AA Speaker – Matthew M. – Issaquah, WA – 2017
Matthew M. from Washington shares his story of addiction, hitting bottom with a newborn daughter, and finding recovery through AA. A talk about grace, action, and transformation.
Matthew M. from Gig Harbor, Washington got sober on May 16th, 1993, after years as a rock musician, homelessness, and a moment of clarity at a family wedding. In this AA speaker tape, he walks through his descent into alcoholism, the moment his brother confronted him about his disease, and the power of taking action in early sobriety—from his first meeting to rebuilding his life and family.
Matthew M., an AA speaker from Washington, shares his story of addiction that began after being kicked out of a rock and roll band, leading to job losses, homelessness, and suicidal ideation before he found recovery. He describes his moment of clarity at a family wedding where he couldn’t deny his powerlessness, his brother’s intervention on Mother’s Day, and his journey into treatment at age 30. The talk focuses on the role of grace, action, and the amends process in his 30+ years of sobriety, including how small acts of service and willingness to do the next right thing transformed his relationships, his role as a father, and his spiritual awakening.
Episode Summary
Matthew M. doesn’t pull punches about what his life looked like before sobriety. At 30 years old, he weighed 108 pounds, had been fired from a rock and roll band for drinking too much, lost jobs he felt were beneath him, and spent months on his couch with a gun in his mouth. He arrives at a family wedding where his childhood friends are all moving forward with their lives—getting married, building careers—while he’s skinny, unemployed, and hung over. Walking around that reception, the clarity hits hard: he’s a disaster. He can’t avoid it anymore. Then he finds $400 in an abandoned envelope and disappears for two weeks.
Two days later, his brother—who has twelve years sober—calls to ask if he’ll show up for Mother’s Day. Matthew had promised to visit his dying mother at least thirty times and never gone. He stays up all night drinking to prepare for the visit, looks terrible, and ruins Mother’s Day. Angry, ashamed, and suicidal, he calls his brother later that night screaming at him about being treated like a little kid. There’s a moment of grace: his brother quietly says, “Matthew, I think you have a problem with alcoholism.” And out of Matthew’s mouth comes words he didn’t know he’d say: “Of course I do.”
His brother shows up within eight minutes. They go to the beach. Matthew doesn’t get punched; instead, his brother shares his own story—being kicked out of the house at eighteen, living in his car, losing his wife and son. Matthew realizes someone actually understands how he feels. He runs out of cigarettes. Out of pure desperation, he agrees to go to AA. His brother laughs and says, “You’re not going to AA. You’re going to a hospital.” Thirty days.
That day is almost his last. Before rehab, he learns his daughter was born. He goes to the hospital in wrinkled scrubs and flip-flops, finds the wrong hospital first, and when he finally meets his newborn daughter, he feels nothing but disgust at himself. She’s perfect; he’s filthy. He holds her for thirty seconds, lies and says everything will be all right, then prays that God will make sure these two women never see him again because he’s going to hurt them.
His brother is waiting on the porch with a duffel bag and says, “Get in the car.”
Thirty days in treatment change his body—he gains 47 pounds—but not his mind yet. He comes out terrified, with 30 days clean and sober, moves back to his parents’ house, and that first night walks into his apartment to find people doing cocaine and offering him a beer. He doesn’t go in. He runs to a pay phone and calls AA. The volunteer tells him there’s a meeting fifteen minutes away, right across the street. He walks around the block twice because he’s afraid, then goes in.
Everything changes after that first meeting. Matthew goes to three meetings a day for a year. He gets a sponsor who doesn’t coddle him. When Matthew brags about loving his daughter, his sponsor asks, “How much child support do you pay?” Matthew hasn’t paid a dime. His sponsor tells him: this is a program of action, not talk. Show me, don’t tell me.
That conversation humbles Matthew. He calls his daughter’s mother and asks about child support. She suggests a percentage of income. Every two weeks for years, he cashes his paycheck and brings her money. He works loading trucks at night and driving a delivery truck during the day, living in his parents’ bedroom with Eric Clapton posters. He does this not because he’s noble—he does it because he never wants to drink again, and because his daughter is the only spiritual experience he has.
As his sponsor suggested, Matthew starts doing small things for people without telling anyone. He remembers a man’s name at a meeting. A year later, that man—who works for an international airline—hires him. Matthew gets a suit and a job at the airport, and his life starts to move forward. He begins making amends: a man he owes $15,000 to starts receiving $20 checks. Every month, Matthew sends what he can. Seven years later, the man calls and says stop. He’s seen Matthew become a good father, a good son, a good friend. But Matthew’s sponsor tells him the truth: he’s not done. He was living at his parents’ house when he started; he has a good job now. Keep doing what’s working. Matthew continues paying until his father dies and leaves him money. He writes the final $8,000 check—and the man calls back to say that check arrived the exact day his wife told him they were having a baby and needed a down payment. The flake, the animal, got to help.
On the employee bus, Matthew meets a woman named Philippa reading *Surprised by Joy*. She shuts him down—hard. But grace shows up again. She comes back, apologizes, and suggests coffee. Two weeks later, she proposes. They marry on a lawn in Illinois with his mother, father, brother, and the man he’d wronged as his best man.
But sobriety doesn’t mean life becomes perfect. Five years into marriage, Philippa suffers a massive stroke and becomes permanently paralyzed and brain damaged. Matthew becomes her full-time caregiver. This is where his spiritual practice deepens. His sponsor taught him early on: when the alarm goes off, God’s saying get up; when a bill comes, pay it; when someone needs help, help them. Matthew learns that living in the present moment—in reality, not in his perception of how things should be—is always perfect, even in darkness.
Matthew closes with a correction to newcomers: people tell you “everything’s going to be all right,” and it sounds like a lie. But what we’re really saying is this—we know you’re scared, we know you’ve been a bad friend to yourself, we know you’ve made wrong decisions. But if you do the work and stay close to us, no matter what happens, you’re going to be all right. And after thirty years, Matthew knows it’s true.
Notable Quotes
I wanted to stop drinking long before I could stop drinking.
Do not mistake your perception for reality.
This is a program of action. This is not a program of talk.
When the alarm clock goes off, God’s saying, ‘Get up.’ When a bill comes in the mail, God’s right over your shoulder going, ‘Hey, pay that amount.’
Reality is always perfect. It’s always perfect. It’s never not perfect.
I did this tiny thing, tiny thing to help another person and God came running towards me. I’ve seen it 10 million times.
Sponsorship
Making Amends
Steps 8 & 9 – Making Amends
Early Sobriety
Topics Covered in This Transcript
- Step 3 – Surrender
- Sponsorship
- Making Amends
- Steps 8 & 9 – Making Amends
- Early Sobriety
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Full AA Speaker Transcript
This transcript was auto-generated and may contain minor errors. For the best experience, listen to the audio above.
Welcome to Sober Sunrise, a podcast bringing you AA speaker meetings with stories of experience, strength, and hope from around the world. We bring you several new speakers weekly, so be sure to subscribe. We hope to always remain an ad-free podcast, so if you'd like to help us remain self-supporting, please visit our website at sober-onrise.com.
Whether you join us in the morning or at night, there's nothing better than a sober sunrise. We hope that you enjoy today's speaker. On behalf of Saturday Night Live at Pine Lake speaker meeting, please help me welcome tonight's speaker, Matthew M from Gig Harbor.
>> Well, good luck with that. >> Uh, thank you. My name is Matthew.
