I haven't received justice. I have received a high abundance of mercy. That's what I've received. And how can I pay God back for all of these rewards, for all of the goodness that I feel in here? Not the material things, but giving me, most importantly, the one commodity that I assume that I thought was absolutely unattainable to me.
Peace of Mind,
Peace of Mind.
I was always an insomniac.
I couldn't sleep. I'd pass out. I sleep like a baby today. I sleep like a baby. I have Peace of Mind. I've been afforded complete serenity
and it is a glorious, glorious life. And how can I pay God back for these gifts?
Only by being the best Harvey that Harvey can be. Simple life, it's simple. You know what possible reward is better for me today than to look at Pamela and see her look at me with love and with pride, and see my sons look at me with great smiles and call me constantly and want to go on holiday with me and spend time with me. Our little family of four is so close,
is so close. We are inseparable.
I owe it all to Alcoholics Anonymous. I owe it all to people like you in rooms like this. I owe it all to the steps of this program. I owe it all to the glory of God, who in his wisdom and mercy, got me into these rooms. This is something I never, ever would have done by myself. I know there's not a shred of doubt in my mind
that God brought me into these rooms and my purpose is to stay sober
and to help another alcoholic. I have such immense joy in working with people like Paul and Lefty and Stuart and Bruce,
noble men. Men who have come here to support me tonight. Men who share the same joy I do going through these steps. Men who have given me the immense privilege
of allowing me into their lives in the most intimate of ways, and who have endowed me with their trust because they know that I won't let them down.
Now I intend to give them each a few dollars from every CDI sell of their fourth step.
What a joy. What a joy to show people what I've been given, to share it all. Is there a greater joy? I don't think so. I don't think so. I can only say that today, here walks the happiest of men. The very, very happiest of men. I have finally become,
through the grace of God, the man that I know my mother wanted me to become.
The man that would make my father proud. My father did get to see me sober
and I don't think we could believe it actually, because quite often you'd say to me, you mean you haven't had one drink.
Now in terms of the tenure of sobriety in this room, I have very little sobriety. I have 3291 days, Thank God. By the grace of God, today, last Wednesday, I celebrated 9 years of sobriety.
I clap for you because you've given it to me. You know, I they're, they say that that miracles only occur to people who believe in miracles. I'm not so sure that's true, but I do know that each and every one of us here are the recipients of that miracle. There's a story that I like and then I'll sit down. I think my time is up.
There is a story of a guy who who goes a duck hunting and and he he goes there and he got his dog with him and he shoots the duck and the duck falls into the water
and the dog trots over to the water's edge. And then the dog gets on top of the water and walks on the water, picks up the duck in his mouth, walks on the water back and drops the duck. What a guy is bewildered. He can't can't believe it shoots another that the same thing happens. So he says to the guy in extra, listen, you're going to watch, watch this, just watch this, watch this shoots the duck another duck. The dog goes right on top of the water again, walks on the water, comes back on the water, drops the duck.
The man says, did you see? Did you notice? Did you see what just happened? And the friend looks, he says, you know what, I think I did. Your dog can't swim.
Some of us see the miracle, some of us don't.
It really is impossible for me to thank all of you, but please be assured that you have my love and my thanks and will have that eternally. God bless us all. Thank you.