The South Coast speaker meeting in Laguna Beach, CA

Please join me in giving a warm Laguna Beach welcome to tonight's speaker, Frank from Sherman Oaks.

I'm Frank Jones. I'm an alcoholic,

want to thank Jim for asking me to come and speak here at your meeting. And then he splits so he don't have to take the heat.

So I want to thank Andy for allowing me to participate here since he's the acting secretary. I'm sitting there in that front seat and I'm worried. I don't know when Tommy's oxygen bottle is going to run out.

Just it just keeps puffing and shit. I don't know. It's

everybody. Keep an eye on if he goes down, somebody get up and give him mouth to mouth

because I'm not going to

always get a always get a kick out of this meeting when I come here and speak. And they always ask for the newcomers and I don't know why. All you got to do is look in the back. They're all standing back there wearing hats. So hell, they're easy to pick out. And we're like men who have lost their shoes. We never get new ones.

No I didn't. What it says it's late. You keep working the steps and going to meetings and listening to your sponsor. You'll be able to afford shoes.

So will you, Herbie.

Well, it's just good to be here. And before the meeting tonight, I got to have dinner with one of the guys I sponsor and two of his friends. And if you just look at him, you'll know what I was doing. I was sitting in the booth trying to look like they just moved in on me and I didn't know who they were.

It's God damn sad, I'll tell you that.

When I started sponsoring Victoria I had jet black hair

and I've sponsored him about four years. This is what's happened.

Just a heartache.

I love Alcoholics Anonymous and it's the only place I have ever found. It keeps my head quiet and calms my stomach and allows me to live outside these rooms relatively comfortable most of the time. And when I got here, I didn't think that Alcoholics Anonymous was for me. I didn't care about the 12 steps. The traditions really didn't interest me and I thought a sponsor was Pepsi Cola, Budweiser or Marlboro.

I had no clue what that was and what a sponsor was and I sat in the back and I didn't pay attention and I did it my way.

And I'm glad I stuck around long enough to find out that the more effort I put into Alcoholics Anonymous, the better my life got. And the better my life got, the quieter my head got. So I'm glad I stuck around and found that out. I was born in Danville, IL. I had great parents that married each other 50 years. That's not why I'm an alcoholic.

I did all the things that kids like doing in the Midwest. I played a Little League, baseball and Pony League. I played football, basketball and run track. 19 varsity letters in high school, had a scholarship to go play basketball at a university. And that's not why I'm an alcoholic. I come into Alcoholics Anonymous and I finally did that inventory, read it to my sponsor, talked about my defects of character and my shortcomings. And I found out some things about me growing up that I didn't analyze or think about. I don't analyze my childhood.

I'm not searching for my inner child. If I ever find that little sob I'll choke his ass out.

He needs to stay hid and

but I found out growing up, I lied all the time. I cheated and I stole all the time because my parents never taught me. That's just easier to do that. I mean, when you're a liar, you can be anything you want to be. I've been an airline pilot, cross country truck driver.

You know, I've I've been a dentist, I've been a gynecologist. I've

whatever the hell suited me in the bar I was and when you tell the truth, it's just there and you can't change it. And I cheated all the time because I never wanted to work hard and earn anything. I'm lazy. Give me limbic and I have let me borrow do for me. Help me out. I need a house and that's my parents never taught me that and

and I just stole all the time because it's easier to steal and is to stand in line and pay for something and when you leave the story, you got the money and the item, you're a double winner. I like that. And those things didn't make me an alcoholic. I wanted to be a macho guy and I wore glasses. I was skinny and afraid of the dark and that didn't make me an alcoholic. First time I drank was at a party in Danville. It was a hot summer night and all the guys from Ball team were there and we were having a big party with our girlfriends and my girlfriend brought me over big iced tea glass with slow gin and seven up in it. And

I didn't know what Slo Jen was, never heard of it. And it was red and had ice in it and it looked like strawberry kool-aid And I took a little taste of it and that's what it tasted like to me and I love strawberry kool-aid. And so I chugged lugged it down. Nothing happened. I asked my girlfriend to get me another one. She brought another one and I drank that one down. Nothing happened. I didn't throw on a wrinkle trench coat and put a bottle of wine in a paper bag and shoot the Skid Row.