I'm an alcoholic. Pixie wanted me to assure you that I'm actually an out of town speaker. I just moved here.
I don't want my credibility to drop or anything because I live in Washington now. Um, it's a pleasure to be here. Thank you, Pixie.
Thank you, Mark, for inviting me. Um, I I love Alcoholics Anonymous. I always feel honored when I get an opportunity to try to do this.
Um, I can tell you from the outset that I will fail at describing to you what's happened to me at Alcoholics Anonymous. Um, my sobriety dates May 16th, 1993. And after about 1995, the expansiveness and the gifts were more internal and indescribable.
So, we're stuck with the story. And I'll do my best to convey to you what recovery means to me and what my experiences with it. And I I love Alcoholics Anonymous so much and I joke about this, but it's actually true.
If you pick up anything in my house, including my children, and turn it upside down, it says property of Alcoholics Anonymous on the bottom. And uh you know, some people circumcise we brand and uh just don't want to lose them. But uh I I also really try to make an effort um when I when I have the opportunity to do this is to really talk a little bit about what it was like and and describe what happened and and all the things that have happened in recovery because I love recovery and recovery is really what we're here to talk about.
And one time Patty yelled at me because she said you have to tell them what it was like so that they know you're really an alcoholic and then they can trust you. Um, so in honor of Patio, I'm going to tell you about a wedding I went to about 6 months before I got sober. And hopefully that'll describe to you enough of what it was like.
Um, by this time that this wedding happened, I had been unemployed or I like to say I'd been fired from the last job that was beneath me. Um, a few months before that. Um, and this wedding I've been sitting on my couch drinking and sometimes at night I would put a gun in my mouth and pray that I could shoot myself because I didn't know how I wound up where I had wound up.
Um, when I got sober on May 16th, 1993, I weighed 108 pounds and I weigh 169. Well, 172. I just weighed myself yesterday.
Uh, water weight. Uh, that's what I tell myself. I weigh 172 pounds now and I'm not any taller than I was on May 16th.
Um, so I don't know. I was kind of skinny before I went to this wedding. I don't know what what I weighed.
I got weighed on my way into rehab. That's how I know that. Um, but this wedding I had gone to a small Catholic school in Roondo Beach uh in the 70s, which is a very confusing thing.
Uh it's confusing anyway I think but walking to school at the beach in Redander Beach in the 70s and the sexual revolution is happening and anybody see uh Fast Times at Ridgemont High. >> Yeah. Cameron Crow enrolled in Redando Union High School which is right across from my Catholic school to write that movie.
So that's what was happening when I was walking in my uniform to Catholic school and they would throw rocks at us the people from Roondo High. So, I was a persecuted Christian in the 70s and I didn't really care that much about the Catholic religion. My parents just sent me to this school, you know.
So, I didn't I was very confused. Um, and it all led to all sorts of god problems later when AA happened. But, um, but the point of telling you that is I was I had very close friends.
I had five very close friends from first grade on because when you're a persecuted Christian in a small school, you you bond together. And um and these one of these guys, I'm 30 years old now. One of these guys is getting married.
So these are my friends I've had since kindergarten. There are six of us and five other guys. And and I've heard a lot in AA.
I've heard a lot from the podiums. And I had it too that I felt like these guys were smarter than me, better looking than me, more talented than me, better at sports than me. I thought they hung out with me out of pity.
I felt like I everybody knew something I didn't know when I was young. We still hang out together whenever we can. And if they do hang out with me out of pity, they're incredibly good people because I'm 54 and uh they've been doing this for quite a long time.
But I just felt that way. And so, but as I grew up, my mother and father who were very kind and loving people used to say, "Hey, you really pick good friends. You have good friends.
They're good guys." And they're headed in the right direction. And I have a brother who's an alcoholic and uh he did not pick good friends. And I went to this wedding.
I'm really skinny. I haven't haven't worked in several months. I'm hung over and I I go to this wedding and and all my good friends are there.
All the people I grew up with there. All my parents' friends are there. And I don't know if you've ever experienced this.
I have a feeling you probably have if you're in this room, but I felt this clarity that I couldn't avoid that I was a disaster. I was listening tonight be you know I'm powerless my powers of rock alcohol a I'm pal alcohol in my life is unmanageable was clear and it became really clear like I can keep that at bay pretty well. I have some pretty good baffles for that.
But at that wedding, looking at these people who were all getting married and moving on with their lives and had good jobs and and I was actually had been a rock and roll musician for 11 years on the road. And um I think all I need to say about what it was like for me is I got thrown out I got kicked out of a rock and roll band for drinking too much. I thought I picked a safe career and uh but that's hard to do.
And uh but I did that. I'm I'm accomplished. And uh so I was the rock and roll musician on the road.
I was making albums and then I came back and I lost a couple jobs that were beneath me and I wind up at this wedding and I'm I'm at the wedding and I go to the reception. I don't even drink cuz I'm so full of like clarity. It wasn't even self-loathing.
It was just like oh my god it was just so clear all of a sudden that I had real real problems that I couldn't avoid and that alcohol and drugs I'm you know 70s were uh part of that and a big part of that. So, I wasn't even drinking at the reception. I remember sitting at the table at the reception looking at all these people and thinking, you know, my mother is dying of cancer in this town and I haven't visited her in several months.
And I really love my mother. And if I had a couple of hundred bucks, I could get my gas turned back on at my house. I could get a job.
I could start doing the right thing. And it just seemed like all of a sudden I felt like I could do that. And I looked at my date and I remember being embarrassed about my date.
remember thinking, God, you know, she's way too young for me. I'm with all my friends and I have to break up with this girl, which was going to be really awkward because she was 6 months pregnant and uh I'm not running for president. I'm speaking at an AA meeting.
Uh I don't really know what you expected, but uh I don't want to lie to you. That's what I thought. I'd be kind of useless.
Um but I did. I actually thought, how am I going to dump this girl like now, you know? And uh I don't care what you think of me.
Um but uh so I I I think if I had $200, if I could get my gas turned on, if I could figure out how to end this relationship, if I could get a job, if God, you know, I want to be like these people. I want to be like them, like I used to be. And it was so clear and it was so powerful.
And I remember thinking, I got to go call my mother right now. And my mother and father were still married and they were married for 50 years. And I and I went into this.
It was a big Marriott. It's actually where they have the convention in in Southern California, but had a lot of ballrooms. It was geared for this kind of stuff.
And I think there was like a wedding reception that I was at and there was a bar mitzvah and there was another wedding reception. And I walked into this this like little room boot like wall of phone booth. And I'm and I'm thinking, I'm just going to call my mother.
I'm going to tell her I love her. I'm going to go see her after this wedding. I'm going to tell her all about it.
I'm going to get a couple hundred bucks and get my gas turned on and I'm going to I'm going to start living right like I used to live. And I really knew that I was gonna and I I picked up the phone and I started dialing my mother's number and I looked down underneath the phone and there was an envelope just randomly in this phone book phone booth. And I I opened it up and it had four $100 bills in it, some probably a wedding gift or bar mitzvah gift that somebody forgot.
And I hung up the phone and I walked right out the door and I disappeared for two weeks. That's what it was like for me. I wanted to stop drinking long before I could stop drinking and I wanted to stop doing all the other unmanageable stuff.
