The Harvey Kid, Sinatra and Living Right!

om Dreesen, The Chairman of the Board and My Pops

Tom Dreesen, an amazing person and legendary funnyman will be at The Laugh Factory, Chicago on May 6, 2012. THe Show is at 5pm! Don't miss it. Tom's stories of his days with Sinatra, and his hilarious reflections on growing up in the business are priceless. This blog was written shortly after I met Tom for the first time. See You Guys Sunday!

(original post 10/11 unedited)

I have mentioned many times in past posts that I don't believe in coincidence. I feel that God has a grand plan for all of us. We just don't know what that plan is until we're looking back in the rear view mirror of our lives. How many times have you been thinking about a friend and they call unexpectedly? Haven't there been times when you were at your wits end and a stranger smiled at you or extended a compliment at just the right moment? Coincidence? I think not.

After my father passed away in July 2010 my world was shaken to its' foundation. I was sober for a year and a half when he died. GOD, and the help of others like me, helped me get sober 18 months prior to his death. It was so that I could be there for him. I had not been the greatest son during some pockets of time during my 28 years of alcoholism and addiction. I had used, abused and taken advantage of my Pops.' That's what addicts do. In those last 18 months we were able to reconnect and become father and son again. We also became best friends and confidants.

As he deteriorated in mind and body I would bathe and shave him and make him laugh. My dad had a laugh that made you laugh. It was difficult to see the tough Irish, self made guy who ran with "The Son's of Italy" as a kid melt away in front of me. God gave me the strength to be there for him, and second mom, when I was just beginning to get my own mind together. If I was still drinking the pain of seeing him so frail and disoriented would have been too much and I would have avoided him like a cop with a breathalyzer test.

 HE got me sober when he did to fulfill his plan of reuniting us and granted me the grace to make things right and be there when dad needed me most. I didn't see that when I was smack dab in the middle of the pile. I was an emotional wreck. I was still having panic attacks and learning how to cope with life without chemicals. I learned a lot about myself, my dad, my family and my God during those 18 months. Although it was the most difficult time in my life it is also one of the seasons of it season I treasure most.

After Dad was gone I decided I was going to go back to comedy and give acting a shot. I wasn't going to leave any dream or regret on the table. Two days after his memorial service I was on the set of "The Chicago Code." As for comedy I got pretty lucky. The first time I ever did stand-up the Chicago Tribune was at Barrel-O-Laughs in Oak Lawn to write a feature story for the METRO section about people taking chances at midlife. I had already joined the Navy Reserve at 40 and was one week away from my 41st birthday when I decided to follow a lifelong dream of being a comic. Yeah I know! We'll get back to the Navy thing another day.

 Not many comics get a front page spread in the Tribune Metro Section on their first gig. Most never do. It was God's plan and after they laughed at my first joke I was hooked. The bad thing was that I blanked on what the "flashing light" meant and my 7 minutes became 20! Bill Brady, emcee at the Barrel let me roll because the crowd was laughing and I had brought half of them. It was liking climbing Everest! As I saw the pictures of famous comedians on the wall like Steve Allen, Drew Cary and Jackie Mason I was star struck. As I stood on the same stage they had and people laughed at words I had cobbled together I was blown away!

I had been acting for 2 months. I hadn't done comedy in ages and sent out my act via facebook to Tom Dreesen, David Brenner, Marsha Warfield and Mike Toomey asking for some feedback. I got responses from everyone except Marsha. We have since become friends. She is out of the comedy game but is still a force in Chicago as an activist in educating people about tolerance, racism, equality and history. Dreesen, Warfield and Toomey are all from Chicago.  EVERYONE knows David Brenner is pure New York with an open run show in Vegas. I love his insights. Mike is a staple around Chicago on WGN, HBO, Comedy Central and anywhere he can talk about TV shows. He is a 10 year old trapped in Mike Toomey and a great guy.

I had the most feedback from Tom Dreesen. Here was a guy who had toured with Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. and he was taking time to help an unknown like me. I was familiar with Tom's story to some degree. As I learned more about his upbringing the parallels in our lives seemed similar. Knowing what I know now I see that God put Tom in my path to help me fulfill the mission I am on for HIM. The similarities are stark in our paths as far as our upbringing, our family friendly material and our desire to give back to the community through supporting worthy causes. We also both know catching your dreams is possible with faith, hope and friends. We differ in that he is a Comic legend and a Cub fan. I am an actor, story teller, writer and Sox fan who loves to make people laugh on a mission to share my story of delivery from addiction.