I didn't talk to the high school counselor said hey, how do I become an alcoholic? I want to drive my ass down to Laguna Beach someday

so I can speak down there. And I wasn't drinking for the taste of the effect of what alcohol was doing to me or for me. I was drinking for one reason and one reason only. All my buddies at the party were drinking and I wanted to fit in with my buddies. I wanted to be a part of that brother in the fraternity, guys that hung together and did stuff together. And I was drinking 'cause they were drinking. And I drank almost a gallon of slo gin and about 30-40 minutes and it was no big deal. Nothing happened.

About 20 minutes after I drank the last glass, though, I found out where Slow Gin got its name.

I got drunk as hell, went into a blackout. They drugged me home that night, dumped me off, and when I come to the next morning I'm sicker than a dog, my heads pounding, I'm puking everything up. I had eaten drink that night and I'm sick and I had no recollection of how I got home that night. I didn't know what a blackout was, never heard of it, and come into Alcoholics Anonymous. The old timers told me for me a blackouts when I drink alcohol I'll still go out and do whatever it is I'm going to do that night and the next morning I'll have amnesia either about all or parts of that night.

They said that's an indication I had a problem drinking and that cleared it up for me right there. I missed 3 days of school with a terrible hangover. Went back to school and the guys told me about that night. They said I was dancing, laughing and funny and some guy said something and I got to punch him. And when they told me about that night what I felt was a part of the guys I felt like I'd fit in and had a great time. I didn't remember any of it but sounded cool to me. I had a great time and I didn't turn into a blazing alcoholic after that and get the shakes and study all when I didn't drink. I drank when I could get it. When

drank, I got drunk. When I got drunk, I got in fights because that's what men do and I wanted to be a man. And I started getting in trouble two weeks before I'm supposed to graduate from high school. I have a scholarship to go play ball. And I got a committee now that talks to me. My committee told me, says what if you go to that college, Frank, and you don't make the team or get grades good enough to stay on the team? What that did is scare me. That filled me full of fear. And I didn't know it was fear back then. And I made a keen alcoholic decision. I quit. High school

made sense to me at the time. You don't have to go to college on a scholarship if you don't graduate. So I quit now. I didn't quit because I was full of fear. What my head says is I'm tired of school and I don't want to go anymore. That's what my head tells me.

I don't know what your head tells you when you drink, but when my head tells me something when I drink, I do it

because I believe my head. Two weeks later I'm drinking with the guys and I had another keen alcoholic thought. I'm a macho type guy and I decided to join the Marine Corps. If you're a wimp and a wussy and afraid of the dark, you shouldn't do that.

You should go in the Navy

or he didn't go in the Army, doesn't matter, either one. And I found myself on a train going up to Chicago to get sworn in. And I'm homesick and afraid. And the train ain't moved out of Danville yet. And I, you know, and I'm sitting next to a guy, he's going into Marine Corps and he's got long sideburns and a ducktail haircut and he's wearing one of those macho black leather jackets with zippers and chains on it. And it's, you know, it's a cool dude here and

he's drinking out of a little brown bottle. He asked me if I want some of it. I want to fit with him. And so I tell him, yeah, I'll take some of that. And I chug a lot, two or three big mouthfuls of it. And I don't know how you drink whiskey at the age of 17, but I sprayed that crap all over the seat in front of me. And I, I had whiskey coming out my eyes and my nose was running. I got whiskey coming out my nose. This guy's looking at me like I'm a wimp. And I hate that feeling. And I wiped off my face and I hand him the bottle. And I said, you know, that's pretty good,

he says, You want some more? I said I can't breathe right now.

I drank. All I did is drink to fit in and to be a part of. And I got sworn in in Chicago and they flew us out here to Marine Corps Recruit Depot. And I went through boot camp scared and home sick and I can't tell anybody about that. And I learned to put a facade out there and act like what I thought a man should act like. And I struggled. I got through boot camp and 1962 and in the Cuban crisis happened in October and I'm in the infantry and find myself on a ship going down the coast of California in a convoy to go to war. And I'm afraid and I can't tell anybody about that fear. I'm ashamed of that.

Nothing happens in the in the Caribbean. And we come back to the Panama Canal and go to the Far East. And first night there, we unpack our gear and the guys come up, say, hey, Frank, we're going out in the Ville and get drunk. You want to go with us? The guys asked me to go into Ville. Now, I don't know how many of you guys have been in the Ville, but that even sounds cool. I'm going into Ville tonight. OK. And I said, yeah, I'll go with you. That's great. And I went out in the Ville with the five or six Marines and we bought a Typhoon 5th of sake. And they're passing a bottle of sake around and chugging, lugging it, and they're doing the male bonding act.

