Paramount speakers group in Paramount, CA
Hi
everybody.
My
name
is
Larry
Thomas
and
I'm
an
alcoholic
and
I
want
to
thank
Michael
for
asking
me
to
come
out
here.
And
it's
good
to
see
some
new
people
here.
I
wanted
to
I
want
to
thank
the
10
minute
speaker.
Thought
he
did
a
good
job,
could
have
listened
to
him
all
night.
Fact,
we
damn
near
did
I.
But
I'm
glad
to
be
here.
And
if
you're
new,
I'm
happy
that
I'm
sober.
And
I
know
those
two
words
don't
belong
in
the
same
room.
Being
happy
and
being
sober.
I've
never
been
happy
about
being
sober.
And
coming
to
Alcoholics
Anonymous
the
last
time
didn't
put
on
a
warm
globe
either,
you
know,
because
that
seemed
to
be
my
problem.
I
kept
getting
drunk
and
I
kept
getting
sober.
And
if
you're
new,
my
sponsor
tells
me
that
I'm
living
proof
that
a
man
can
stay
sober
for
close
to
19
years
and
not
amount
to
a
damn
thing.
He
says.
I'm
not
much,
but
I'm
all
I
think
about.
And
I
know
that
there's
a
little
of
that
in
here
tonight,
but
I'm
happy
that
I'm
sober.
And
for
close
to
20
years
I
drank
and
put
chemicals
in
my
system
and
ran
around
crazy,
never
knowing
that
there
was
an
answer,
living
that
nightmare
that
I
wouldn't
die.
And
I
kept
up
Wait.
I
kept
coming
to
and
having
to
start
to
live
that
way
again.
And
now,
for
close
to
19
years,
I've
lived
an
entirely
different
way.
And
I'm
not
afraid
to
wake
up
anymore.
Mondays
don't
scare
me.
I
don't
have
to
look
over
my
shoulder
and
there's
no
pending
doom.
I
don't
have
to
wonder
where
I'm
going
and
who
I'm
with,
and
I
don't
need
people
to
tell
me
how
good
I'm
doing
to
feel
good.
I
I'm
a
member
of
Alcoholic
Anonymous
and
a
member
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
They
teach
you
not
only
not
this
isn't
about
not
drinking.
You
see,
if
you're
new,
I
urge
you
to
get
the
book
Alcoholics
Anonymous
and
read
The
Doctor's
Opinion.
And
if
you're
if
you're
keen,
you'll
find
out
that
it's
in
the
front
of
the
book
and
they
talk
about
alcoholism
and
what
you
have.
And
in
that,
in
that
chapter,
they
talk
about
a
phenomenon
of
craving.
And
they
talk
about
this
conversation
that
this
doctor
had
and
that
he
had
with
this
leading
psychiatrist
and
that
the
only
answer,
the
psychiatrist
told
this
guy,
the
only
answer
for
an
alcoholic
of
your
type.
And
he
kept
on
saying
that
throughout
this
chapter.
The
only
answer
for
an
alcoholic
of
your
type
is
entire
abstinency,
and
then
the
next
paragraph
starts
out.
This
would
start
a
seizing
cauldron
of
debate.
And
then
it
talks
about
people
like
me
and
you.
And
you
know
why
it
started
a
seething
cauldron
of
debate
is
because
that's
the
dilemma
of
people
like
me
and
you,
an
alcoholic
of
our
type
is
that's
when
the
problem
starts
is
we've
been
sober.
And
now
you're
telling
me
that
the
answer
is
entire
abstinence.
And
I've
been
sober
and
that's
never
worked
before.
In
fact,
sobriety
drove
me
to
drink
time
and
time
and
time
again.
I
couldn't
stand
the
way
that
I
felt
when
I
was
sober,
which
is
why
the
following
chapters
are
about
applying
these
steps
to
your
life.
First,
you
find
out
what
you
got,
and
you
have
to
realize
that
you
got
to
stop
drinking.
And
because
it's
so
damn
miserable,
we
have
these
steps
to
take
that
put
you
in
a
state
of
living
that
makes
sobriety
bearable.
Now,
if
you're
new
and
you
feel
good,
you
may
not
need
it.
You
know
you
can
just
grab
your
stuff
and
get
on
your
way.
But
if
you're
an
alcoholic
of
my
type,
the
longer
you
stay
sober,
the
longer
you
don't
drink.
Don't
drink
unless
your
ass
falls
off
30
days
later,
come
back
no
ass.
You
know,
the
worse
your
life
seems
to
get,
you
know,
and,
and
thank
God
for
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
Thank
God
for
a
program
of
action
where
people
like
me
and
you
can
gather
around
and
sit
in
a
room
with
an
hour
and
a
half
with
people
you
don't
like
and,
and
come
away
feeling
good.
You
know,
and
come
away
feeling
good.
If
you're
new
and
you're
sitting
in
this
meeting
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous,
this
is
not
the
answer.
Sitting
in
a
room
for
an
hour
and
a
half
is
not
the
answer.
Getting
a
brick
on
the
wall
is
not
the
answer,
you
know?
Being
a
genius
is
obviously
not
the
answer,
you
know?
You
know
it's
not
about
knowledge.
It's
not
about
believing
that
you
have
it.
You've
got
a
disease
that
the
more
you
know
about
it,
the
worse
off
you
are.
Because
there
are
plenty
people
who
come
in
and
out
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous
who
don't
even
reach
a
A
even
some
of
them
who
know
they're
an
alcoholic
and
it's
not
enough
to
stop
them.
Why
is
that?
Because
they
got
a
mind
that
doesn't
give
a
crap
whether
they
got
You
have
a
disease.
You
don't
have
a
mood
swing.
You
have
a
disease
that
when
you're
sober,
the
only
thing
it
tells
you
to
do
is
let's
go.
It's
time
to
get
it
on,
baby.
You've
got
a
mind
that
is
relentless
and
you
are
a
captured
audience
and
you've
got
a
mind
that
don't
even
give
a
crap
that
you're
in
a
A
In
fact,
your
mind
is
good
for
one
thing,
talking
crap
and
it
doesn't
care
that
you're
sober.
And
you
will
spend
most
of
your
time
when
you're
new
debating
this
head,
fighting
this
head
off
because
this
head
is
gotcha.
That's
why
you
need
to
get
a
sponsor.
Get
a
sponsor.
Get
somebody
who's
been
doing
this
deal
longer
than
you.
Now,
if
you're
new,
you
don't
know
what
a
sponsor
is.
Several
of
you
guys
in
here
used
to
go
to
the
drag
races.
Maybe
some
of
you
still
do.
Years
ago,
the
dragsters
were
going
so
darn
fast
that
the
front
wheels
were
lifting
up
off
the
ground
and
these
things
were
going
airborne
and
the
and
the
drivers
of
these
dragsters
were
getting
killed.
So
the
engineers
got
together
with
some
of
these
aerodynamics
guys
and
they
designed
this
thing
that
they
put
on
the
back
of
the
dragsters
called
a
spoiler
that
no
matter
how
fast
that
dragster
goes,
the
front
wheels
stay
on
the
ground.
Hence
the
name
sponsor.