I knew Tom was from Harvey and part of "Tim and Tom" the first bi-racial comedy team. I also knew he did a lot of service work and fundraisers around Chicago. His reputation as a good guy is well known. His years with Frank Sinatra well documented. I loved Sinatra as a kid and still do. I had seen him on The Tonight Show and Letterman. That was where my education about the background of Tom Dreesen ended.

I got some good responses from Tom, David and Mike. I followed up my first message with a second one stating that I was in recovery and wanted to share my story of alcoholism, addiction, homelessness, hopelessness to recovery through hope, faith and the hand of a friend. Basically, I was doing a reverse in the classic show biz storyline. I was an addict who lived on skid row who was moving into show business and wondered if that would be committing career suicide by sharing that in my act.

Dreesen and Brenner are wonderful foils. Tom told me of Carl Reiner's advice to him as a young comic to "Show them your pain." Brenner pointed out that you don't wanna talk bad about booze in front of a crowd full of people enjoying a drink and a guy who is paying you with the money they bought them with. I am not anti booze. It's just not for me. I've had my share.

I continued to check in and my acting career was on the rise. I began to write my blog "Every Day is a Gift" in December as a cathartic diary about the pains of sobriety and the grieving over the loss of my father. Each entry, including this one is done in one sitting. It is one stream of consciousness. It keeps it real and honest. The grammar and punctuations suffers but I think the message is what counts. Within a few months the blog was named one of the "Top Addiction Blogs Online." As of today it is read in 52 countries on 6 continents. Addiction is universal. It is an equal opportunity killer and loves to destroy everybody in its' path.

The parallels began to align when I learned that Tom had family members with alcohol issues. He also started one of the countries first drug awareness programs in schools for kids as a Jaycee. That was what introduced him to Tim Reid and was the precursor to his comedy career. Coincidence? I think not. When I was named spokesman and Emcee for this years "Rally Round Recovery" I reached out to Tom for help in recording some promotional commercials. he didn't hesitate. He recorded 2 and the event was a huge success. I was grateful to be a part of the event and have been asked to return for "Rally Round Recovery 2012." Good Lord willing I'll be there.

As the blog got more popular someone suggested I turn it into a book. I had always wanted to write a novel. Sharing my stories of 3 failed marriages, living homeless, eating garbage, lving with undiagnosed depression issues and trying to take my own life was not the block buster I wanted out there. More loved ones of addicted people reached out. I shared my experiences in recovery and my belief that catching your dreams is possible no matter what the obstacle with faith and the hand of a friend. I decided to do it and that I could donate proceeds to recovery, homeless and mental health programs.

Soul Parole Productions, Inc. was born on July 7, 2011. The name is taken from the title of my book Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself. It will be released December 17, 2011 on AMAZON. That is one year to the day from when I started the blog. I have chosen the recovery, homeless and mental health programs and institutions the book will help support. I hope to find a corporate sponsor to help me get on the road and share my story with as many people possible.

Last night Squeaky and I met Tom Dreesen after a fundraiser for St. Scholastica School for girls in Chicago. After countless emails, messages and phone calls I felt like I already knew him as we shook hands. It was a firm comfortable grip. He was set to meet with the alumni and special guests and made time for Squeaky and me.  He's just a working stiff in a tux with a heart of gold. He is exactly as you see him in the media. Tom is Tom. Knowing his story and what his mission in lifehas been, I KNOW, I know him. He was warm and welcoming. I thought Squeaky was going to hug him to death. He took time to take pictures for the book.

In my short career as an actor and comic I have been blessed to work in a lot of films and tv series in a very short time. I have passed on the name of my agent and casting directors to a handful of acting and comic hopefuls along the way. A few of them have already passed me by and are SAG actors and landed regular roles in cable series. I am grateful that I could help them on their journey. People helped me get sober and to where I am in my career and life. Holding your hand out to a friend is what I think the whole purpose is to us being here.

People are put in my path. I was put in the path of others to help them in God's plans for them. We all are messengers and have gifts to share. Tom  has shown me that helping others up the ladder is something that should never be forgotten no matter how far you climb or don't. At this point not helping others would leave a void in my life. It's my career that may suffer. I think that sharing my story, addiction and ending the stigmas that go along with it and depression is going to be my career. God will let me know.