Guys do it. They're hugging and shit and headlocking each other, doing knuckle push-ups in the gravel. And they're uron. You know, I like that. You know, that bottle gets to me and I chuggle like three or four big mouthfuls of it. And I don't know how you drank sack at the age of 17. I sprayed that crap all over their shoes and they started laughing and pointing at me and I felt like a Sissy and I hate that feeling. And that bottle come around again and I chug a lug some more and I puked it up and they kept laughing. And I learned something that night in Okinawa. If you're going to be an alcoholic, you can't let

bad bother you. You got to just hang in, you know? And we hung in. I think that's important. And you know, I kept drinking that stuff and I finally held enough sacky down. And I don't know what alcohol did for you, but I'll tell you what alcohol did for me. I held enough sake down and I looked at those five or six Marines I'm drinking with, and I realized something. These guys are punks.

Why am I hanging out with these sissies? You know, I became all I could be when I drank. That's all. And I, I left those guys. I went out drinking on my own,

and I'm in a bar drinking and shooting pool with a Marine from another unit. He said something that evidently offended me, and I hit him in the face with a pool cue. Now I seen it in the movies that look cool, but he's laying there bleeding and they're calling the military police. Now I don't want to go to the bridge. I'm 17 year old. I knew I shouldn't have done that. I feel that guilt and that shame when you're in a lot of trouble and you don't know how you're going to get out of it. I'm afraid. And I run out of that bar down through the alleys in Anoko, and I go in another bar

and order a shooter and a beer, and I drink that down. And I ordered another shooter and drink that down.

And the feeling comes over me that if the MPs walk in, they ain't going to take me alive. That's how I get when I drink. When I drink, I don't care about anything. And I start bragging to the Marine sitting next to me about hitting a guy with a pool cue. And then I look down at the end of the bar and there's a Nissan sitting down there. And I'm a sucker for a pretty face. Women have been able to take me for every dime I've got my entire life. It's just there should be another 12 step program for it. I'm telling you that right now. And that young lady slid up next to me and she asked me to buy her a drink.

I seen the opportunity and so I bought her a drink. And then she started telling me a sad story about how she needed money because her mom needed surgery. And it just broke my heart. And so I gave her some more money and her and I trudged the road of happy destiny to her hooch. And you know, I'd like to stand here and brag to you tonight that she probably still remembers it to this day.

Hell, it was over too quick for me to remember it.

You know that embarrassed me and made me feel like a wimp and I hate that feeling. And when she went to clean up, I stole my money out of her headboard and set her house on fire.

I just,

it just seemed right at the time

and I went back to the base and I passed out at Revelry the next morning. I'm puking up everything I'd eat and drink that night, my heads pounding and I don't remember anything that happened in the Ville. I have no recollection of what went on that night. And I'm in the head throwing up and the guys telling me the MPs are looking through hit the guy and the fear come back and the guilt and that shame and then they told me about a fire in a Ville. You see, my father hadn't raised me to act that way. Him and my mom were married 50 years

and I don't know where those actions came from. I never heard that man raise his voice to my mother,

and I was ashamed of that. And I didn't know how I was going to make that right and how scared. And I found out a secret that morning in Okinawa, I opened up my locker. There's a bottle in there that had a big red dot on it that's called Lock Adama wine. I took that bottle of wine out of that locker and screwed the cap and I chugged, lugged some of it and I didn't puke it up. I drank some more of that wine and went out to formation. By the time that formation was over and I walked back in that barracks, something funny had happened. My headache's all gone my stomach, so I didn't have a hangover. I don't know what that tells you, but what

tells me is if I drink in the morning, I don't have to be sick. I went back to the locker, got the bottle of wine out, poured in canteen cup and started drinking it. 20 minutes later. I'm bragging about hitting that guy with a pool cue. I'm bragging about setting that woman's house on fire. You see, when I'm drinking, I think everything I do is cute. I don't know about you and how you act when you drink, but when I'm drinking I think everything that I do is OK or I wouldn't have done it.

Once my head says it's OK to do, I'm going to go do it. It's that way today.