You
know,
no
matter
how
crazy
you
get,
your
sponsor
will
firmly
keep
you
on
the
ground.
Now,
he
may
not,
you
know,
wipe
your
rear
and
all
that,
but
he
will
say
kind
and
loving
things
like,
well,
where
in
the
hell
were
you
last
night?
You
know,
get
a
sponsor
that
is
like
that.
Get
a
sponsor
who's
not
concerned
about
your
emotions,
but
concerned
about
where
you
were
last
night
and
get
a
commitment
if
you're
new.
And
what
is
a
commitment?
Well,
you
don't
have
to
get
a
commitment
that
has
something
to
do
with
your
meeting
you're
in
making
coffee,
setting
up
chairs.
Get
something
to
hook
you
into
your
meeting
and
then
something
to
sit
you
down
in
your
chair,
because
that's
the
most
important
commitment
an
AA
member
has
is
fill
in
that
chair.
Make
a
commitment
to
be
at
a
certain
meeting
every
week
so
that
people
who
know
you
will
know
where
to
find
it.
And
we
have
a
lot
of
people
in
Alcoholics
Anonymous
who
don't
believe
in
Home
group.
They
just
go
from
meetings
to
meetings
to
meetings
to
meetings
and
nobody
gets
to
know
him.
How
you
doing?
Fine.
You
know
how
you
and
if
you're
gone
for
a
week
or
you're
sick,
nobody
misses
you
because
nobody
gets
to
know
you.
And
that's
why
I've
got
a
Home
group
where
I'm
accountable
for
where
I
can
go
in
and
I
can
fit
in.
And
I
don't
feel
like
a
guest
because
I've
helped
set
up
or
I've
helped
make
the
coffee
or
I've
done
something
to
take
part
in
that
meeting
besides
just
sit
and
put
in
a
buck
or
maybe
dodge
the
basket.
You
know
what
I
mean?
And
so
I'm
glad
to
be
a
member
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
And
being
a
member
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous
puts
on
your
shoulder
something
that
you've
been
running
from
your
entire
life.
And
this
responsibility,
we
have
responsibilities
being
a
member
because
it's
up
to
us
to
keep
these
meetings
alive.
And
I
love
my
sobriety
today.
And
I
come
from
a
good
home.
My
mom
and
dad
aren't
the
reason
why
I
drank,
for
Christ
sakes.
I
spent
an
entire
lifetime
looking
around
me
trying
to
find
out
something.
Give
me
a
reason
why
I
feel
so
crappy.
Oh,
yeah.
There's
things
going
on
in
my
life,
but
not
enough
to
make
me
feel
this
crappy,
you
know?
I
mean,
I
feel
crappy.
Yeah,
I
got
some
goofy
folks
and
some
stuff
going
on,
but
I
really
feel
a
lot
goofier
than
what's
going
on
around
me,
you
know.
And
my
mom
was.
I
was
born
in
Detroit,
come
out
to
California
when
I
was
about
four
years
old,
brought
up
in
a
little
foster
home.
My
mom
was
a
Scandinavian
lady,
little
one,
about
5
foot,
and
she
loved
diet
pills.
My
mom
was
always
buzzing
around
the
house
eating
speed
all
the
time,
you
know,
trying
to
fix
things,
you
know,
And
I
knew
if
I
ever
love
or
affection,
I
could
find
my
mom
in
the
garage
around
4:00
in
the
morning,
sorting
out
nuts
and
bolts
all
damn
night,
you
know,
And
she'd
take
that
speed.
And
she
loved
to
crochet.
She
was
always,
you
know,
doing
Afghans,
you
know,
and
she
take
that
speed.
And
everything
in
the
house
had
a
damn
fresh
Afghan,
man.
The
chairs
had
Afghans,
the
couches
had
Afghans.
My,
my
dad's
golf
clubs
had
little
chipmunks.
She
just
knit,
you
know,
And
if
there
is
any
animals
running
around,
they
had
a
fresh
vest
on,
you
know,
and
just
a
busy
lady,
man.
And
she
got
the
gas
power
edger
one
night
and
she
took
off
and
she
did
the
whole
damn
block,
man
did
10
minutes,
you
know,
just
a
busy
lady.
And
and
she
loved
to
do
those
jigsaw
puzzles.
My
mom
would
take
that
speed
and
do
these
jigsaw
puzzles,
these
40
million
piece
jigsaw
puzzles
of
the
Yuma
desert,
you
know,
she'd
go
to
save
on
to
get
her
a
carton
of
Raleigh
cigarettes
because
they
had
the
coupons
on
the
back
and
she'd
save
these
coupons
to
buy
more
yarn.
It
was
a
hideous
cycle
she
was
caught
up
in,
you
know,
she'd
come
home
at
my
mom
owned
one
Moo
Moo
her
entire
life,
you
know,
and,
and
that
thing
was
always
shiny
in
the
wrong
places,
you
know,
and
she'd
come
home
and
start
putting
together
this
puzzle,
you
know,
and
she
had
a
big
pair
of
toenail
Clippers.
So
if
she
got
a
piece
that
didn't
fit
well,
she'd
snip
that
son
of
a
bitch
right
down
till
I
did,
you
know,
she
had
a
job
to
do.
Man,
I
remember
being
a
little
kid
and
my
mom
and
dad
always
hit
stuff
in
the
kitchen.
My
dad's
booze
was,
was,
was
always
stored
by
price.
He
had
the
cheap
wine
by
the
disposal
and
all
the
good
vodka
and
bourbon
was
way
up
high,
you
know,
and
my
mom
would
always
have
her
pills
in
the
in
the
kitchen
cupboard.
And
I
remember
grabbing
a
couple
of
those
Dexies
and
being
about
8
years
old
and
just
took
one
of
those
things.
And
man,
I'm
like,
just
stood
right
there
in
that
little
spot
doing
100
miles
an
hour,
man,
just
trying
to
beat
my
eyes
into
the
next
room,
you
know,
you
know,
and
I
ran
off
into
the
garage.
I
closed
the
garage
door.
I
start
putting
together
this
model
and
every
then
I'd
lookout
the
window
and
I'd
see
this
black
and
white
flashes
and
that
was
the
damn
sun
going
up
and
down,
you
know,
I
come
out
of
there
about
3
days
later,
you
know,
and
she
was
there
as
a
fresh
lunch
all
wrapped,
you
know,
and
she
was
just
a
busy
lady.
I
had
two
sisters.
I
had
one
that
was
a,
a
baby
sister.
She
got
all
the
attention
because
she's
the
baby.
I
got
an
older
sister
because
she's
smart
and
good
looking.
And
I'm
stuck
in
the
middle,
you
know,
And
my
dad's
a
refinery
worker.
My
dad,
my
dad
was
a
happy
drunk.
My
dad
was
a
happy
singing,
The
Mills
Brothers,
Nat
King
Cole,
Bobby
Darin,
drunk
boy.
He
loved
to
get
drunk.
He
may
drink
and
look
good,
all
right.
He
was
a
miserable
man
when
he
was
sober,
but
he
was
a
happy
drunk.
And,
And
my
dad
wanted
me
to
do
well.
And
I
didn't
know
that.