Tom wrote the foreword for Soul Parole. I am grateful for that. His words are touching and I feel a little unworthy of them. Tom has become much more than a reviewer or advisor in these last several months. He has become my model for my act and my mission to give back to the community. I am sharing my story of pain, hope and catching my dreams. If one person hears my story and it helps them act on their addiction, gives them courage to face a fear or inspires them to catch their dreams... then my 28 years of pain was not spent in vain... it was just part of God's plan.

Mom of Two Knocks Out Big Mouth Irish Boy!

In addiction the addict stays camped out inside our head, ready to put its two cents into a situation whenever it can if we don't keep it locked in its cage. We do that through recovery groups, helping others in recovery, spiritual development and logical thinking. Logical thinking is the rub. An addict lives his life emotionally, feeding unwanted feelings with the drug of choice. He reacts first and then sorts out the damage. I let my emotions spill out on paper without thinking logically about what my wife's legitimate concerns were. I acted first and asked questions later.

Over the last few weeks I have been caught up in my daughter's problems,  theatre production, a comedy showcase and an offer for a film called "Sidetracked" while I await word on another project I am very interested in for later in the summer. There is also the renewal of "The Chicago Code" and some student projects I have volunteered for at Columbia College Film School, where I am a proud alum. Basically I have let myself get chaotic and emotional.

My wife is thrilled with my career and doesn't want me to stop what I am doing. I let an emotional outburst she laid on me effect me and I got defensive. "Mom of Two" was quick to point out that there were probably many times when I shot my mouth off when I was using or drinking. She is spot on. My wife made a comment that she knew would hurt me, to get my attention. This is another practice I used to participate in frequently.

I have no resentment with my daughter getting child support. You missed the mark there, "Mom of two." I am frustrated that I don't know where she is. I went wrong by not listening to my wife's lashing out and hear where she was coming from. There were some simple things she needed me to do. Going back to sales and giving up acting isn't on the list. I reacted defensively instead of compassionately. That is old behavior. I am still an alcoholic. I do not use alcohol but there is still some "ick" that pops out sometimes. Recovery is a lifelong process. My wife and I are wonderful. She is the next greatest thing to my sobriety.

God does not come down with fire and burning bush so much these days. He speaks through us. "Mom of Two", thank you for being a messenger for me to see things clearly. I needed your third party slap in the face to get back on page. I have passed on the film "Sidetracked" and will be managing my projects more efficiently to accommodate my personal universe. "Mom of Two", you never know when God is going to have you step up to the plate and be His instrument of change for the day or moment. I thank you for being mine today. God bless us all!

The Thought of Dying Scares Me to Death!

The title of this blog sums it up. I have had a near death experience and it was indescribable. I have prayed to die, many times, when I was lost in addiction and alcoholism. My experience with panic attacks put me in the hospital three times. All three incidents made me feel like I WAS dying. I have drank enough alcohol to be in a clinical coma with a 33% blood alcohol level and rolled my car end over end four times. I could have been killed or killed someone else.

 I have been with a loved one when they took their last breath. I have had dogs put down and had the undesirable power of their life or death in my hands. I know it's inevitable. I know I'm going to heaven. It is the physical part of the deal that kills me! The uncertainty of when it is going to happen is nerve wracking. I often wonder if I would be happier knowing when it was coming or get one last surprise at the end of my ride. I don't know which it will be. I don't have much say in the matter.

Death is a subject people just don't talk about. We talk about those who have passed after the fact. The topic of our own mortality rarely comes up unless we are faced with an accident or terminal illness. I think about it a lot. I won't say obsessively but being a wee bit of a hypochondriac makes the subject roll around in my head more than the average bear. When I pull a muscle in my back or my arm spasms I am instantly catapulted into "The end is near mentality." It may seem silly but I think we all ponder it sometimes and just don't let it out. When I go in for a teeth cleaning I say a prayer of confession and ask God to save a place for me in paradise. I know I'm an extreme case but I know we all do it at times.

When I was young I thought everyone lived to around 90 and then died in their sleep. Man, I wish that simple childish theory was the case. I thought I was indestructible climbing trees and doing goofy stunts. Broken arms came to mind but permanent exit was never really a consideration. When I turned 17 and started abusing alcohol and drugs I still thought I was Iron Man. Then I moved the number to 40. I thought that 40 years of fast living was enough for me and I would be ready to check out. God knows I was committing suicide slowly, an inch at a time from the substances I punished my mind and body with.