That's why I have a sponsor. And if I run it by him and he tells me something different, I ain't doing it. But if I make the decision and I don't run it by anybody, I don't care what that decision is, I will go do it. You can't talk me out of it. And when I'm drinking, I don't care about responsibility. I don't, I don't know what kind of drinker you were, but I don't pay my bills on time if I pay them at all. I'm not worried about being faithful to a wife or a girlfriend. I don't care whose life I walk through. I don't care whose life I ruined. When I'm drinking, what I care about is me. I am the mighty I am.

And I became a morning drinker and a daily drink at the age of 17. All my money went on booze and women in the bars. And I thought macho guys fought and so I did. And that's going to keep you away from and you won't know how I feel like a wimp. And I became a fighter. And Marine Corps frowns on that. And I'd made a stripe and they took it away from me. And then they restricted me to the base and then the barracks. And if you'd ever walked up to me over and said, you know what, Frank? Every time you drink, pal, you get in trouble, you need to watch your drink. And I could have looked you dead in the eye and give you reasons why my drinking didn't have

do with the problems I had. It was them. If that guy in the bar hadn't said that to me, I wouldn't hit him with a glass ashtray. Ain't my fault. He needs to learn how to talk to people in public. The duty NCO hadn't said shut up and go hit the rack. I wouldn't have smacked the duty NCO. I'm not stupid. He needs to learn communication skills.

And I blamed everybody and everything for all my problems until I got to Alcoholics Anonymous. I blame my wife, the kids, the job, the boss. I blamed everybody. And the old timers in my Home group when I got here snapped me up and said, you want to see what the problem is, Slim, go look in the mirror.

The 12 steps in that big book are made for you to work, not the people around you. He said your wife don't have to work this program, your kids don't, the boss don't, the police don't. You have to work this program and become different. If you don't, you'll drink again because the Frank Jones that walked into a had to drink to live outside these rooms. So he said if you don't change, you're done. I'm glad I heard that. I ended up getting in a lot of trouble over I perceived the cab drivers had their meters fixed to rip US servicemen off

and I decided to get some of my money back and he decided he didn't want to give it to me. So I beat his face in with a rock and they put me in the Brig and I was in a lot of troubles. 1963 and

March and my dad flew from the States to Okinawa and met with the commanding general. I was in a lot of trouble and he paid for that guy's surgery and paid for his retirement, gave that cab company a lump sum of money. And I just begged the Marine Corps not to throw me out. It's the only thing I knew how to do and I'm 18 year old and it ain't the way it is today in the military. And by by the time some deal was cut to let me out of the bridge, I'd spent 337 days locked up. If you'd have told me it was behind getting money to drink on, I could have looked you dead in the eye and said it ain't got nothing to do.

They let me out of that Brig. They sent me to Camp Lejeune, NC and I went to Illinois on my way down there and met a girl out of high school and married her, took her down to North Carolina with me and she wants me to stay home and be a husband. I'm a bar drinker. I like the intelligent guys and the beautiful women in the bars. Now, I don't know how you guys would get out of the house, but I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd start a fight with that beast and make it look like it's her fault.

And now we're arguing and fighting and cussing and I, I just can't drink in a noisy place.

And I got to get the hell out of there. And I'd leave the house And now I'm in there and I'm in a bar drinking. And some guy, I'd say something, I'd hit him with a bottle and I have to leave that bar. They're calling the Jacksonville police. And I'd go to another bar and I'd sit in there and I'd lock eyes with some honey and guys like me got to be validated because I don't feel like a man. And so we hook up with a woman and trudge off to her place and do it. We got to do. Then I'm laying in her bed sobering up and I'm starting to think

you should never drink and think that's a bad deal that will get you in trouble. And the feelings I'm feeling are the feelings you're going to feel when you're a liar and you're a cheat.

And I can't go home and look at that woman now because I know that it's me. It's not her. So I stopped and have a couple of shots of whiskey and a beer. And what my head says is this a guy thing, man, Say no big deal, guys do that. And I go home and I walk in and she says, where have you been? I hate that question. Now I got to lie to her. I wouldn't be a liar if she hadn't asked that question.

And then we get another cuss fight and I come into Alcoholics Anonymous and I found out my wife's none of my business. It's not my job to tell her what to do. It's not my job to tell her what to cook for dinner or how to clean the house or what to wear. My sponsor told me if you don't like what your wife cooks for for dinner, cook your own dinner and shut up about it. She evidently likes what she cooked. If you don't like how the house looks and it ain't clean enough, clean the damn house yourself, but keep your mouth shut about it.