I
thought
he
was
always
riding
me,
you
know,
But
that
dad,
Dad
was
a
happy
drunk.
And
Dad
was
always
sneaking
into
his
own
house.
He
was
a
window
climber,
you
know,
And
every
now
and
then,
my
dad
would,
you
know,
sneak
through
my
bedroom
window.
I
could
feel
his
boot
on
my
chest
as
he's
coming
in
for
the
night,
you
know,
And
I
remember
grabbing
it
one
night,
you
know.
Hey,
why
don't
you
have
mom
make
you
a
set
of
keys,
you
know,
Hell,
she's
up
anyway,
you
know,
I
mean,
I
can
hear
the
Hoover
going
now,
you
know,
and
my
dad
wanted
me
to
do
well.
And,
you
know,
I,
I
grew
up
hating
that
man
because
I
knew
deep
down
inside
that
I
could
never
make
that
guy
happy,
not
because
his
demands
were
so
low
or
so
high,
but
was
because
that
I
didn't
have
what
it
took.
I
was
never
one
to
complete
a
job.
I
could
start
out
things
and
have
great
ideas.
And
I'm
good
for
three
weeks,
you
know,
And
I
remember
being
about
11
years
old
and
there
was
four
of
us
and,
and
I'm
not
running
around
crazy
and
I'm
not
running
around,
you
know,
trying
to
hang
myself
or
anything
like
that.
But
I'm,
I'm
constantly
unhappy
about
being
me
and
where
I'm
at
and
who
I'm
with.
And
I
don't
leave
you
a
whole
lot
of
stuff
to
be
happy
about
it,
you
know,
And
I'm
constantly
in
a
state
of
wondering
what's
wrong
with
me.
And
I
know
that's
not
right
because
the
kids
around
me
are
going
to
the
same
schools
and
doing
the
same
thing.
And
they
seem
to
grasp
and
develop
a
manner
of
living.
And
I
didn't.
And
when
I
come
to
Alcoholics
Anonymous,
I
found
out
that
there
was
about
two,
two
sets
of
people.
People
would
come
to
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
They
seem
to
grow
up,
make
an
adjustment
to
life,
start
drinking.
It
gets
bad.
They
come
to
a
A,
they
get
sober
and
everything's
wonderful.
And
then
there's
guys
like
me
and
gals
like
me
who
never
make
that
adjustment
to
life.
And
at
an
early
age,
they
start
drinking
and
they
get
sober
and
they
have
nothing
to
return
to.
They
wouldn't
know
normal
living
if
it
hit
them
in
the
knee.
And
so
when
people
are
surrounded
by
people
like
me
and
you
telling
up,
just
stop
drinking
and
shape
up.
And
they
do.
And
those
are
the
kind
of
people
they're
always
bringing
to
my
side.
Hey,
Danny
used
to
drink
with
you,
and
he
just
got
married.
Look
at
him.
Why
can't
you
do
that?
You
know,
Bobby
used
to
drink
with
you,
and
he
got
religion,
and
he
shaped
right
up.
Why
can't
you
do
that?
You
know,
where's
your
willpower?
What's
wrong
with
you?
You
know,
and
because
Alcoholics
of
my
type,
none
of
those
things
work
for
us.
They
may
work
for
the
moderate
drinker.
And
I
think
that's
what's
confusing
about
that
is
because
we're
surrounded
by
people
who
tell
us
if
you
stop
drinking,
everything
will
be
all
right.
And
what
happens
if
people
like
me
and
you,
we
stop
drinking
and
it's
not
all
right?
God
damn
it,
it's
the
worst
thing
to
do.
If
you
think
the
first
couple
days
are
bad,
you
know,
hell,
the,
the
shakes
are
entertaining.
You
know
what?
When,
when
you
know,
give
me
some,
give
me
some
hallucinations
to
entertain
me,
you
know,
because
I've
been
running
from
life
my
entire
life.
I've
been
running
from
reality.
I
didn't
know
what
to
do
with
it.
And
anyway,
I
didn't
at
11
years
old,
there
was
four
of
us.
We
took
a
bottle
of
four
rose
whiskey.
And
for
the
first
time
in
my
life,
I
knew
this
is
what
I
was
supposed
to
be
feeling.
Now
this
is
feeling
good
and
this
is
what
those
guys
were
feeling
when
they
were
hitting
home
runs
and
getting
good
grades.
And
I
took
of
that
shot
of
that
4
rose
whiskey
and
I
I
wouldn't
pissed
off
about
being
me
anymore.
In
fact,
being
me
was
all
right
and
I've
never
been
happy
about
me
and
me.
But
more
important
than
that,
it
shut
off
my
head
that,
that
that
inexhaustible
mind
to
mind,
that
thing
that's
relentless,
the
thing
that
keeps
you
up
all
night,
you
know,
and
it
shut
off
my
head
and
man,
it,
it
gave
me
the
best
half
hour
of
my
life.
And
then
I
puked,
you
know,
but
I
didn't
head
out
the
Skid
Row
that
very
next
day.
But
I
connected
happiness
with
something
for
the
first
time
in
my
life.
I
got,
I
wasn't,
you
know,
all
I
can
tell
you
is
at
the
age
of
11,
sobriety
stopped
working.
I
had
all
I
could
have
of
being
sober.
I
found
something
that
was
going
to
make
it
easy
for
me,
and
I
didn't
have
to
worry
about
where
I
was
going
to
do
when
I
grow
up
or
if
I
should
go
in
the
Navy
or
what
does
Dad
want
me
to
do?
Because
the
moment
that
I
would
get
restless,
irritable
or
discontented
or
it
had
to
face
some
kind
of
responsibility,
I
knew
I
could
take
a
shot
of
my
dad's
wine
or
whiskey.
Now,
like
I
said,
I
didn't
head
out
the
Skid
Row
that
very
next
day.
But
I
tell
you,
when
I
got
into
high
school,
I
finally
found
a
group
of
people
that
made
me
feel
more
part
of
life
than
anybody
I'd
ever
met.
And
that
was
the
low
riders.
And
I
love
the
low
riders.
I
was
a
freshman
in
high
school
and
I
ran
around
with
a
bunch
of
guys.
We'd
get
our
hair
up
like
a
big
Bakersfield
tumbleweed,
you
know,
and
we'd
bounce
around
and
listen
to
The
Four
Tops
and
the
Temptations
and
the
O'jays
and
Marvin
Gaye.
God,
I
loved
it,
man.
I
was
in
my
plumbing
truck
a
couple
weeks
ago
and
The
Four
Tops
came
on.
I
just
start
sinking
in
my
damn
plumber
right
now.
I
loved
it.
I
had
a
Mexican
girlfriend
named
Loopy,
and
she
used
to
grit
her
hair
up
real
big
and
she'd
curl
her
hair
with
these
little
soup
cans.
And
sometimes
the
potatoes
were
stuck
in
there,
you
know,
and,
and
we'd
bounce
around
all
night,
you
know,
and
I'd
have
three
guys
in
the
back
seat
of
that
car
and
they
look
just
like
me.
And
all
you
can
see
were
our
eyes
and
a
frown
going,
hey,
what's
happening,
you
know,
like
that?