You know, I didn't get kicked out of that band because I li I drank too much. I got kicked out of that band because I drank too much and all the behavior that went with that. So, on May 16th, 1993, um well, actually, I should tell you, May 14th, my my brother calls and he says, "Hey, it's Mother's Day tomorrow." and he said, 'I know you're having car trouble.
Now, I come from an Irish Catholic family and we're very polite. And my car trouble was I had the key to a car and that was it. I just didn't know what a car was.
And uh and we don't like to offend anybody, so we call that car trouble in an Irish family. And uh he said, "I know you're having car trouble." and he said, "So, I just want to make sure you show up for mom's mother's day." He said, 'We think it might be her last.' And I remember thinking, why would he say, "We want to make sure you're going to show up." Like, I'm already mad, right? I'm the youngest of four in an Irish Catholic family.
I'm the youngest by seven years, and they're all a year apart. I have a feeling I was unplanned, but no one ever lets out in my, you know, and in an Irish family, if there's an elephant in the living room, we make a coffee table out of it. So, that's how I grew up.
And um and I remember thinking, why would he think I'm not going to show up? So, I'm already mad and it isn't even Mother's Day yet. And I hang up the phone and I did not realize that I had been calling my mother in the morning, in the afternoon, sometimes at night, and saying, "Mom, I I want to come see you.
I'm going to come visit you." And I remember vaguely doing that a couple of times. And she would say the same thing every time. She would say, "That would be lovely, darling.
and I never went. I didn't go once and apparently I called about 30 times. So that's why my brother said, "We just want to make sure you're going to make it." Now, my brother was 12 years sober at the time.
And nobody really knew what was wrong with me. I have two degrees from a good university. I played in a reputable rock and roll band.
And I had a couple jobs that I couldn't seem couldn't seem to stay with. But I wasn't going around, so nobody knew what was wrong with me. So my brother comes the next day to pick me up.
And you know, the plan was, you know, go get flowers, go get a really good Mother's Day card, take a shower, put clean clothes on, you know, stuff like you do for people. And uh but what happened was I stayed up all night drinking again. And I looked out the window and there's this car.
And I can't believe it. I look at my watch and go, "God, I don't have flowers. I don't have a card.
I haven't taken a shower in a long time." So, I ran into my room and I put a clean shirt on and I ran outside and I got in his car and he looked at me and he was stunned. And I didn't know why. You know, all I don't know about you, I don't know what they do in Washington, but all the mirrors in my house were on the tables facing up.
So, I didn't really know how I looked. Don't judge me. whatever.
But uh I didn't know that I looked terrible. I didn't know you could see my skull. So I got in a car and he drove me to Mother's Day and I ruined it.
I don't know what I did, but I ruined it. I know that we left early. I'm kind of grateful that I don't know what I did.
I remember they looked at me and everybody turned away from me and my brother drove me home and he uh dropped me off and we were arguing when he dropped me off and I don't know what we're arguing about. We've actually since talked about it and neither one of us can remember and I remember getting out of his car and I'm angry still and I go into my house and I'm thinking I'm sick of being the little brother. I'm sick of losing all the arguments.
I'm sick of everybody being so condescending to me. And this is what I love about alcoholics and alcoholism. I weigh 108 pounds.
I've stolen money from everybody I know. I have warrants out for my arrest. I have people who want to kill me who have warrants out for their arrest.
It's very layered in my life. And uh and I felt like I had the moral higher ground. Anybody relate to that?
Yeah. So, I was lining up my arguments. I'm pacing around my living room and, you know, stepping over empty bottles and like fast food containers, really angry that my brother, who's sober and clean and lovely and smart and honest, is such a jerk.
And and I I call him up and I just I waited till he got home. And I lived at Redondo Beach, right on the beach. In fact, I lived like where that door is.
It was down a hill, but the ocean was down there. And I was kind of a night owl. And uh I remember I used to walk around my apartment and go, "What is that noise?" He goes, you know, constant.
And uh I remember I I oiled my screen door once, like every 15 minutes one night as an obsessive compulsive exercise. Turns out it was the ocean. Uh did not know cuz I didn't visit it.
I uh stayed in my apartment, but I wait till my brother gets all the way back to Lawndale, which is about 20 minutes, 25 minutes, and I call him up and I just started screaming at him and I lined up all my arguments. And there was a lot coming out of me, a volcano of a lifetime of being told that I was going through a phase, you know, and I went off on him. And I I it wasn't a discussion, it was a diet tribe.
And when I got done yelling at him, I was standing there and this moment of grace happened. And I was told early in sobriety by my sponsor that grace is an unwarranted gift that you didn't earn. And this moment of grace happened.
I'm standing there screaming at him and I run out of steam and then quietly into the phone he says, "Matthew, I think you have a problem with alcoholism." That wasn't the grace. Okay, I had been fired from this job. The day I got fired from that job, I was a manager of a restaurant and I got fired from the job and a waitress, my least favorite waitress, came up and said she's pregnant with my child.
I know, I know I'm not a nice person. I hope that's clear. I'm feel all this judgment, but uh and I had been raised with wonderful examples, right?
My dad taught me to work hard. My dad was one of the best people I ever met in my life. He was a war hero.
He fought in the Battle of the Bulge. She had a Bronze Star. My dad adored and worshiped my mother.
My mother was not boisterous Irish person. She was a quiet Irish woman and she was observant. And she was the reason I played guitar because when I was a little kid and I wasn't getting picked for the team, she was a teacher watching me.
and she came over and said, "Hey, do you want to play an instrument?" And it changed everything in my life. She was sensitive to me and my father treated her like she just he taught me how to treat women and my mother had this quiet dignity. And when that waitress was 8 and a half months pregnant, I pushed her down a flight of stairs.
Now, I didn't want to hurt her. Of course, I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to hurt that baby.
Who would want to hurt an unborn baby? But she said, "We need to go to the doctor today. Maybe you shouldn't." I think she said, "Party or drink or get high or whatever she said." And I heard her scream at me to stop drinking, which isn't what happened.
I know that now. But I just grabbed her wrists and I just wanted her to get out of the doorway so I could close the door and I pushed her too hard and I you know that feeling when you know you did that and I slammed the door so I wouldn't have responsibility and I went and I drank a whole bottle of gin and I never looked to see what happened. So the moment of grace wasn't that my brother said I think you have alcoholism.
The moment of grace was what happened next. I'm standing there with this phone in my hand looking at the floor and out of my mouth, much to my surprise, comes the words, "Of course I do." And I didn't know I was going to say that. And I can tell you today, that was 23 years ago, almost 24 years ago.
And I can tell you today what that phone felt like in my hand. I can tell you what was on the floor and the grain shag carpeting. I can tell you what the dust mites look like or the dust in the Venetian blinds slicing through the air with the light.
And the reason I think I can tell you that is because for just a minute I stepped into the present moment and I told the truth and I hadn't been in the present moment for years. And I said, "Of course I do." And then being a comic family, my brother responded with the funniest thing. anybody's ever said to me.
He said, "Don't go anywhere." And I go, "Oh, okay. I was going to move to that end of the couch in October, but if you got a plan, I'll wait here. I hadn't gone anywhere.
I lived right next door to a liquor store. Subconscious alcoholic apartment shopping, right? That guy at that liquor store was so great.
I remember went over there once. I used to dig for change and pawn my guitars and I'd go over there in my pajamas and towards the end I bought some liquor and he goes, "Matthew, you got a problem and your problem tells you that you don't have a problem." And I go, "What are you, the Riddler? I just want to buy this." And then I walked home going, "What does he mean?