My grandfather died at 39 and my stepfather at 42. Based on genetics, I figured, and the skip a generation theory I was gonna be right on the money with my age of 40 cutoff. Most of my relatives died in their late 70's and older. When I was young that was like, a million. No problem! Now that I am 45 the definition of being old bar keeps sliding to the right. 50 is around the corner, 60 is still pretty young, 70 is getting up there, 80 is a decent life and by 90 I probably would think I was 12 again so that's not an issue.

I find it funny that I used to pump my fist and sing "Hope I die before I get old!" Now I carry a low dose aspirin in my pocket that I can chomp on if I have a grabber. I really do! I used to laugh at those chairs that take you to the second floor on a little rail. Now I see those commercials and think that would really be comfortable. The scooters! Oh, the scooters. To me that is like a go kart for old people. Even if I live into my 80's and am in great shape, I am still getting the scooter. I'm going to put a basket on the front to carry my stuff and put one of those long orange flags on the back like I used to have on my bike.

As I get more sober and see how much I have missed from the memory loss that accompanies substance abuse, it makes me want to live more and fear death even more. I want to see my grandkids and play the Ramones for them and teach them to play baseball. I want to retire and have the focus of my day be on whether I should make a pot pie or have some Raisin Bran. I want my biggest decision of the day to be choosing between reruns of "Sanford and Son" or "Rescue Me."

The bottom line is we don't know when IT'S going to happen. I just don't want it to hurt! I just don't want any of my loved ones to see it happen. I just don't want it to be when my car is in front of a girlie bar, leaving my wife to wonder if I kicked before or after I went in. I make light of a subject that really does occupy some of my thoughts. Ultimately I just don't want to be a burden on my wife. If I don't know who I am or who she is and can't take care of myself, just whack me. Consider this a legal document. Kick out the plug. At the memorial service tell a funny story about me. Don't cry. I'll be moving on to paradise.

Time really does fly as you get older. At 45 it is zooming buy! At 65 I might have to wear a helmet and goggles to protect my head from getting hit by the time flying by. At 75 I will risk the injury. At 85 I will be grateful for the run. At 90 I think I'll be tired enough to welcome the idea. It is all up to the big guy.

I do know this. Every Day is a GIFT! The other day I heard a woman on TV say that as long as she is walking on this earth God has something for her to do. I like that. I will help my fellow man in between the pot pie and Sanford and Son. I do live my life to the fullest. I do live each day like it may be my last. I try to leave each person I encounter on a good note. I will help people in recovery as long as I can, I will make people laugh as l am funny and I will give thanks each morning when I know I have been granted one more TODAY!

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In life everyone has done or said things they would like to forget and can't. There are memories we try to wish and pray away. There are always a few in some dark corner of our minds just waiting for us to wrap our heads around them and drag them back into the light. Sometimes others bring it back into that light for us.

Alcohol, and/or anger makes people say, and do things they wouldn't normally even consider when calm or sober. There's the cutting remarks, pushing of hot buttons, dredged up family secrets and reminders of poor past decisions that we want permanently erased from our memory drive. There is inevitably something we have done or said while drunk, or riled up, that we wish we could take back. This is not exclusive to people like me. Everyone has an incident or remark they remember, or don't, that haunts them or embarrasses them to some degree.

For an alcoholic this haunting presents itself through remorse, shame and self-loathing that eventually it becomes overwhelming. It is simple math. Too many drinks + several years of too many drinks = loss of control, rage, verbal warfare and multiple bad decisions. This beast of burden becomes so daunting that it creates a cycle of more drinking and poor decisions. The equation is more drinks to forget, more for poor decisions made,more and more drinks, ad infinitum.

For the occasional partier or abstainer, there are probably a few of these silly, or sometimes serious, incidents that happened on a vacation or at a company party that are uncomfortable when relived. Some of them were serious enough to create a permanent scar on one, or more of the parties involved. The normal person moves on or works through it. Few seem to let it slip away into lost moments of days gone by.

Before I ever picked up a drink some things happened to me that I couldn't process as a little boy. The incidents were confusing and happened at the hands of a person I was told to trust. The mixed messages created confusing feelings, and later would fuel my isolation and anger. It twisted my sense of trust and robbed me of my innocence. This "loved" one is no longer here. I have never shared the pain with my family because I feel nothing good can come out of dredging up a ghost of painful past.