And,
and
we
weren't
driving
around
because
we
were
bad.
We
were
driving
around
with
that
look
because
our
asses
hurt
bouncing
around
all
night,
you
know?
But
man,
we'd
eat
those
Reds
and
drink
that
wine
and
wonder
what
the
hell
you're
staring
at.
What
are
you
looking
at,
man?
You
know,
I
ran
into
a
kid
not
too
long
ago,
man.
It
was
about
3
Christmases
ago.
I'm
in
the
Glendale
mall
and
this
kid
walks
by
me.
He's
got
a
bald
head.
Everything
on
his
body
he's
got,
he's
all
tatted
down.
He's
got
a
tanked
off
on.
He's
got
a
big
pair
of
pants
on.
You
could
put
about
three
kids
in,
you
know,
he's
got
4
beepers
because
he's
an
important
kid,
you
know,
and
everything
in
his
face
is
chained
together.
He's
got
his
eyes
pierced
and
his
lips
pierced.
He's
got
a
chain
going
from
his
ear
to
his
wallet,
you
know,
and
you
got
a
ball
bearing
in
his
tongue,
you
know.
And
I
walked
by
him
and
he
goes,
what
are
you
looking
at?
And
I
said
hell,
I
don't
know
what
I'm
looking
at
Madam,
You
know,
I
wanted
to
spray
him
with
some
WD40
or
something
like
that,
man,
what
am
I
looking
at?
Let
me
lock
you
to
the
bike
rack,
you
little
son
of
a
you
know,
And
what
am
I
looking
now?
I
sponsor
the
kids,
you
know,
first
thing
I
told
them,
man,
I
want
you
to
call
me
every
day,
get
a
commitment
and
grow
some
hair
for
Christ
sakes.
You
know
that,
damn
it,
you
know?
But
I
understand
what
that's
all
about,
man.
Look
at
my
hair
and
look
at
my
ball
bearings.
But
you
know,
don't
get
in
where
it's
really
happening.
You
know,
don't
find
out
what
I
really
am.
Because
what
I
am
is
a
scared
kid
bouncing
around
with
an
image.
And
Alcoholics
of
my
time
live
their
entire
life
going
from
image
to
image
to
image
to
image,
because
it's
much
easier
to
fulfill
an
image
than
to
do
what
you're
supposed
to
do.
In
reality,
there's
no
responsibility
in
image
making
up,
you
know,
and
I'd
bounce
around
with
those
guys
and
I
found
out
men
that
I
found
the
key
to
life
in
the
front
seat
of
that
Chevrolet,
you
know?
And
I
knew
that
whenever
I
would
drink
that
wine
and
and
eat
those
red,
that
everything
was
going
to
be
all
right,
you
know?
And
I
mean,
you
know,
I
didn't
drive
around
and
hey,
Rudy,
I'm
feeling
kind
of
fearful,
you
know?
I
mean,
you
know,
you
know,
you
just
suck
it
up.
And,
and
I
had
a
good
time,
man,
and
I
had
a
good
time.
And
I
love
the
way
that
I
live,
you
know,
and
everything
that
I'd
ever
need
in
life
was
going
to
be
found
in
that
Chevrolet,
you
know,
And
I
remember
them
being
a
sometime
in
your
high
school
class,
they
got
a
driver
education
class.
Like
you
haven't
driven
before,
you
know,
and
I'm
taking
summer
school
because
I'm
always
getting
kicked
out
of
school.
And
so
it's
a
summer
school.
It's
a
hot
day.
It's
my
turn
to
drive
coaches.
All
right,
Thomas,
get
into
the
car.
So
I
get
my
hair
into
the
car,
you
know,
these
three
girls
in
the
back
seat.
All
right,
I
want
you
to
pull
over
over
here
in
parallel
park.
So
I
parallel
park,
you
know,
and
seem
to
do
all
right.
And
he
says,
well,
you're
doing
pretty
good.
Look
at
it's
kind
of
a
hot
day.
Why
don't
you
go
up
to
Torrance
Blvd.
and
go
to
the
jack-in-the-box,
want
to
buy
everybody
some
Pepsi?
What
a
cool
coat.
So
I
drive
up
there
and
I
totally
forgot
that
the
night
before
we
went
out
partying
and
I
just
got
just
tied
one
on
and
some
guy
gave
me
4
tonals,
you
know,
and
I've
been
a
good
kid.
I
just
been
drinking
and
doing
heroin.
Some
guy
gave
me
these
four
tumulals
and
they're,
they're
half,
half
Amatol.
You're
knocked
out.
Telling
the
truth
is
what
you're
doing,
you
know.
The
Al
Anon's
love
them,
you
know.
Who's
Juanita,
you
know?
And
so
I
took
them
all,
you
know,
I
didn't
want
to
be,
you
know,
we're
driving
around
and
I
just
took
them
all
and
we
caught
it
and,
you
know,
maybe
four
don't
work.
So
I
just
took
them,
you
know,
I
never
thought
nothing
of
it.
And
pull
up
to
the
jack-in-the-box
in
order
and
boom,
these
things
nail
me,
man,
you
know,
and
I
can't
see
and
I
can't
talk.
And
there's
about
3
coaches
now,
you
know,
and
you
pull
up
to
the
puppet
in
order,
you
know.
Well,
I
can't
see
the
puppet
man,
you
know,
I,
I
can
hear
the
puppet,
you
know,
can
I
have
your
order,
please?
You
know,
you
got
that
whiny
little
voice.
So
I,
I
put
that
one
eye
and
I
go,
you
know,
and
I
and
hear
this
big
crash
in
his
puppet's
head
hanging
down
like
that,
you
know,
and
that
kids
still
in
there.
Can
I
have
your
order?
I
want
to
talk
to
the
kid,
you
know,
I
want
him
to
come
out
and
be
my
designated
driver,
you
know,
and
the
cops
come
and
they
arrest
me
and
they
throw
me
on
the
hood
of
the
car
and,
and
I
don't,
you
know,
drive
till
I'm
30.
But
big
deal.
Now
you
get
to
ride
shotgun,
man.
And
there's
nothing
like
driving
shotgun,
you
know,
leave
the
driving
to
us,
man.
You
can
sit
over
there
and.
Jesus,
man,
you
driving
shotgun
and
you
and
you
make
that
connection
with,
with
the,
with
the,
with
the
unknown
world,
man,
for
the
first
time
in
your
life,
you
see
yourself
in
a
mirror,
boy,
if
you
want
to
keep
an
alky
entertained,
put
a
mirror
in
front
of
a
man,
man,
are
you
good
looking
man?
And
keep
drinking
that
wine.
Your
hair
gets
bigger,
your
eyes
get
bluer,
you
know,
and
Jesus
Christ,
man,
what
am
I
doing
in
this
car
with
these
Mexicans?
You
know,
I
should
be
an
underwear
model.
You
know,
I
don't
wear
any,
but
what
the
heck,
you
know,
Always
dreaming,
man.
Anyway,
around
1969,
all
my
buddies
seem
to
be
going
places.
Some
of
them
are
going
to
Vietnam
and,
and
some
of
them
could
you
get
me
a
napkin
please?