I had to learn an A a how to be a husband. I didn't have a clue. I thought I had to be the boss.

And then I found out that, you know, I needed to treat her the way I wanted to be treated. And I had to respect her if I wanted her to respect me. I had to learn here about relationships because I didn't have a clue. Then we had a kid, and I don't know how to treat kids. I mean, what the Hell's up with them? I mean, they cry, they make messes, they break things, they crap in their diapers. I mean, no human ought to do that. And I would shake her and I'd throw her in a crib and a wife is starting the kids crying, and now she's crying. And I just can't handle that pressure.

Thing that takes away being a bad father is a couple of shots of whiskey and a beer. I come into AA and I found out kids are little people

but that's what they do when they grow up. They make messes, they spill things, they make noise. And my sponsor told me lower your voice in the house. Don't use the language at home in an A a meetings that you used to use in the bars. He said the women and your wife and your kids don't need to hear the F word and that other crap you used to talk. He said that don't make you a man to use that kind of language in front of women and kids. He said it makes you a mental Midget trying to express yourself forcibly.

And he said quit doing it. And I had to learn here how to how to be a husband and a father and Alcoholics Anonymous because I didn't have a clue.

Then I got called into the CEO's office. They issued me a rifle with a telescope on it, live ammunition, and sent me across the ocean to a place called Vietnam. And Vietnam ain't my problem. It's never been my problem. My problem is standing here in the middle of my wardrobe tonight. I'm the problem. I'm a sniper. I'm up at Caisson and County Inn and 6768, and I can't tell anybody about the fear I feel. I'm ashamed of it. And I found out a secret in Vietnam,

151 proof rum. You put that in your canteens, you drink that you are bulletproof and invisible.

And I used to put that stuff in my canteens. And I go out on those patrols and I do the things I thought I had to do to impress the other Marines and show them how tough I was. And I did a lot of bad things to a lot of people. And I'm not proud of that. That's where alcohol allows me to go. I don't know where alcohol allows you to go.

And I come into Alcoholics Anonymous and what I found out is I can't change those things. I can't undo my past. It's there. What I can do today is try not to treat people the way I used to treat them. Try not to act the way I used to act. And I'm not always successful at that. I know you can't tell. I'm still intense, but I am

and I'm not a wonderful human being. I hear old timer stand at these podiums and I hear him talk and I holy shit, you got to be kidding me. They're floating with God hand in hand. They're about 8 inches off the ground. And I, I've never seen anybody levitate till I came to AA. I got to tell you, I'm a human being. I hear him say I'm I'm a completely different person than when I came to AA

and I think, what the hell? Did you have a sex change operation? They did a great job, man. Damn. I am exactly the same person that walked in Alcoholics Anonymous a little over 29 years and eight months ago. I am that person. If you scratch a scab off of me, I'll bleed on you. You're not going to believe this because you think everybody in a gets wonderful. I still have lust, greed, sloth. I have all that crap. I have all those things.

They're still there. I feel them today. I don't act on those things. I don't let them overrule my life

to where when I leave a meeting or I'm in a meeting, I allow those things to dictate how I act or how I treat people. But I am exactly that same person that walked in here. I don't kid myself. My sponsor told me you're never going to rise above human. He says you don't have to be what your Home group wants you to be. You have to find out who you are and what you are and start working on changing that. He says you can't change something if you don't know what it is. And he said if you put a facade up there and you're a phony, you can't change a phony. A phony is going to be phony.

I had to find out who Frank Jones was. He told me, though. He says you're an asshole and he says you have a lot to work on. And I take that to heart. I'm, I don't kid nobody. I make a lot of amends to a lot of people,

and I'm not a good husband or a good father, a good man, because I'm over 29 years sober.

I'm a better husband, father and man today than I was 29 years ago. And tomorrow maybe I'll be a little bit better than I am today. But I've learned this progress, not perfection and Alcoholics Anonymous, it allows me to live comfortably with that and to change a little bit every day. I ended up getting blown up over during the Seiji caisson. I got wounded. I come back to the States and

you know, I get out of the hospital, I go home and my wife wants my attention. And we've had a son born to us while I was there and my daughters growing up. And you know, and that's a lot of pressure. I'm a veteran for Christ sakes. And her and I are having a cusified. I've been home less than 48 hours and we're both drinking and yelling and screaming and cussing at each other. And I finally said, shut up or I'll kill you.