That person is not here to respond and other lives would be damaged at the news. It is my choice to hold it back because there is no redeeming or positive outcome that would result from my soul cleansing confession. It can not be changed, no matter how badly we want it to. No human can change history. I have forgiven this person. Not for his actions but for his humanity. God has given me so many chances. To hold hatred inside would rot me away slowly, while he is dead. He has stood before his maker and accounted for his stop here. His fate is up to powers I can't even perceive.

One of the most difficult, but vital parts of my recovery is facing the past, and those whom I have hurt along the way. By cleaning up the messes I have created I am relieved of some of the baggage I was burdened with daily. We drink to forget. We drink to escape. We drink to try to temporarily erase the massive pain we have created through the fog of a hangover.

Remember the Grinch cartoon where the little dog with the stick on his head is pulling that massive sled stacked four stories high with the Grinch's stolen Christmas booty? At one point they slide down a hill to a cliff, the overstuffed sleigh is teetering on the edge of disaster. The cute little dog is hanging over the edge of the cliff looking up at the huge bags that are sure to destroy him if it falls. That is what a drunk in recovery is trying to fix. Active drinkers keep adding to the burden. We try to remove the baggage, a little bit at a time, so that it doesn't destroy us. As we lighten the burden, the urge to escape is replaced by satisfaction in making things right, or at least taking responsibility for our past mistakes.

Setting the record straight with those we have wronged is greeted with acceptance and forgiveness, angry rejection or indifference by the attempted confession. The outcomes, once again, are out of our control but the issue being faced takes one more package off the sleigh of guilt to the man in recovery. There are those we can't reach, or those who are dead who make taking of responsibility for past wrongs impossible. We do the best we can with who we can, and leave the rest up to God's timing.

In the majority of reparations the people we have wronged are wives, husbands, loved ones and friends who are still in our orbit. The reparations offered to these people are "living" reparations. By leading decent, sober well intentioned lives, we show others that we are new creatures. Our actions and giving without expecting anything in return is a lifetime commitment to sobriety, and our sanity. The ultimate goal is taking ownership of our errors and living peaceably with those offended by our past wrongs.

The selfish, uncaring drunk I was for 20 years, is still inside of me, part of my permanent record. It can not be changed. There are times when people perceive that I have done them wrong. I am accused of things I did not do. The accusations are understood but create anger and resentment towards our accuser. If a dog has stolen your socks time after time, when one goes missing, the doghouse is the first place you check, based on his past. Lashing out creates more trouble. An honest appraisal of my past gives me understanding as to why they think I am the perpetrator. I was a sock stealing dog for years. I just don't steal them anymore.

Forgiveness is the key to contented life, whether drunk or sober. Anger and resentment are deadly for an addict. If dwelled upon for too long, these feelings will eventually lead us back to escape through the bottle or addiction. Forgiving myself has been the hardest reparation I have faced in recovery. The self-loathing, self-hate, fear, remorse, regret and shame can be relentless as my mind gets clearer in my sobriety. Forgiving myself is vital, or I will end up drunk or crazy.

I know GOD has forgiven me for my sins and human failings. Knowing he has forgiven me, by failing to forgive myself and others, I am questioning GOD's omnipotence. I have been pardoned for my past mistakes by the ultimate expert on forgiveness. If I question my worthiness for forgiveness, I am doubting his authority and grace. It will take time, but with help, I will make it through to the other side. I spent 28 years drinking. It may take 50 years before I am forgiven by others and myself. As long as I am open-minded, and keep GOD centered in my efforts, everything will work out fine. More specifically they will work out exactly as God has planned.

Forgive yourself and others for shortcomings and human weakness. God has forgiven us if we have sincerely asked for his mercy. Life is too short to live in the past. Remember that every day is a gift, and the days we live with hate and anger, whether inward or outward, robs us of enjoying the "present" of today. If I don't share the grace and blessings that have been freely given to me, I just might lose them all....

Come On Honey! They're Just Pictures!....Why are you so Mad?

My cycle of addiction started with alcohol and then weed. It moved to speed and pills and then anything that could get me out of having feelings or having to deal with yours. One of the crazy paradoxes for me was as addictions held me tighter and tighter and I knew I was losing control, my threshold of what got me to "where I wanted to get to" grew more and more. Enough is never enough for a guy like me. Like Nigel Tufnel said in "Spinal Tap, "When all the other blokes are at 10 and can't go any farther I can go to 11. Just one more for that extra something."