And
some
of
them
are
are
turning
hippie
and
going
to
San
Francisco.
And
I
wonder
what
I'm
going
to
do
with
my
life.
And
so
me
and
my
buddy
decide
to
go
back
to
go
back
to
Detroit
and
find
my
roots.
And
so
I
wind
up
in
Phoenix
and,
you
know,
and
there's
no
roots
there.
You
know,
I,
I'm
over
there
at
the
Apache
Motel
overlooking
the
Wagon
Wheel
Bar
and
me
and
this
guy
from
from
Tennessee
named
Ernie,
you
know,
and
at
this
time
in
my
life,
it's
a,
it's,
it's
just
a
matter
of
three
Boilermakers.
And
I
have
this
ability
to
sound
like
who's
ever
standing
next
to
me
in
the
bar.
It's
an
amazing
thing.
I
just
pick
up
their
characteristics
and,
and
I'd
rather
sound
like
them
just
to
fit
in,
you
know
what
I
mean?
Makes
me
feel
a
part
of,
you
know,
and
it
because
it's
really
something.
One
night
you'll
be
in
the
Wagon
Wheel
Bar
and
old
Ernie.
Well,
hi,
Larry.
How
are
you?
Well,
I'm
fine.
How
are
you,
you
know.
And
the
next
day
you're
in
a
Japanese
bar.
How
are
you?
Very
good.
How
are
you?
You
know,
as
long
as
I'm
not
me,
you
know.
So
anyway,
I
hook
up
with
this
guy
named
Ernie
and
Ernie's
from
Tennessee.
He
says,
Larry,
I
got
an
idea
how
we're
going
to
make
some
money.
He
says
there's
a
race
track
not
too
far
from
here.
And
he
says
you're
going
to
be
a
jockey.
Am
I
now,
you
know,
and
I'm
all
excited,
I'm
all
ready
to
get
into
training
and
stuff
like
that.
And
he
says,
now
what
we
got
to
do,
Larry,
is
he
said,
we
got
to
get
you
down
to
£95.
He
says
now,
and
I'm
going
to
be
gone
for
two
months,
but
when
I
come
back,
we're
going
to
weigh
you
in
and
get
you,
you
know,
get
us
a
pony
and,
you
know,
all
that
stuff.
He
says,
but
you've
got
to
get
down
to
95
lbs.
And
then
he
gave
me
this
bag
of
meth,
you
know,
the
guy
comes
back
five
days
later,
opens
up,
you
know,
and
Harry,
how
are
you?
You
know,
what
are
you
going?
Yeah.
I
don't
want
to
be
jockey
no
more,
Ernie.
Yeah,
I'm
standing
in
the
same
spot,
man.
You
know,
And
I
lost
about
30
lbs,
you
know,
I
want
to
work
at
the
jack-in-the-box
or
anyhow,
you
know,
my
head's
going
faster
than
any
pony
I've
ever
seen.
You
know,
he
just
said,
all
right,
man.
So
he
says,
we
went
down
there.
And
he
says,
and
then
I
start
getting
these
jobs.
I
could
never,
I
never
had
a
real
job.
I'm
the
kind
of
guy
that
gets
job
through
Volt,
Volt
and
temporary
services
and
stuff
like
that.
And
I
finally
got
a
job
through
manpower
down
there
and
I
was
working
as
a
ditch
digger
for
a
plumber.
There's
nothing
like
being
a
ditch
digger
and
the
boss
is
10
years
younger
than
you,
you
know,
and
you
get
that
resentment,
boy.
And
it
always
happens
at
work,
you
know,
never
happened.
But
at
work,
here
I
am
digging
that
ditch
going.
He's
son
of
a
bliss.
Look
at
you,
you
know,
and
just
here
I
am,
you
know,
just
hating
that
guy,
man.
Finally
I
fake
an
injury,
takes
me
to
the
emergency
ward
and
I
do
what
I
always
do.
I
fake
an
injury.
I
get
me
a
prescription
pad
and
I
just
start
writing
them,
start
drinking
that
old
Crow
whiskey
and
and
writing
for
Percodan
and
Obitrol
and
Nemby
Troll
and
2nd
all
and
you
name
it
all.
I
wrote
it
all,
you
know,
and
me
and
Ernie
start
selling
that
paper
and
drinking
that
whiskey
and
we
went
down
to
Tucson
and
after
close
to
two
years,
they
finally
caught
up
with
me.
Now
when
you're
loaded
on
barbituras
and
whiskey,
there's
no
freeway
chase
like
they
have
down
here.
There
you
go
down
to
four
O
5.
You
know,
it's
just
a
matter
of
the
sheriff
coming
into
your
room
going
hope
there's
a
little
guy
right
there,
you
know,
and
kick
in
and
put
you
in
the
car
until
they,
they
tried
and
convicted
me
and
put
me
away
down
there
for
close
to
two
years.
And
in
1974,
I
come
back
to
California
and
what
happened
is
the
probation
department
bought
me
a
bus
ticket
and
they
gave
me
a
like
a
cash,
like
a
voucher
for
50
bucks.
And
then
they
send
you
to,
they
take
you
to
the
Greyhound
station
and
they
make
sure
you
go
out
of
state.
And
I
come
back
to
California
and
hook
up
with
a
probation
department
over
there
at
the
South
Bay
courthouse.
And
at
this
time
they
introduce
an
abuse
into
my
life.
And
I'm
starting
to
visit
some
of
the
recovery
centers
around
over
there.
And
in
1974,
I'm
I'm
sober
for
about
two
weeks
and
I'm
in
a
Little
League
dugout
over
there
in
El
Segundo,
and
the
cops
come
and
they
arrest
me
because
I'm
in
between
hysterical
and
maniacal.
It's
a
great
place
to
be.
It's
like
being
two
days
sober,
come
two
days
sober
and
it's
like
being
on
acid.
You
know
what
I
mean?
Everybody's
always
having
to
talk
you
down.
Going
to
be
all
right,
You're
here
on
earth,
you
know?
And,
and
they
come
there
and
they
start
talking
to
me
and
they
send
me
to
the
Harbor
General
Hospital
and
they
diagnose
that
some
of
my
drug
overdoses
have
been
suicide
attempts.
And
they
send
me
a
Camarillo
to
be
observed
for
a
month.
And
I
came
out
of
there
about
12
months
later
with
a
bag
of
pills
and
a
psychiatrist
to
see.
And
early
part
of
1975,
I'm
over
in
Alvaro
St.
and
I
get
picked
up.
Thank
you.
I
get
picked
up
for
being
publicly
intoxicated,
a
violation
of
probation,
public
nuisance.
So
they
send
me
back
to
Wayside
and
I'm
up
there
for
about
60
days.
And
they
put
about
sixty
of
us
in
a
black
and
white
bus.
And
they
sent
us
down
to
the
South
Bay
courthouse
where
we're
going
to
be
tried
and
sentenced.
And
4:00
in
the
afternoon,
I'm
in
a
holding
tank
about
this
big,
and
there's
nothing
but
me
and
baloney
sandwiches.
And
I'm
wondering
where
I'm
going
to
go
now.
And
I'm
the
only
one
left
in
there.