And she don't believe me. And I walked in the closet and I got the gun out. I had left home with her. And I walked back in that kitchen. I said, if you don't shut up, I'll kill you. And she didn't shut up. And when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous, I didn't believe in God. I had done too many bad things to too many people. The old timer said there's always been a higher power in your life. And when I look back today, I see that. And I know that's a fact. But you see my daughter standing between my legs pulling on me, telling me, don't shoot her mommy. And I'm trying to get the safety off that gun and it's rusted and

at the base of the receiver. I pushed the pan and it's a firing pin and a gun went off and the bullet went through my hand and down between my legs where my daughter was standing. And that bullet didn't hit that little girl that day. You see, I'm a blessed man for that. I could accidentally shot and killed my daughter because my wife ain't doing what I'm telling her to do because I'm the boss. That's where alcohol takes me. I don't know where it takes you, but that's where alcohol lets me go. Shortly after that, she divorced me. I couldn't believe it.

I mean,

fired one shot, I shot myself.

I don't know what alcohol tells you, but alcohol tells me when I'm drinking it that I'm a good husband.

Alcohol tells me when I'm drinking that I'm a good father. Alcohol tells me that everything I do is OK because I'm doing it. I don't know what alcohol tells you. That's what alcohol tells me. And I drank over her taking my kids for a long time. Bitch,

I was a drill instructor in San Diego and

haze the recruits. I fought in the bars down there and started to carry a gun and I got crazier in hell. Then I had a keen alcoholic thought. After about 2 1/2 years down there on the drill field, I decided to go back to Vietnam. I went back to Vietnam for a second tour. I was in the infantry this time and I just repeated my bad actions from the first time and again, alcohol saved my sanity. I ended up getting shot up in an ambush. Over this time. I come back to the states. I've been in a Marine Corps 11 years. Marine Corps wants me to come back. Afternoon Chao. I can't do that. I got

now because there's demons. I know they're out there. And so I when my enlistment was up, after 11 years active duty, I got out of the Marine Corps and I became a police officer here in Southern California.

That ain't funny. I will Jack you up, dude. I will Jack your ass up.

How do you like me now

and put your cell phones away and don't text her, I will break them.

I was a police officer here in Southern California. I can't tell my partner the in a police car that there's demons in the alleys and I'm afraid of the dark. And so before I go to work, I drink. Drinking takes the fear away. I'm not afraid of anything when I'm drinking. Now, on the other side of that coin, if you scare me, I get violent. And I was a violent police officer in the city I worked in. I'm not proud of that. And because of AAI get to go into the institutions and speak in there. And I make my amends and I tell them what Alcoholics Anonymous is done for me and what it can do for them if they put the effort into it.

And it allows me to make those amends. I got married again and we had a kid and my wife got pregnant and I still don't feel like a man. And so I started to have an affair with my partner. And I have a female partner now. And doesn't matter to me what your preference is. Mine's female. And so her and I are having an affair. And she found out that I got my wife pregnant. She took offense to that.

She shot me and

that's you got no goddamn shoes and you think that's funny?

Oh, no. Yeah, she shot me in the head, dude.

All right, all you guys that want to date women in this group, look around, see which one of them are laughing. Because if they think it's funny that I got shot, you mess with them, they'll put a cap in your ass. Don't kid yourself. I'm going to tell you that right now. So you better look to see who's laughing.

I'm only passing on wisdom.

She shot me in the head and I thought rather than get gunned down in a police car, I'd resign. And so I left the Police Department, got a real estate license.

If you think money, property, prestige, you'll fix alcoholism if you're an alcoholic of my type. Money doesn't fix anything. Allows you to do it in a better environment. Because I made a ton of money in real estate. I bought 2 new Cadillacs, paid cash, put a house on 1/4 acre of the swimming pool and three old putting green. My kids wore designer clothes. I had diamond pinky rings and gold chains and shit. I I had a lot of club starter kit for him. Knew what a was,

I just never stooped so low as to wear an earring, though. I never did that.

Oh, now if you're wearing an earring and you're a guy, don't come up to me at the end of the meeting and say I'm wearing an earring. I don't give a shit.

