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.