And
at
4:00
in
the
afternoon,
there's
a
Scottish
man
with
a
patch
who
stuck
his
head
in
that
jail
cell.
And
he
says,
I
lad,
he
says,
are
you
Larry
Thomas?
And
I
said,
yes,
Sir,
I
am.
He
says,
come
with
me.
You're
going
to
a
A.
My
name
is
Alex.
And
I
said
I
said
AAI
says
I've
never
heard
those
two
initials
before.
I've
heard
of
OR
and
PO,
but
what's
an
A?
A,
you
know,
and
who's
this
Scottish
pirate
all
of
a
sudden?
You
know,
I
lad,
you
know,
and,
and
so
naturally
I'm
ready
for
a
long
ride
and
maybe
some
lunch.
And
the
guy
takes
me
six
blocks
away
to
my
first
meeting
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
And
I
was
in
this
little
guy's
Plymouth,
the
little
lime
green
Plymouth,
for
about
15
minutes.
And,
you
know,
for
15
minutes.
That
guy
could
have
killed
me.
You
know
how
he
could
have
killed
me?
He
could
have
killed
me
like
we're
killing
him
today.
He
could
have
lowered
his
car
and
pierced
his
ear
and
got
down
to
my
level
to
make
me
feel
a
part
of
a
A.
He
could
have
talked
my
jailhouse
lingo
to
make
me
feel
good
and
be
my
bro.
There
was
nothing
more
uncomfortable
and
disappointing
than
to
be
in
a
jail
or
being
a
in
a
institution
and
have
people
come
to
a
A
and
see
these
guys
talk
in
my
language
to
make
them
feel
a
part
of.
And
Alex
told
me
when
he
made
it
very
clear
that
he'd
been
down
where
I
was
and
that
if
there
was
any
change
in
that
was
going
to
be
done,
it
was
going
to
be
done
on
my
end
of
it.
He
said
that
alcohol,
he
talked
you
guys
up
a
storm.
He
said
Alcoholics
Anonymous
is
a
place
where
you
get
sober
and
find
a
brand
new
way
of
life.
That's
the
key,
a
brand
new
way
of
life.
Because
the
most
conflict,
the
biggest,
the
biggest
area
of
conflict
for
people
when
they're
new
and
Alcoholics
Anonymous
or
if
this
are
hanging
on
is
that
they
try
to
stay
sober
and
hang
on
to
their
old
lifestyle.
They
want
to
come
in
here
and
be
happy,
joyous
and
free
and
get
all
the
goodies,
or
pretend
they
do
and
then
go
home
and
try
to
work
an
honest
program
dishonestly
and
it
ain't
jiving.
And
you
can
tell
by
their
face.
Alcoholics
Anonymous
isn't
something
you
come
and
visit
and
recite.
Alcoholics
Anonymous
as
a
way
of
life
that
evolves
you
out
of
the
gutter
that
drove
you
here.
And
there's
nothing
more
sad
than
to
see
people
hang
on
to
these
images
or
get
new
ones
when
they
get
here.
I
got
guys
that
I
sponsor
who
don't
get
tattoos
till
they
get
60
days,
you
know,
so
they
can
feel
a
part
of,
you,
know
what
I
mean?
And
it's
amazing.
Alcohol
is
Anonymous
is
about
fulfilling
a
spiritual
void
with
a
spiritual
answer.
It's
not
about
being
good
and
being
wonderful.
And,
you
know,
it's
about
not
living
by
rights
anymore,
but
about
living
by
principles.
Principles
were
when
you
have
young
kids
in
the
room,
it's
not
necessary
to
cuss,
especially
if
they're
in
a
meeting
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
It
would
seem
like
this
would
be
the
place
we
could
start,
you
know?
And
that's
the
kind
of
stuff
this
guy
told
me,
you
know,
and
for
15
minutes,
he
could
have
killed
me.
And
he
took
me
to
my
first
meeting
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous
in
1975.
He
took
me
over
to
a
club
over
there
in
Torrance
called
the
Torrance
La
Mita
Alano
Club.
And
I
never
seen
this
place.
And
he
walked
me
into
this
room
and
introduced
me
to
a
lady
named
Indian
Genie
and
singing
Sam
and
Serenity
Sam
and,
you
know,
Captain
Bob
and
Tennessee
Bill
and
Santa
Claus
Ray
and
Bicycle
Ray
and
Dancing
Pete
and
Whistling
Butt
and
a
bunch
of
other
people,
you
know.
And
I
said,
Mike,
I
just,
you
know,
left
a
group
of
people
like
this,
you
know,
little
Moose
was
from
Louisiana,
and
she
comes
running
down.
Hi,
honey.
My
name
is
Moose.
And
I'm
expecting
a
miracle.
I
said,
I
bet
you
are,
man.
I
said,
I'm
not
it,
That's
for
sure,
You
know?
And
then
this
big
transvestite
came
out
of
the
card
room,
you
know,
and
he
said
that
he
started
circling
me
like
a
helicopter,
you
know,
and
he
said,
I
can't
wait
to
take
you
to
a
candlelight
meeting.
I
said,
I
don't
think
so,
you
know,
not
for
my
first
year
anyway,
You
know,
I
got
my
pride,
big
fella,
you
know,
I
said,
my
God,
if
that's
a
a,
I'm
not
sure
I
want
to
stick
around
this
place,
you
know,
and,
and
if
that's
the
effect
of
that
blue
book,
I'm
not
sure
I
want
to
crack
that
thing
open
either,
man.
And
I
was
immediately
different,
which
doesn't
take
a
guy
like
me
long.
And
from
1975
to
19,
two,
I
came
in
to
1982,
I
came
in
and
out
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous
on
a
regular
basis.
Now
that
don't
make
me
special
and
that
don't
make
me
more
of
an
alcoholic
or
a
better
member.
I
hear
people
banting
that
stuff
around
here
like
it's
their
little
badge
of
courage.
I
went
to
in
and
out
for
20
years.
They
not
good.
Well,
what
about
these
guys
who
have
stayed
sober
for
30
years?
What
about
these
guys
in
this
room
who
have
stayed
sober
for
25
and
30
years,
who
day
after
day
take
their
place
in
these
meetings?
That's
where
the
attention
should
be
brought
to
because
it's
guys
like
that
who
keep
rooms
like
this
wide
open
for
goofs
like
this
to
wander
in
here.
You
see,
that's
the
oddity,
is
that
people
stay
in
A,
a
majority
of
the
people
leave
A,
a
majority
of
people
don't
come
in
here
and
stay.
And
isn't
it
ironic?
The
majority
of
the
people
don't
come
here
and
do
anything
either?
They
come
and
visit
for
an
hour
and
a
half.
But
the
doers
seem
to
stay.
They
seem
to
have
that
look.
They
seem
to
have
that
thing
where,
you
know
what?
This
thing's
more
important
to
stay
alive
than
anything
else
in
my
life.
It's
their
primary
purpose.
And
I
came
in
and
in
and
out
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous
30
days
and
get
drunk,
60
days
and
get
drunk
and
90
days
and
get
drunk.
And
the
longest
I
could
stay
sober
was
six
months
because
I
was
on
heroin.