I got a lot of problems. I know all about my problems. you know, warrants and tigers and bears.
And uh my brother says, "Don't go anywhere." And one of the most beautiful parts of the story is he was on my porch in like 8 minutes and he lived a half hour away. I remember being quite surprised. I I had some drinking to do.
And there he was. And uh and I don't want to describe my apartment cuz I did that once and I've regretted it ever since. But he uh he walked in and he inhaled and went, "Let's go to the beach.
I don't know. I was a bachelor." But uh we go down to the beach and uh I thought my brother was going to take me to the beach and kick my ass and we I'd never drink again because we had other ways we taught things in Irish Catholic families among my brothers and I. And he didn't do that.
And I kind of wished he would. You know, I don't know how you felt the day before you got sober, but I felt so ugly inside and like I was a huge secret and I just wish someone would punch me in the face. Someone.
And I thought, well, this is going to happen. And we went down to the beach and we sat on this lifeguard stand and he started talking to me about how he felt the day my mother and father kicked him out of our house when he was 18. And I remember that cuz I was 11 years old and I couldn't believe we did that to one of our own.
But he'd put us through hell. And I start relaxing a little and lightening my 15th cigarette. And uh he starts talking to me about how he felt when his wife and his son kicked him out of their their house.
And I remember that cuz I was 14. And he called me. He had no one left in the world to call but his little brother.
And I remember I said to him that day, "Why don't you stop drinking?" And he said, "You don't understand." And I didn't. And then he started telling me how he felt when he lived in his car. And I remember when he lived in his car because I was in high school and I used to if I had to take my my guitar and amp to school, I'd say, "Dad, can I borrow your car?" And I go super early in the morning and I drive around and look for my brother.
My brother had a newcomer apartment. It was a 52 gray primer gray Cadillac with fence. Great apartment, huge.
And uh it was like a two-bedroom apartment. And uh I would find it sometimes, sometimes I couldn't. And I would just look in and if he was in it and if he breathed, he was always asleep, I'd leave, I'd just know he's okay.
And if he wasn't there, I just leave a note. I love you, Matthew. And my brother starts talking to me about how I feel sitting on that lifeguard stand.
And I don't even know he's doing it. And I don't think anybody on earth knows how I feel. And here he is, my own brother.
Now, I'd like to tell you that I had a moment of clarity and surrendered and but I ran out of cigarettes. It's the truth. That's why I'm here.
I ran out of cigarettes and he kept talking. And I don't know about you, but I need like stepping stones of stuff to put in me so I can put up with you. And uh the booze is back at the apartment and we're stuck at the lifeguard stand and I'm out of cigarettes.
So, out of desperation, I said, "You know, you're right, man. I I you're right. and I got to go to AA.
And he he kind of nar he looked down at me and he laughed. He like the wise Buddha disappeared and he laughed and he goes, "Dude, you're not going to AA. You're going to a hospital." And I said, "A a hospital?
That sounds like pretty extreme." I'm like, "How how long do I have to go to a hospital?" He goes, "I don't know, like 30 days." I'm like, "Dude, I can't do that. I'm busy." Anybody else busy? >> I hadn't left that couch >> for 7 months, but 30 days, you know, and I always joke about this, but I don't know what I was This is what I like.
Who's not going to pay my bills? I'm that guy who's not going to answer my phone. That's my job.
I don't answer that phone. I don't know what what am I thinking? I can't leave all this, you know.
And uh he ignored me, thank God. And but then a poignant moment happened. We walked up to my apartment and he looked at me for a long time standing on the porch and he said, "Hey man, please don't die." I remember thinking, "He knows about the gun." And I was so embarrassed that anyone knew that a Mitchell was putting a gun in their mouth at night.
Cuz here's my brother, shiny, clean brother, you know. And all I wanted in my life was to get to his side of the lifeguard stand. I wanted to be honest.
I wanted to do what I said I was going to do once. But he didn't know about the gun. He later told me, "Man, you look like you were about to die." He said, 'Alholics die with enlarged hearts from heart attacks.
There's all sorts of ways they die. He goes, "Your frame wasn't going to take this any longer." And I didn't realize I'd been doing this for years. And I didn't realize how bad it was.
And he'd seen it. And on May 16th, 1993, the phone rang. And the only reason I answered it is I thought it was my brother who was coming to get me.
And it wasn't my brother. It was this woman. Uh, and she said, "Hey, we've been looking for you.
Your daughter was born this morning. Can you come to the hospital?" And I can tell you honestly, I had forgotten about them. And I said, "Yes, of course.
Of course." Now, I had passed out. I'd been up all night getting ready for rehab. We're not slackers for God's sakes.
You know, people think we're worthless. We're not worthless. We just have different values.
And uh I had passed out apparently on a big gulp, but I didn't know why. My back was sticky, you know, it's a circumstance. And I had uh these O scrubs on because we used to wear those like 10 years before that to the beach.
And I had a t-shirt with a big hole in it and I thought I looked like Marlon Brando, but uh I look like a boat person. And I had flip-flops on so I was ready to go to the maternity ward. And uh I grabbed my key to the car and I ran out into the sunlight and boy it was punishing that sunlight.
It was my head really hurt and I didn't know where the car was. I thought this was a feudal exercise. And I ran around Bondo Beach in the punishing sunlight and I found the car and then I remembered why I lost it.
It was an AMC. So I got in the car and it started up. Lots of grace happening today.
It started I had a whole bunch of parking tickets on my windshield which I put back with their cousins in the back seat. But in Red Beach you usually get towed or booted and I didn't. Lots of grace.
Lots of grace. And you know if you read the big book as often as I've read the big book and I'm sure the people who come to a meeting like this are actively sponsoring people. It says in many ways and sometimes directly in the big book that the problem about with an alcoholic is they're selfish and self-centered.
Right. Well, this is a great example of that because I started up that car and I drove to the hospital where I was born. It's where babies come from.
And uh as far as I knew and they weren't there and my towering 108 lb frame could not intimidate the volunteer elderly lady into finding them in the hospital where they weren't. And she kept saying, "You can yell at me all you want, sir. They're not here." But I was yelling at her cuz I couldn't be this much of a failure.
I couldn't take it anymore. Everything I did. So I went out in the car and I put my head on the steering wheel.
I just started crying like, "God damn, you can't even go to the hospital, right?" And then in my head comes bing bing bing bing bing, the name of the hospital. And I drove to the right hospital and I ran upstairs and I ran down the hall because I have to get to the next thing. I have to get to the next thing.
I got my lizard brain going. I'm not thinking what I'm going to do. I'm not prepared for what's about to happen.
I'm just doing the next task. And I run into this room and there's Anna. And I don't know if any of you have seen a woman who's just had a baby, but she looks like a Picasso.
like her eyes are over here and she's got like this elephant man like boob thing going on and uh and her hair was like matted to her head and uh and I didn't particularly like Anna, but I'd never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life. She was radiating from the inside. And she got up.
She was so happy to see me. And the last time I saw her, I pushed her down a flight of stairs and she was happy to see me. So, I felt awful.
And then she starts coming at me and I thought, "Please don't hug me. Please don't hug me. My back's all sticky.
I don't know why I have a I'm not really appropriately dressed. I just suddenly realized." And uh she stopped. Grace, lots of grace.
and she turned and there was this rectangular plexiglass box and she pulled out Phoebe Rose and she handed me this beautiful girl. And I always wish when I get to this part of the story I could tell you that I felt an overwhelming love for that child but I didn't. I didn't feel anything.