I don't care what you have pierced or where, OK? If you were a real man on Mother's Day or birthday or Christmas, you would give it back to them so they would have a match set again. OK,

but don't come up and show me. I don't care. But money didn't fix it for me, I'm going to tell you. And at the age of 36 years old, I stood there and looked around one day and everything I'd worked all my life to get was gone. My wife and kids, the job, the car, the clothes, the jewelry, everything I owned was in a cardboard box in the back seat of a stolen car. And that's a hell of a note for former police officer. I ended up homeless on the streets and I got very sick and started passing a lot of blood when I went to the bathroom. And

one day a woman I had worked real estate with seeing me on the streets and she picked me up, took me to her house, cleaned me up and took me to a doctor. And I don't know why, I have no no idea why she did that. And they gave me a physical and they let me go and I went back out on the streets doing what I do. And when they got the results in, she found me again and took me back to that doctor. And I sit in his office and he looked at me and he said, Mr. Jones, you're addicted to alcohol the way our heroin addict just to heroin. If you don't stop drinking, you're going to die.

He says. You have cirrhosis of the liver and a hole in your throat from vomiting all the time. And if you don't stop drinking, you're done. And when he told me that, what flooded over me was relief

because I'm tired. It's not easy ruining your life and everybody's life around you. I was exhausted. And I stood up and shook his hand and thanked him. I said thanks, man, I appreciate it. And I left his office and the money they gave me to eat lunch on that day, I went and bought a fifth of whiskey and a case of beer. And I drank as hard and as fast as I couldn't. To make a Long story short, my parents found out I was dying on the streets out in Simi Valley and they had me committed.

They had me strapped down in this hospital in four point restraints and once they strap you down, you ain't getting out. I tried, it just doesn't work.

You just get all tired and stuff. And

they pumped me full of vitamin B and magnesium to help it to withdrawals and some of my remember and some of them I don't. And at the end of about 9 or 10 days and strapped me from that bed and put me in a van and took me to a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. And there's a bunch of losers there like you people.

You haven't changed in over 29 years. You're still the same, doing all the same crap you were doing tonight. And that I witnessed in here before the meeting. Everybody's hugging each other. And how are you Good to see you shaking hands. And, you know, all the ladies, her hair looks nice and their makeup's on. And the guys are clean and they look good. And what I did is immediately judged you. And I know nobody here judges, so it's OK. But I realize that you couldn't have done the things I had done and in Vietnam and been homeless and abused

lives and four kids and done all the stuff I had done and look as good as you guys look. And what you do is, you said, Frank, why don't you get a cup of coffee, shut your mouth and sit down. And I thought, I'll rip your throat out. Don't talk to me that way. You said, now there's too many of us. Why don't you rip a seat and shut up? Why don't you go to 90 meetings in 90 days? Why don't you go to a A If you want a drink, go to a A Have respect for Alcoholics Anonymous. Put your butt in the chair and listen.

And I heard that over and over and over. And I left that meeting and I hated you.

And I had to come back the next day. And I walked into the meeting and I realized I had misjudged. None of you people had made the money I had made. You didn't have the car, the jewelry, the clothes, the women, the houses, the rental properties. You didn't have any of that crap. You're a bunch of losers. And you guys looked at me and said, Frank, you ain't got any of that shit now you're homeless. Get your coffee. Shut up and sit down. Go to 90 meetings in 90 days. Go to a A if you want to take a drink. And I got to tell you, if you're an alcoholic of my type,

what happened to me might happen to you if you don't plug into this thing called alcohol. It's anonymous.

If you don't get yourself a sponsor,

don't get somebody that you can talk to about your issues. That is treatment center psycho Babble. You ain't got any issues, OK, I'm just right now you may have an issue with me. You know it'll pass. I guarantee it. Every four or five seconds you'll have an issue. We'll go home and write about it. Now that's another thing that makes me crazy in a a That's a bunch of crap. And anybody that tells you to go right about how you feel,

tell them to show you in the big book where it says that.

What it says in that big book is write a fearless and thorough moral inventory. What it says in that big book is to make a list of people you had harmed and become willing to make amends to all of them. It don't say right about how you feel. Nobody gives a shit how you feel. Get a commitment. Get busy in AA and give something back rather than sucking the life out of the meeting and leaving. Instead of coming in here being cute for the women or mooching money or a job, do something in a a help. Pick up, clean up,