And
the
biggest
lie
that
I've
ever
told
my
life,
my
entire
life,
was
that
I
was
going
in
and
out
of
a
a
It
was
the
biggest
lie
I've
ever
told.
I
hadn't
touched
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
I
didn't
even
know
what
an
alcoholic
was.
I
didn't
venture
into
that
book.
I
didn't
get
a
sponsor.
All
I
did.
And
I
talked
to
a
guy
about
this
last
night.
He
had
nine
years
and
now
for
the
past
three
years
he's
been
trying
to
and
he
can't
get
more
than
60
days
sober.
You
know
why?
Because
he
can't
imagine
life
without
it.
He
is
sold
on
the
fact
that
the
future
is
nothing
but
bleak
and
the
only
way
for
him
to
stop
time
is
to.
I
believe
you
knew
all
the
time.
You
continually
be
new
and
you
seem
to
think
you
can
stop
the
clock.
And
I
told
him
what
you
folks
told
me,
what
you
taught
me.
The
biggest
surrender
you
got
to
make
here.
If
you're
new,
the
biggest
surrender.
Isn't
that
not
to
drink
anymore?
Here's
the
surrender.
You're
either
going
to
run
your
life
and
suffer
the
consequences,
or
you're
going
to
let
Alcoholics
Anonymous
run
your
life
and
suffer
the
consequences.
That's
the
surrender.
How's
it
going
so
far?
And
leave
it
to
an
alcoholic
to
have
to
think
about
it?
Well,
I
don't
know,
you
know,
let's
see.
Let's
see.
I
ain't
got
no
teeth.
I'm
bleeding
everywhere.
I'm
in
the
Harbor
General
Hospital.
Can
you
get
back
to
me
tomorrow
on
that?
You
know,
And
that's
me.
That's
me,
1980.
There's
a
guy
doing
his
12
step
work.
I'm
over
at
the
Don
Hotel
over
there
in
Wilmington.
I've
got
on
the
third
floor.
I
got
a
hot
plate
and
a
hot
TV.
I
got
1/2
pint
of
bourbon
in
there.
And
I
got
my
little
long
hair
and
my,
my
little
lounge
chair
and
my,
my
little
Goodwill
clothes.
And
I'm
watching
Jeopardy.
So
I
could
really
feel
like
an
idiot.
You
know,
every
now
and
then
you
get
one
right,
Donald
Duck.
Yeah.
I
am
a
smart
man,
you
know.
I
don't
need
no
college,
you
know.
I'm
a
genius
too,
you
know,
and,
you
know,
and
I
hear
this
knock
on
the
door
and
I
said,
oh,
my
God,
it's
a
landlord,
Larry.
It's
Don.
Oh
my
God,
it's
that
guy
from
AAI.
Didn't
even
call
him.
And
he's
coming
over
here,
man.
Why
didn't
he
working?
I
ain't
worked
a
day
in
my
life,
you
know?
He
says,
Larry,
it's
Don.
Can
I
come
in?
And
he
opens
up
the
door
and
it's
my
first
sponsor.
He
says,
Jesus
Christ,
kid,
what's
going
on?
He
had
15
days.
You
were
going
to
be
a
janitor
in
the
city
of
Lomita.
There's
some
hope
for
you,
you
know,
he
says,
what's
going
on?
And
I
took
a
shot
off
of
that
bourbon.
And
I
told
Don,
I
says,
look
at,
I
said,
you've
been
trying
real
hard.
I
don't
want
what
you
have
and
I
don't
want
what
you
got.
And
if
I
ever
get
that
bad,
I'll
know
what
to
do.
And
I
get
the
hell
out
of
my
room
and
let
me
do
it.
I
want
to
do
the
cry
of
this
alcoholic
my
entire
life.
Let
me
do
what
I
want
to
do.
And
the
moment
that
I
said
that,
it
struck
a
chord
in
the
back
of
my
neck
that
shot
me
back
to
1967
when
me
and
my
father
are
fighting.
I'm
getting
kicked
out
of
high
school
because
I
was
drunk
and
selling
dope.
And
he's
telling
me
if
you
want
to
live
like
that,
that's
your
business.
But
I've
got
a
wife
and
two
daughters
and
you're
not
going
to
live
like
that
under
this
roof.
Now
get
yourself
and
get
out
of
here.
And
shot
me
back
to
1972
when
I'm
coming
out
of
that
institution.
And
where
do
macho
men
go
when
there's
no
place
to
go?
They
go
to
Mom's
house,
don't
they?
I
hear
that's
where
you
were.
Yeah.
Me
too.
Yeah,
they
don't
give
chips
for
that,
you
know.
All
right,
good
going,
man.
He
got
90
days
on
Mom's
couch,
all
right.
And
and
I'm
on
my
mom's
couch
and
yeah,
and,
and
just
like
the
days
of
wine
and
roses,
man,
I
woke
up
in
that
panic
and
I'm
looking
for
that
half
pint.
And
I
can't
find
that
half
pint.
And
I
start
tearing
my
little
mom's
house
apart,
start
pulling
stuff
off
the
kitchen
cabinet,
the
bathroom
cabinet.
She
comes
out
of
the
she
was
hunting
what's
wrong
with
me?
And
I
start
smacking
that
little
lady
around
till
I
get
blood.
Macho
man
that'll
make
you
feel
good.
Demanding
that
she
come
up
with
a
bottle
that
she
don't
even
know
that's
there,
that
I
find
in
the
trash
the
next
morning.
You
see,
that's
the
kind
of
stuff
we
do.
And
then
there's
the
kind
of
stuff
we
do
that
we
did
when
we
weren't
blacked
out.
And
those
are
the
things
we
pay
the
price
for.
Those
are
the
little
Nuggets
that
keep
us
up
all
night.
The
little
things
that
you
dared
hope
nobody
ever
see
you
do.
How
could
you
do
something
like
that?
How
could
you
sneak
into
your
moms
house
when
she
hadn't
seen
you
for
a
year
and
a
half?
Wake
her
up
when
she's
watching
Johnny
Carson
to
see
you
in
your
street
mud.
Frighten
her
to
death
for
her
to
start
crying
and
rocking
you
in
her
arms
as
she
says,
Dear
God
help
my
baby
boy.
And
you
tell
ma,
don't
worry
about
it,
It's
going
to
be
all
right.
It
ain't
that
bad,
you
see,
and
you
run
this
and
it
is
amazing
that
none
of
this
stuff
is
enough
to
keep
you
sober
because
me
and
you
don't
live
like
that
for
a
week.
Me
and
you
don't
live
like
that
for
a
year.
Me
and
you
have
lived
like
that
our
entire
careers.
Now
to
the
normal
drinker
one
night
of
the
way
we
drank
would
be
enough
and
he
would
say
Jesus
man.
But
not
to
the
alcoholic.
Not
to
the
alcoholic.
We
can't
wait
to
start
it
all
over
again.
We
can't
wait.
And
that's
the
dilemma
you're
in.
That
even
your
worst
memory
isn't
enough
to
keep
you
sober.
Your
worst
nightmare,
the
consequences
of
your
physical
condition,
the
promises
you've
made,
none
of
it
is
enough
to
keep
you
sober.