I felt disgusting. I felt like they are beautiful and perfect and innocent and true and I'm filthy disgusting animal and I don't belong here. And I held Phoebe for about 30 seconds and the first thing I said in front of my daughter was a lie.
I handed her back to Anna and I said everything's going to be all right. And I was really thinking I have to go home and shoot myself. And I ran out.
I was with him for a minute and I ran out and I prayed on my way down the stairwell. God, please make it so these two women never see me again cuz I'm going to do something to them. And I don't know what it is, but it's going to be bad.
And I got to my apartment. I was all ready for plan A with the gun. And I get to my apartment and my brother's standing on my porch with a devil bag.
He always always messes up my plans since I was little. And uh he goes, "Where have you been?" And I said, "My daughter was born." And he kind of looked at his shoes and he said, "Get in the car. I packed your stuff." Grace, grace, grace, grace.
And I go out in the car. Scariest day of my life, walking into that hospital. Anybody remember what the second scariest day is?
Walking out. 30 days later, I gained 47 pounds at the hospital. They weigh you on your way in and the guy went, "Whoa." And then they weigh you on the way out.
Same guy went, "Whoa." He says, "You gained 47 pounds." Said, "Wow, I was impressed." But my body went, "Thank you, God. No more gin and those little white donuts, you know." And uh and I just ate food and slept and did like what normal people did. And uh my brother drove me home and I was terrified.
I was terrified. I felt like I just met my best friends for life. at the 30-day rehab.
And uh I got to my apartment. Anybody else? Yeah.
I don't even know where those people are. But uh and then my brother, he pulls, it's two hours from my house. He drives up to my apartment and he opens the door and he goes, "Hey man, go to a meeting." And I remember thinking, "These AA people are a little intense.
I've been in a hospital for 30 days. I haven't seen Phoebe. I haven't seen my mother.
I owe the IRS. I have to get a job. I have to cure cancer.
I'm very very my huge to-do list. But I lie. I lie.
And I said, "Yeah, I was g that's what I was going to do." Total lie. And I walk up to my apartment and I open the door and somebody hands me a beer. Actually, it wasn't a beer.
It was a Kors. And uh you guys are from Washington. That's not beer, right?
And uh and they're snorting cocaine on my convenient mirrors. And uh they're smoking pot. And I lived in that apartment by myself.
And I look in there and I think just for a second and I back up and I put the beer on my porch and I ran away. Who here's in your first year of sobriety? Raise your hand.
I want to tell you something. I want to be really honest in case you haven't noticed. I have no shame.
I did not have a connection to a higher power or foundation of recovery when that happened. I had 30 days clean and sober and I made this calculation. All I've got in the world is 30 days and I don't want to lose it to these people.
That's what it was. Like I didn't know if I was going to see the Riddler at the liquor store. >> I didn't know.
I just knew I wasn't going in there. And I put the beer down and I ran to a pay phone. I ran to a pay phone booth.
A lot of young people in here. They're glass and they're uh shaped like uh shaped like spaceships and uh they got doors. It's so hard to describe, you know, Google it.
Uh and I called Alcoholics Anonymous and I told the guy almost everything I've told you and I've been talking for about half an hour. I was like, you know, I got Rockstar God, baby. Ah, you know, of course.
And uh and the guy was so great. He like, "Yeah, I couldn't get a word in, you know." And then he goes, "Where are you?" And I go, "Well, I'm on the corner Beach Boulevard in Bur." I could see they're glass, these things. And I looked out and and he and he flips through these papers.
I could hear it through the phone. He goes, "Oh my god, that's so weird." And I said, "What?" And he said, "There's an AA meeting right across the street from where you're standing. It starts in 15 minutes." Grace, grace, grace, grace, grace.
And I said, "So, what do you think I should do? Like I kind of explained that I have problems. I don't have my fez.
I'm not going to your meeting. And it turned out I didn't lie to my brother. Grace, grace, grace.
I walked into that meeting. Actually, I walked around the block cuz I was afraid. And then I went in the meeting and everything changed.
So I have a half an hour to tell you about recovery. So that night, it's important to say that night, um, I sat in that meeting and it was a big speaker meeting like this. It was called Stompers.
It's not there anymore. And the guy was wearing a tie. I didn't know why.
And, uh, there's lots of people there. There's like 300 people there. And the guy put his hands on the podium and he started talking.
And I'll never forget what he said. He said, "What?" And you guys are all like, "Yeah, man." Hitting me. And I thought, I am so screwed.
I can't even understand that guy. Anybody have that feeling? I Yeah, right on.
He's having it right now. And uh and then I remember just for a second I he turned and he goes, "These are tools for living." And I thought, I have a degree in literature. I can read, right?
And I start reading these steps that for some reason at this meeting were written in Chinese. I'm like, well, I came to believe I got problems. I have issues this I don't even what you know.
So, I'm totally screwed. And I get up and leave. The meeting's over and I'm walking out and this friend of my brothers came up and he goes, "Hey, are you Neil's little brother?" And I said, "Yeah." And he goes, "I heard you look like crap." And I go, "Well, that was 30 days ago." And he goes, "Can I give you a ride home?" I said, "Yeah, great." And I ran here.
And uh we're walking out and he's walking to the parking lot and I'm slowing down and he's walking normally and I'm slowing down. He turns around. He goes, "What's your problem?" And I go, "Well, I don't I can't really go home." And he said, "Why not?" And I told him about the the beer and the cocaine.
And then he thought for a second and he goes, "Don't your parents live near here?" And I said, "Yeah, yeah." And he said, "Well, I can take you to your parents'." And I said, "No, man. you can't take me to my parents. Now, everybody who raised your hand in your first year, I want to tell you something that it took me years to learn and it's really valuable and I'm not kidding.
There was my perception of what that was going to be like and my perception was based on reality based on reality like based on a true story um was that those people have been married to each other at that time for 45 years. My mother's dying of cancer. Their loser son with an illegitimate kid across town, fresh out of rehab, is not showing up on their porch tonight.
I have embarrassed them enough. It would be awful for them. It would be humiliating for me beyond belief.
It's the worst possible thing that can happen. That's my perception. So, the guy um dropped me off at my parents house.
You guys don't listen to newcomers, it turns out. and my brother was from a really good AA group and they knew my mom was dying of cancer and they did stuff like paint my parents' house and help my dad out so they knew where they lived. I didn't tell them and he dropped me off and I walked up to the porch and I wanted to disappear.
I was so embarrassed and I didn't know I had nowhere left to live. I had nothing of my my belongings and I'm standing there and my parents are from the Midwest. They my parents are from Chicago.
So they come to the door together and my mom's strapped to oxygen. So I stood out there for what seemed like an eternity. It was probably five minutes and they came to the door and they opened the door and they were glad to see me.
It came out of their eyes. So remember the perception. So reality was my parents were married to each other for 45 years and they were beside each other because my mother was dying of cancer and the one thing that they were laying awake worrying about and praying for showed up on their porch and said, "Will you help me?" It was perfect.
It couldn't have been better. My perception was it was the worst possible thing in the world. My sponsor has frequently said, "Matthew, do not mistake your perception for reality.
So, I moved in there and it wasn't fun. You know, my dad took me back to my old bedroom, which now had all his camera stuff in it. He emptied out one drawer and fortunately left they left a life-sized poster of Eric Clapton that I had put up there when I was 12.