My addictions moved to people, love, pain, codependency and sex. But I always made my way back to booze because it was old and reliable. Easy to get, then easy to forget. That is to forget the self-loathing I had toward myself and the injustices of society. I was a victim and the world owed me. I was always going to do something about it the next day. That next day did come, but unfortunately, it was 25 years after I first thought about it.When one addiction lost its ability to give me the rush I needed, I could slide into the next or combine addictions for full blown chaos. For me, the bottom line was that I didn't like myself and whatever chemical, activity or person which made me feel the most pain was the one I favored.

I was living on Mannheim Road in Stone Park in the mid 90's. The town provided every sin, addiction and vice that a drunken addict like me thrived on. There was more going on between Lake Street and Grand Avenue than the Las Vegas Strip. That was my experience and I am sure it is much different now. I will leave the definition of the things "going on" to your imagination. It is here that I found porn. This is a subject I hate to relive because it almost cost me my marriage to Squeaky. I don't think Disney will be calling me in the near future to star in their latest family film.

When I was living at the transient motels, or in my car, porn was a deep dark addiction for me. My relationships were nonexistent and broken. I was both exhilarated and horrified by each sick video or magazine, realizing what I was watching. It was a temporary escape from thinking about how I felt about me and simultaneously feeding my self loathing because I knew what I was doing was wrong. The rush of watching taboos being broken in front of my sorrow filled eyes and empty soul was a rush and I fed on it like ants on a sugar drop.

I have heard that guys are visual and gals are auditory when it comes to stimulation. I suppose that's why I am excited at the thought of my wife in a nighty and she loves when I stroke her hair and we giggle in bed. From the time I was little and saw my first "Easy Rider" magazine I was hooked. The girls were exotic and seductive. They all seemed to be calling out, "Tommy I'm waiting for you." I felt that this was harmless and maybe to some it is. As a guy I thought of it the same as looking at the Mona Lisa or some art piece. There was just an image there in 2 dimensions and no one got hurt from my fascination with just looking.

I have never cheated on my wife whether drunk or sober. I do have to say that I was unfaithful to her. After we moved in together, and I had stopped drinking for a few years, I rediscovered porn. Not in stores or magazines but on the world wide web. I was smoking pot and taking speed and it wasn't enough for me. I needed to get from 10 to 11. The boundary free, anything you can think of, erotica that the Internet offers was a click away. Sometimes I would put in completely vile subjects in the search menu and sure enough, a picture or video would come up. There was nothing like little kids or animals, but 2 ways, 4 ways, freaks of nature, women/women, men/men and violent encounters were within my parameters of being acceptable to view.

I loved my wife and she satisfied me in every way. I can honestly say that it wasn't even the imagery that turned me on. It was the rush and high of exposing myself to such decadence. There were late night log-ins when my wife was asleep and quick check ins when I got home from work before she did. It was the same cycle as booze. The planning, obsessing, using and remorse were the same. The "candy" was the only thing that changed. That phase of my life, marriage and perception of pornography changed when she discovered my dirty little secret.

The hiding and concealing of my habits were part of the high. Doing something naughty and getting away with it was half the enjoyment. One day while working on the family PC she found me out. I don't know how. I believe it had something to do with "cookies" but in reality I was relieved to be found out. She was devastated and hurt to the point of being inconsolable. "How could you do this," she screamed! In the typical male response, I replied nonchalantly and coolly that it was no big deal. "It was just pictures like the Mona Lisa or Baywatch, only naked!"

I was quickly schooled in the depth of pain it caused her and have not looked at the stuff since. She was concerned that I didn't find her attractive. Not true. She asked if she satisfied me. She did. She cried, frustrated that she could never look like, or do the things that those people were doing. I told her I didn't expect her to, that it meant nothing to me. She said it meant everything to her! I began to feel smaller and smaller, like a cartoon character shrinking with every tear filled statement.

It hit home when she asked if I would be happy if she was watching those same images when I wasn't around. The answer was definitely not! As a guy we think of it as pictures. To a woman they see it as a reflection of what they can't be or what the man feels is missing in his life. Once again as an addict, I was able to push the reality of my wife's feelings out of the way to satisfy my urge to get high. It took a long time to regain her trust. I could see the depth of betrayal in her eyes that I had caused for many days after the confrontation.