Why
not?
Because
you
have
a
disease.
It's
because
it
has
you.
You
are
totally
powerless.
Even
when
it
stops
working.
Your
disease
don't
care.
I
hear
that
all
the
time.
I
stop
drinking
because
it
stopped
working.
My
head
didn't
care.
That
was
then,
this
is
now.
We
got
a
job
to
do
and
thank
God
for
the
powerless
and
that
is
your
recognition.
And
in
May
2nd,
1982,
I
come
to
grips
with
this
thing
called
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
I
come
to
grips
that
it
wasn't
my
worst
drunk
and
it
wasn't
my
longest
drunk,
but
it
was
the
one
that
drank
away
the
debate
of
whether
or
not
I'm
going
to
do
what
you
people
do
and
suffer
the
consequences
or
I'm
going
to
keep
running
my
life
and
suffer
the
consequences,
you
know.
And
as
a
result
of
that,
I
turn
myself
into
a
sponsor
and
let
some
man
start
running
my
life
and
telling
me
how
to
do
and
when
I'm
going
to
do
it
and
checking
in.
And
to
this
day,
I
still
have
a
sponsor.
And
to
this
day,
I
have
a
good
life.
I
used
to
come
in
Alcoholics
Anonymous
and
think
it
would
shield
me
from
life,
little
bullets.
But
what
it's
going
to
do
is
stick
you
smack
bad
in
the
middle
of
life.
And
you
better
have
a
program.
You
better
have
a
place
to
go
where
people
know
you
because
it
ain't
always
going
to
be
smooth.
It
ain't
always
going
to
be
keen.
But
you
can
always
be
sober
here.
And
Alcoholics
Anonymous,
Bill
Wilson
lays
it
out
really
clear
in
that
book.
He
says
there
will
not
be.
We
will
teach
you
how
to
survive
the
certain
low
spots
ahead.
He's
telling
you
they're
going
to
be
low
spots
and
he's
telling
you
you're
going
to
survive
them.
But
you
got
to
get
here.
You
got
to
get
here.
You
don't
have
to
hide
out
and
fight
your
feelings
anymore.
You
don't
have
to
live
by
those
little
goofy
pep
talks
you
give
yourself
anymore.
You
know,
you
come
to
Alcoholics
Anonymous
and
you
don't
even
have
to
worry
about
getting
the
power.
You
come
into
this
room
and
you
become
part
of
the
power.
It's
right
here
because
when
you
bring
your
spark
and
I
bring
my
spark,
something
happens
here.
It's
never
happened
before
in
my
life.
I'm
so
I'm
not
concerned
about
whether
I'm
going
to
drink
or
not.
It's
all
taken
away
when
I'm
with
you
because
something
happens
here
in
these
meetings
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
That's
why
it's
so
important
that
we
be
quiet
in
meetings
of
Alcoholics
and
islands
because
if
you
want
to
talk,
that's
your
business.
But
there
may
be
a
fella
sitting
next
to
you
that
needs
to
hear
something
because
the
miracle
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous
is
1
drunk
talking
to
another.
And
isn't
it
ironic
when
a
fella
needs
to
hear
it,
there's
a
fellow
saying
it.
And
that's
the
magic
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
I've
got
a
great
life
today
because
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
What
are
you
going
to
do
with
a
guy
like
me?
I
didn't
know
nothing.
I
come
from
nothing.
Alcoholics
Anonymous
made
me
a
plumber.
They
took
me
out
of
the
gutter
and
stuck
me
in
the
sewer
for
Christ
sakes.
You
know,
I
have
a
good
life.
I've
got
a
daughter
that
I
wasn't
supposed
to
see
that
I'm
seeing
on
a
regular
basis.
Because
if
I
can
go
to
Washington
and
talk,
then
I
can
go
to
Phoenix
and
see
my
little
girl
Lauren.
And
I
love
my
baby
girl,
and
my
baby
girl's
doing
good
in
school.
I've
got
a
wonderful
wife
that
most
of
you
know,
and
she's
an
active
member
of
Alcoholics
Anonymous,
and
she's
the
bright
spot
of
my
life,
that
little
lady.
I
love
my
Rosie.
I
love
my
Rosie
with
everything
that
you've
given
me
because
it's
you
who
taught
me
how
to
take
care
of
her.
I
didn't
know
that
when
I
got
here.
I
had
all
these
ideas
about
what
a
man
is
and
all
had
to
do
with
validating
my
manhood
and
doing
things
to
make
me
feel
good
that
weren't
right
because
it
meant
hurting
you
to
make
me
feel
good.
You
folks
taught
me
how
to
behave
around
a
woman
and
how
to
behave
around
a
child.
And
you
taught
me
about
respect
for
the
thing
called
a
wife
and
my
fellow
man
and
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
My
little
girl
is
13,
and
she's
doing
real
good
in
school.
I'm
no
longer
number
one
on
her
list.
She's
got
the
Backstreet
Boys
now.
You
know,
she
called
me
up
the
other
day
and
she
says,
dad,
the
kids
are
making
fun
of
me
in
school
because
I'm
so
smart.
She
said,
did
that
ever
happened
to
you?
I
said
yeah.
I
says
no,
honey,
but
I
know
why
they're
doing
it.
They
envy
you.
They
envy
you.
You
keep
doing
what
you're
doing
and
you're
going
to
keep
getting
what
you're
getting.
We
have
a
good
life
here.
If
you're
new.
If
you're
new.
Alcoholics
Anonymous
did
for
me
what
I've
been
trying
to
do
my
entire
life.
And
all
my
life
people
have
been
trying
to
correct
me
by
working
on
my
mind
and
my
attitude
in
my
head.
Alcoholic
Anonymous
took
the
only
two
things
that
I
had
decent,
decent
left
in
my
life.
My
feet.
They
trained
my
feet.
So
when
my
head
saying
I'm
not
going,
I'm
not
going,
John's
going
to
be
there,
Mike's
going
to
be
there,
Bob's
going
to
be
there,
I'm
not
going,
I'm
not
going.
I'm
down
at
the
meeting.
You've
trained
my
feet.
My
head
no
longer
has
power
over
me.
Alcoholics
Anonymous
is
my
power.
And
regardless
of
what
my
head
says,
I
don't
have
to
believe
it
and
I
don't
have
to
have
conversations
with
it.
You
have
taught
me
what
to
do
and
you've
trained
my
feet.
And
once
I'm
with
you,
you
got
me.
You
got
me.
And
I
thank
you
for
that.
If
you're
new,
I
hope
you're
desperate,
and
I
hope
you're
so
desperate
you
do
things
that
you
know
won't
work
for
you.
And
May
God
be
with
you.
But
more
important
than
that,
I
hope
you
stay
in
these
rooms
and
find
what
we
find
in
these
rooms,
that
little
power.
It's
God's
great
privilege
to
give
you
his
Kingdom,
and
you're
in
it
right
now.
And
I
guarantee
you,
it's
the
God
in
me
that
sees
the
God
in
you.
And
when
we're
together,
something
miraculous
happens.
Something
miraculous,
we
are
relieved
of
the
bondage
itself.
And
what
a
beautiful
feeling
that
is.
Thank
you.