And I'm like, I'm back. And uh I got it, had a good run, and here I am, you know. And uh and I I know it sounds funny, but I talk to Eric almost every night.
It was either that or mom and dad depression era, you know, and bad stuff's happening. So, I would go to my room and sit there and talk to myself, but I'd pretend he was listening. And I got up that morning, that early that morning, I'm like, "No, it's not a nightmare.
I live at my parents house." I thought it was all a dream. And I ran out. My dad's having breakfast.
I go, "Dad, I think there's a meeting. I got this meeting directory. I think there's a meeting at 7:00 in the morning.
Can I go to the meeting with your car?" And he said, "Hey, if you're going to AA, don't even ask me." because my brother lived in his car and my brother had a house and children and did what he said he was going to do and was an honorable honest man. My dad knew the power of this program. He said, "If you're going to a meeting, don't even ask me.
I just wanted to get away from the uncomfortable place." And then I get in my car and I I I don't want to go anywhere but right to that meeting. I don't want to lose my 32nd day. And I drove to the meeting and then I found out this is the more uncomfortable place.
You all know what want means. And uh everybody's in on it and I'm not in on it. Everybody's grateful.
I'm not grateful. I was a rock star a year ago. And now I live at my mom's and dad's house with nothing.
So I would go and listen and hang out and get all wound up and feel weird and I'd go back to the uncomfortable place that I lived. Grace, grace, grace, grace. It motivated me to go to meetings.
I would take just enough of mom and dad, jump in the car and go to a noon meeting. I went to three meetings a day for like a year and then slowly over time I became a man in my parents house. I told you my father was a warrior.
We fought the battle of the bulge. He used to lean against me and sob like what am I going to do without your mother? I got to be that guy.
I got to help him dress my mom. My mom saw me become a better and better and better person because of you. Couple things that happened in early sobriety.
I always try to honor a little deal I made with God. Well, one of the thing I should tell you is I had a real problem with God when I got here because I went to Catholic school. I was raised by the witches of God, nuns.
They wear scary black outfits. You right. They're otherworldly.
I remember when I was 14, I was president of the class of my eighth grade class, and I'm sitting in the front row, and Sister Dennis Anne, who used to rock the podium because she was so tightly wound, and she goes, "If you're even thinking about sex, you're going to hell." And I went, "Oh my god." And then I looked around and thought, "Geez, it's going to be crowded." Cuz all we ever talk about is sex. And sometimes when I brush my teeth and forget to think about it, but I'm 14 for God's sake. I got all these hormones and I think I'm going to hell.
I believed Sister Dennis Anne. So when I got here, I thought God hated me. And there was the 11 step.
And the 11th step says prayed only for knowledge of God's will for me and the power to carry that out. Now I was doing these steps. I was really doing them.
I went to a meeting where you didn't celebrate birthdays. You celebrated fifth steps. I was the second meeting I went to in Alcoholics Anonymous.
I went every week. It was so cool. I got fooled into wanting to do a fifth step because I thought everybody did them and everybody seemed so relieved.
So I did that and I I and they were tools for living and I was shouting at the Chinese wall and you know I'm in. But the 11 step I'm like what? What?
prayed only for knowledge of God's will for me, which is a smoking hole in my chair and the desire to carry that out. I don't know what to do. And I went to my sponsor and I said, "I don't like this step.
I don't even understand this step." And he goes, "Just don't worry about it. Keep making your amends." And then I came back and go, "Look, I really my life's changing. I don't get this." And he said, "You know, I think you make too big of a deal out of these things.
I think you think too much." And my immediate response, a lot of people have told me I think too much. And my immediate response is, "What does that mean? I don't know what that means." And he said, "Look, Matthew, when the alarm clock goes off, God's saying, "Get up." When Phoe's diaper needs changing, God's saying, "Time to change the baby." When a bill comes in the mail and says, "Pay this amount." God's right over your shoulder going, "Hey, pay that amount." God just wants you to do the next indicated thing and you can be perfectly secure that you're doing his will.
Now, I know that sounds simple and I really feel badly that if there is a heaven and my dad gets to hear this talk, he must be going, "Jesus Christ, you needed someone to tell you that. I tried to show you that, right?" But when my sponsor told me that, it was like the roof came off. I was like, "Ah, I can do that." And I got up when the alarm clock.
I was pretty cheerful. At one time in a meeting, I I went to a meeting and I was praying that that prayer, you know, um uh relieve me of the bondage of self that I might better do thy will. Because my understanding is when I did the four step, resentment, fear, sex, all the sexual stuff, that's the bondage of self.
And I want relief from that. and I'm 23 years sober and I practice the 11st step like nobody's business. I built a cabin in my woods and I go there every morning at 5:30 in the morning and I meditate for half an hour with seven guys around the country every day and I don't know what I'd do without it.
But I told my sponsor, hey, I'm praying that prayer and you know ask God's, you know, relief from the bondage of self. And he used to smoke cigars and he goes, you know what, Matthew? Why don't you relieve yourself of the bondage of self?
I'm like, I don't even know what that means. And he said, well, why don't you do something for somebody and don't tell anybody? Why don't you start doing nice things and being a stand-up guy and be other centered a little bit and don't tell anybody?
And I I really did think, why would anyone do that? Because I'm not that honorable a person left to my own devices. But that night in the Hermosa Beach Monday night men's stag where there's a hundred guys every Monday night, my old home group, I walk in and we said, "Is there anybody visiting from out of town?" This guy raised his hand says, "My name's Kevin.
I'm visiting from Australia. I'll be here once a month." And I thought, "My altruistic act will be to remember that guy's name. Then I'm relieved of the bondage of self and we can carry on with this spiritual program." And uh I'm not a complicated guy.
So, but another thing that happened early in sobriety is when I was about 3 months sober, I was with my sponsor. He drove me to meetings. I was walking in a meeting and I said, you know, I thought it was the worst thing in the world having this baby 3 months ago.
And now I'm 90 days sober and I can't believe how much I love this little girl. And my sponsor walked right by me into the meeting. And I went in there and I thought, I did not know he was deaf in his left ear.
And I went into the meeting and I I need reassurance. I'm self-centered. And I'm looking at him like, "Smile at me.
Make me feel better." And uh and he didn't. And on the way out to his car, I go, you know, I stopped him in this parking lot. I go, "Maybe you don't understand.
Maybe you don't get it because you don't have kids, but I think I might love Phoebe more than I love myself." And he goes, "Hold on. How much child support do you pay?" And I go, 'Well, I work at a newspaper folding, you know, stacking newspapers on a loading dock at night and I drive a delivery truck during the day and I live at my mom's and dad's house. And he said, 'N no, that's your circumstances.
I want to know how much child support you pay. And I said, "Well, I don't pay any." And he goes, "Then you're full of it, aren't you?" And I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "Matthew, you go to 10 gazillion meetings a week. You must know by now that this is a program of action.
This is not a program of talk. Why don't you never tell me you love your daughter again and show me? We had a real quiet drive home.
I was planning his death and he was living in the present moment. And I got home. I walked right back to my room.
I slammed the door. I said, "Eric, my sponsor's a dick." And I'm pacing around my room thinking about what a jerk my sponsor is. What a jerk my sponsor is.
I can't believe that I have to get a new sponsor. That means I got to kill this one cuz I already told him some stuff. And I come around the corner and Eric's just sitting there wisely with a Stratacaster.