These days I have no secrets from my wife. If I get the feeling it might be wrong, I don't do it. I discuss my friends on Facebook and don't accept friend requests from people like "Sizzlin Suzie." She has full access to every part of my life. It feels good to know I have nothing to hide. My wife is everything a man could want in a woman and more. I can now put her feelings in front of my impulses. By not doing things that may potentially hurt her, I have no fear of what she may find. My wife is all woman and all I need.

Guys, before you open up that mag or video with your buds, picture your wife doing the same thing. If you are comfortable with it talk to her about it. Turn about is fair play. But if that little voice inside you tells you it's wrong, listen to it. If we all spent more time listening to that small still voice the world would be a much happier place.

The End Is Near!

I know I'm not the only person who is reflecting on the events of 2010 today. I am truly grateful that I remember 2010. There are many New Year's Eves in the past that are a blank slate to me. Every day was New Year's to me because I would use and drink and say to my self  "I'm gonna quit tomorrow." I made resolution after resolution, night after night and was trapped in Groundhog's Day. I was trapped in tomorrows and yesterdays.

Today will be my second sober December 31st in a row. On this date in 2008 I stopped drinking for 10 days, then drank for 6 more. I have not had a drink or a drug since January 17, 2009. I had tried rehab in 1999 and had counseling after my accident in 1991. I would do okay for a while and then isolate. I am an isolating drunk. Sure, I went to bars occasionally but my favorite place to party was all by myself with a bottle and a box of tissues. Me and my self-pity are the fire and the booze is the bomb. When the three got together -  kaboom!

This is the most popular time of the year for people joining recovery groups. I have yet to see someone come in happy and smiling, stating with glee, "I just won the lottery. I am dating twins and I thought I would just stop in and see how you guys were doing." Some arrive because the court ordered them. Some come because their wife or husband gave them an ultimatum. Yet others walk in FINALLY realizing that they can't stay sober on their own. They need help from people just like them. I lived my life thinking no one was like me and here were all these me's of all shapes and sizes ready to help.

If you were lost in a jungle would you rather have a map or a guide who has walked that same jungle a hundred times and knows how to safely navigate the way out? The answer is obvious. Unfortunately the ego, fear and disease of "self" have worked on the alcoholic for a long time. It is hard to accept you have a condition or disease that makes drinking an unsafe option for you once you begin.

Our society glamorizes booze and promotes it as socially glamorous. These constant bombardments of fun and laughter that come with a cocktail are inviting to anyone, and damn near hypnotic porn to an alcoholic. The commercials remind me of the casino ads that show gambling, hot chicks, laughter and booze then end with a public service announcement. "If you or someone you know has a gambling problem call 1-800-I'm screwed!" The ads don't show the guy who can't stop gambling or the one who spent his paycheck on chance instead of paying the rent. Addiction starts out a wonderful servant and ends up a merciless master.

Most people can tie one on and that is it. They wake up with a New Year's Day hangover and lay on the couch drinking Gatorade and nursing a headache through endless football games. That doesn't make you an alcoholic. For those of you who are or live with a potential alcoholic I am sorry to say that there is nothing that you can say to make us stop. We must reach a point where the agony, self-loathing, depression, anger and chaos is too much for us to handle. In short we all have to decide for ourselves when the rat race of addiction is over.

For me it was January 17, 2009. I had drank all day and had pissed the bed the night before. There were times I pissed on the floor, on the couch, you name it. My Lab, Fabian, has actually pissed on my floor fewer times than I have. At the end of my run I would even fashion a diaper for myself knowing full well I would piss again but finding nothing abnormal about the behavior. I even bought my wife one of those mini carpet cleaners to clean up after the "dogs" made a mistake. On that night I begged to whoever was up there to please deliver me from the pain. I meant it and was willing to do anything to stop.

When I wet the bed my wife always knew but I hid it from the kids. After everyone left I would clean and suck the urine from our expensive mattress, wash the sheets and place fans around the wet area to assure dryness before my crew returned home from school and work. After 6 months of sobriety my wife was so proud of the new me she wanted to buy me a new drum kit. I was humbled by her amazing grace and the offer was tempting. I declined and took her to the mattress store and let her pick out the mattress of her dreams. I can say confidently and with deep gratitude to God that it has never been peed on.