And there's a suggestion in the air that maybe I'm this upset because Eric's right. And I thought, or not Eric, my sponsor. Eric's right about everything.
But uh and I I used to think I wish I had his life. Then I saw him in a meeting and thought, "Crap, I do have his life." But uh so I I I called Anna that night after I calmed down and got a little humble. Grace, grace, grace.
You don't make yourself humble. Something happens. And I called her and I said, "Hey, I should probably give you some money." And she goes, "Oh my god, that'd be so great." She goes, "It's so much harder than I thought it'd be and I got to go to college and I don't know how I'm going to do it." And I said, "Well, I don't make that much money, but how much do you want?" And she goes, "Oh, no, no.
Let's not do a amount. Let's do a percentage of your income." She is not a simple girl. She's a very smart girl.
And uh and I went, "Oh, okay." And really literally, she could have said, "I want 95% of your income and my lifestyle would not have changed at all." you know, living with mom and dad going to I had a Datson B210 and uh and I gave her this very fair percentage and every two weeks, every two weeks I cash my paycheck and run over to their house and pay that money. And if you're in your first year, I want to be absolutely honest about why I did that. I did not do that to be a good father or a good person.
I did that because I never want to drink alcohol ever again. And because the only spiritual experience I was having was in the presence of Phoebe Rose. She had no judgment of me.
She thought I was awesome. She didn't know about all that other stuff. And I'd hold her on my lap and on my knees and she'd like smack me and she had this enormous Irish head.
Anna's Irish. Phoebe screwed. And she would like smack me in the head with her head.
And I we laugh, you know. I just I loved her energy and her her innocence and her kindness. And I remember I was holding her going, Phoebe, I'm your dad.
I'm going to be with you until I pass away from this earth. I'm going to take you to your first day of kindergarten, Phoebe, and your first day of first grade and second grade and third grade. And when you go to high school and you turn 16, I'm going to buy you a car.
I'm your dad and I'm going to figure out how a guy like me is going to put you through college. Babe, we are together for the rest of our lives. And I'm so glad.
And a year before that, I prayed that God make it. so that I never see her again. And that was a righteous prayer.
But you guys got a hold of me and said, "Stop thinking. Start doing. Make amends.
Pay the child support. Get in the car. Take the commitment." And I got clean inside.
I got clean inside. So about a month after Kevin came to our home group, I'm sitting there and I've forgotten all about him, you know, and he walks through the door and I go, "It's Kevin." You know, and I'm like running AC, it's like, you know, like a high school dance, you know, like knocking people out of the way. And I get up there, Kevin, welcome back to the greatest meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous in the world.
And he goes, "Wow, you remembered my name." And I said, "Yeah, I must be hard traveling." And this you really like landed in the right place when you came to this meeting. this is the meeting and he goes, "What do you do for a living?" And I go, "Well, I stagn." And he kind of laughed at me and he goes, "How long are you sober?" I go, "I got a year about a year and six months." He goes, "Well, here here's my card. Come see me." And he was vice president of an international airline.
And I went to see him and I got my suit. I said, "Wear a suit and bring your DMV." So, I have my black suit. Every Irish family, you got to have wake and wedding suit.
And uh and I have my brown hush puppy shoes because those are my shoes. And I know that they don't look right, but I don't really have a choice. So, I go to the airport near the airport on Century Boulevard, beautiful, beautiful office, big glass office, and I knock on the door and Kevin comes the door and he opens the door and he looks at my shoes and he starts laughing.
So, I'm a little self-conscious now and kind of nervous. And my DMV is about the size of a phone booth because I went to jail for the same DUI three times. I'll tell you about it later because I'm lame.
And I I'm standing there and then he goes, "I just want to introduce you to Sarah, our our human resources person." And I turn and this goddess from Hawaii floats across the room to me and is looking at my shoes. So now I'm really I want to go home. And uh but home's mom and dad and I'm 31.
This is getting ridiculous. And uh so I go into the office of Sarah and uh she sits down and she's flipping flipping through my Department of Motor Vehicles report and she's looking at my shoes and she's looking at my resume which has this big 11-year gone to the party gap, right? It was a good party.
And uh she said, "I I'll be right back." And I go, "Okay." And I'm so nervous, right? And she goes into the other room and which is Kevin's office. I saw Kevin go in that office and I can hear through the wall him go, "He's not going to fly the damn planes.
He's going to put people on them." And I got really relaxed and she comes in and she's all messed up and she's like, "I think we're going to hire you." And I'm like, "Damn right, you're going to hire me?" No, I did not do that. I did not do that. I was like, "Thank you.
Thank you. What is this job?" And I got a job at the airport. And the reason I tell you that is because I did this tiny thing, tiny thing to help another person and God came running towards me.
I've seen it 10 million times. I've seen it in your lives. I've seen it in my life.
I could tell you how it happened today. And I got this job at the airport and I uh got got enough money. I was starting to pay people payments.
You know, I owed this guy $15,000. And when I wrote my n my amends list, I said, "I can't pay this guy." And he said, "Why not?" And I go, "Cuz I owe $10 million, you know." And he's like, "It says $15,000." I go, "Yeah, but might as well be 10 million. You know, I don't have the money." And he goes, "What do you think?
You got to send him $15,000 in a briefcase?" And I go, "Well, yeah, I don't know." And he goes, "You're kind of grandiose." He said, "How much could you send him today?" And I said, "I got 20 bucks." And he goes, "Could you spare $20?" And I said, "Yeah." He goes, "Well, let's write a letter." So, I wrote him a letter. He lived in Mexico City at the time. He used to have that apartment with me, but he left and I cheated him out of the rent.
And I sent him a letter and I sent him $20 and I mailed it off. And then a month later, my sponsor goes, "Hey, you sent Larry any money?" I go, "Oh, I thought I did that. He's like, "No, no, no, no, no.
You send him more money." I, "Oh, okay. Okay." So, I sent him $20 more and I started keeping track in a notebook cuz when I'm paying you back, I keep strict records. When I'm ripping you off, it's like, I think it's about $15,000.
So, I'm writing these notes. Every every month, I send some money and I get better jobs. I start sending them $100, sometimes 50 bucks, whatever.
I thought, "Hey, I can spare this. I'll send it to him." And I'm writing it down. I'm writing it down.
And seven years goes by and I paid him $7,000. And he said, "Hey." He calls me up. He moved back to Newport Beach.
He calls me up. He goes, "Hey, stop sending me these checks." And I go, "Why?" And he goes, "Well, I don't know what you're doing, but you've become the man I always saw in you. You're a really good dad.
You're a really good friend. You're a great son. You paid me back.
And I made the mistake of calling my sponsor. All of those who raised your first year, this is a, you know, a cautionary tale. I call him up and I go, "Hey, I don't have to pay Larry any money anymore." And he goes, "Really?
Are you done?" Like, "Yeah, I made him seven grand." He goes, "You owe him $15,000." Like, "Yeah, but he said that's wonderful thing. I'm a wonderful guy and I'm good." And he goes, "Okay, okay. Do you want to stop doing what's working?
You started off living at your mom's and dad's house. You sent him 20 bucks. You've got a beautiful home.
You have a cool job. You've got an interesting life, man. You want to stop doing what's working?
That's cool. That's an $8,000 phone call. I've never had one of those.
So, my father passed away after my mother passed away and I was really close with my dad because I lived with them and I moved out and I had a good life and and my dad left me money and I wrote Larry a check for $8,000 and he called me and he said, "Man, you're not going to believe it. I'm looking at my wife. She just told me we're going to have a baby and we want to buy the house we're renting and we looked at our savings and we calculated it out and we were just about eight grand short of a down payment and your check came today." Honest to God, that happened.
The loser, the flake, the animal got to help this really decent human being buy a house with his own money, whatever. You know, that's like such a tiny part of the story, but my sponsor says, "If you tell that story, you have to be clear." But anyway, I get this job at the airport and I'm making money and I get this guitar on my way to the airport. I bought a single cutaway Taylor Dan Curry model acoustic guitar with a with a pickup in it.
It's beautiful. And I get to the airport and I got hired by the vice president and I don't drink so everybody thinks I'm a mole. So I have no friends at my job which is cool cuz I was the cool guy and I always got fired when I was the cool guy.
So I'm the uncool guy now. And but I got this great guitar and I put it in my locker and on my breaks I visit it and I pet the case and I can't wait to get home to my parents house to play it. But I'm feeling kind of lonely.
You know, when you start to get your life together and everybody else already had their life together, it's a little lonely. So, I go to the bus stop to wait for the employee bus and and this woman walks up next to me from British Airways and I just turn to her and go, "Hey, can I show you my new guitar?" And she turns I'll never forget this. She turns to me and she goes, "I don't look at strange men's guitars." And I was like, "God, get over yourself.
I just want you to look at my guitar." Right? And what a not very nice girl. And so we get on the bus and I'm really shut down now.
I feel stupid. She thinks I'm hitting on her. Get over yourself.
I just want someone to look at my guitar. And she's pressed up against me cuz it's the international terminal. So there's all these other people on the bus and she's right here and she has a book in her hand called Surprised by Joy by CS Lewis.
And I want her to relax. So I go, "Hey, I've read that book." And she goes, "Well, cut to the chase. Do you believe in God?" in this beautiful British accent.
And I start vibrating. God saved my life, you know, and all the blood drained out of her face. And she's like, "Well, I don't know if I believe in God.
I'm taking a class, you know." And uh so then she starts talking about God and I said, "Well, I don't believe in the God that you don't believe in." And I start talking about God and I'm I'm like, "Wow, we're talking about God and she's beautiful and I'm relaxed and all the men in the room know that's called a spiritual awakening." And uh I didn't start habitually lying, compulsively lying that I was actually a secret agent or something, you know. I just worked for Quantis and uh and I realized, God, she's lovely. I feel comfortable.
I like me. I really like me. And we got off the bus and I said, "Hey, do you think maybe we could forget about this guitar and have dinner sometime?" And she did not think so.
And she was super clear. She's like, "All right, look at my guitar. I've read that book.
You don't have to wait for this bus every night and you should." And I'm like, "Hey, no is a complete answer." And she leans back on her heels and looked a little chased by that, which I took as a personal victory. and she went her way and I went to my mom's and dad's house. Super cool.
And uh and my dad was awake worrying and I sat with him and listened to him and then I said, "Hey, I met this girl and she felt like home." And I totally blew it. And my dad used to say little platitudes to us, I think, to get us to shut up, but I grew up my whole life. And he goes, "That's not over." And I thought, "Okay, that's not over." And I remember I I knew that I'd grown spiritually because I went to work the next day and I didn't tell anybody she was a lesbian.
I'm like, "That's totally her business. That's not my business to tell." And I'm only kind of kidding. Like I didn't have to like say anything about her cuz she shut me down and rejected me.
I just was sad that I made her uncomfortable cuz I really liked her and I felt comfortable in her presence. And I went to work and then I ran to get the early bus so I didn't have to go through that again. And I hear the high heels and she taps me on the shoulder and she says, 'I think I was rude to you.
I don't want to go out with you. And I, yeah, you've been perfectly clear about that. And she said, "But do you maybe want to have coffee and miss this bus?" And I said, "We're going to have coffee so you feel better." And she said, "Yeah." And I go, "Yeah, let's do it." And uh we missed we got the very last bus at like 1:00 in the morning.
We just comfortable grace and two weeks later she proposed to me and we've been married for 22 years. Miracles. I converted a lesbian.
God did that. And I remember I was uh we got married in Crystal Lake, Illinois. My mom and dad were still alive and we got she my wife was so beautiful.
Pip is her name, Philippa. And she said, "Let's get married in Chicago. So you your mom has to go home one more time." She put her whole wedding somewhere else and we had a little house on Crystal Lake in in Northern Illinois and we got married on this this lawn and it's been in our our family since the 20s.
It's a little house. It's not like the Kennedy compound, although from the air it looks like the Kennedy compound cuz a lot of grass. And uh and I walked out on the pier before she was going to come out through that door and walk across that lawn and marry me.
And I looked up at the sky and I said, "Thank you, God, that this is the next indicated thing." Cuz many, many times the next indicated thing isn't a dirty diaper or a bill or an alarm clock. Many, many times the next indicated thing makes your heart blow up in your chest with joy. And that day was one of those days.
My mother and father were there. My brother who 12step me was there. Larry, the guy I screwed out of $15,000 was my best man.
>> Yeah, I was shocked, too. And uh and we had a couple of little kids and I got in the car with her and I took her to the right hospital twice. It's a whole another experience.
There's just grace in this woman. And I remember the the day I got I was going to marry I said you know to my sponsor I go she's not blonde she's not anorexic she's not addicted to heroin she's really not my type you know and he said yeah you've changed and when you change you attract quality people so I don't like it when people come up here and they go you know I was a terrible awful person and I lived like a gollum you know and it was awful and then I got sober and now butterflies fly out of my butt you know and you do hear that kind of at I mean, now I'm the CFO and the CEO and all my kids are beauty queens and blah blah blah. And that's not true.
In fact, there's a lie that people tell you when you come to AA. All those people in your first year, has anybody walked up to you and said, "Everything's going to be all right." Raise your hand if they have. They're laing.
I had a great life, but bad things happened. You know, Philip and I work for airlines. We took those little kids all over the world.
Phoebe loved being part of our lives and Anna loves Philippa. We all live close to each other. We would go to parent teacher night and hand babies around.
All four of us. We were the talk of the school. But we were married for 5 years.
I I came through the door and I found my wife stretched out on the floor and she'd had a massive stroke and it changed everything. She became permanently paralyzed, completely paralyzed on her left side. She can't use her left side of her body.
and she became permanently brain damaged. The grace is that she can speak to me because I don't know what I'd do without her. But I can tell you that I don't need my wife to be any other way than she is.
I've been her caregiver for over 15 years. My perception sometimes gets me in the past. I wish it was like it used to be or in the future it's not going to be good.
But reality is always perfect. It's always perfect. It's never not perfect.
And when I'm in the reality of the present moment, no matter what the circumstances, and we've had some dark times, it's perfect. You can feel it. And she keeps me there.
She keeps me there. She teaches me all the time. So, we don't mean to lie to you when we say everything's going to be all right.
We're just saying it wrong. What we're trying to say is we know you're scared. We know all you've ever been is a bad friend to yourself.
We know that you've always made the wrong decision. But if you do these things, these things on the wall, and you stick close to us, no matter what happens, no matter what happens, you're going to be all right. And I know that's true.
Thank you. >> Thank you for listening to Sober Sunrise. If you enjoyed today's episode, please give it a thumbs up as it will help share the message.
Until next time, have a great day.