If you are wondering if you are an alcoholic or addict the most honest answer to the question is what do you think. Only you know. Do you obsess that you may be an armadillo? I would think not. But if you are at a point where your ability to stop using when you want to doesn't work, or your life revolves around using, recovering from using or obsessing about using is a constant cycle, a hard look at the situation may be necessary. As a loved one there is support for people in addictive or codependent relationships, regardless of what addiction you may have. If you want to truly begin a new way of life look in the phone book. Start with the letter "A" and go from there. Before you know it, help will appear on the page. Whether you are the user or living with one, you have to wake up with you everyday. You are the only person that you are guaranteed to wake up with for the rest of your life. How are you doing?

I used to resent people who could drink safely and then put it down. I don't anymore. The thought of not drinking 5 years down the road at my middle daughter's wedding was impossible to comprehend. Now I just don't drink for today and tomorrow will take care of itself. Each one of us only has today, whether an addict or an earthling.

A lot of the justification I used to continue the cycle of addiction were notions and memories like, "Nobody loves me." "I am a loser." "I hated my childhood." " I can't tell anyone about the 'tickle game' a trusted adult played with me when I was a boy." "I can't live without booze. The pain is too much." All of these are symptoms of unhealthy thinking. Drugs and alcohol are the medicine addicts use to mask that pain.

Most of the things I wanted to be, but couldn't when I was drunk, have come to me ten fold. It feels great to have my wife and kids smile at me when I walk in the door. I am confident that I am a good husband, father, son, brother and friend. People can depend on me. I can look at myself in the mirror and other people in the eye. All the things I planned on doing tomorrow as a drunk, I am living sober today. It isn't always easy. I have to work hard at staying sober, as hard as it was being an addict day in and day out.
If I stay close to God and people who think like me it gets easier. I have no desire to use today. That is a miracle. I may crave tomorrow but I know what to do before giving into the craving. I call someone who has been through the same hell and pray for help.

Asking for help and surrendering is just the beginning. But sobriety is amazing. Just because you get tanked occasionally doesn't make you like me. Alcoholics know what they are, long before reaching out for help. We think we hide it so well and nobody can see our addiction. We are only fooling ourselves. I was amazed to find out that there were people who had the same crazy thinking I did.

Tonight I will sit back with my wife and daughter with some tasty snacks and Dave Chappelle videos. We will laugh and I will remember the whole night. I will wake up in a dry bed and thank God for giving me another sober today. Happy New Year!

Conquer A City And You're King...Conquer Yourself And You're Free...

By relating my visit to the loony bin and attempted exodus from this mortal toil, I shared one of my deepest secrets and unshakable regrets. I probably won't be getting any junk mail trying to sell me life insurance in the near future. If any of my doctors saw the blog they probably rushed back to their office to see what I checked off in the suicide and mental health issues categories on my patient history.

I usually end my chapters on a positive note. I like to provide hope for those who suffer from these brutal conditions and help their loved ones understand the way I think as an addict in recovery. I also like to stress that you are not alone whether suffering as, or with, an addict. There are recovery groups for virtually every kind of support a person needs. Check the newspaper or Internet in your area. One of the hardest things for me as an addict and depression sufferer is asking for help or sharing my pain when I am in the middle of it. But if I don't reach out my hand no one else can lend me theirs.

I don't want to bother my loved ones with my feelings knowing I spent so many years not taking their feelings into consideration. I don't want people to think I'm nuts even though I have a 'thanks for visiting' card from Hinsdale Hospital's psych ward. In recovery it isn't any easier to talk than when I was using. It's harder. When I put mind altering chemicals into my body the filter is removed between my brain and my mouth. I say exactly what I think no matter what damage it causes. It makes me think of that commercial where Abe Lincoln's wife asks him if her dress makes her bottom look big. When I was high I would say something coy but cutting like, "define big." I couldn't control it. It just spilled out. In recovery I often don't know how to explain how I feel because having real feelings is so new.

Part of the recovery process involves making reparations to people for the damage you have caused. To the addict it helps remove the baggage, remorse, guilt and shame that helped justify the highs and keep the madness rolling. The ultimate goal is to make peace with those we have hurt and make peace with ourselves and lighten the burden of being us.

I have tried to make these reparations to those I have harmed. Some of my confessions of responsibility have been met with amicable results. Some of them have fallen on deaf ears. Others opened up old wounds long forgotten. Many people dismissed my pleas having forgotten the issue altogether. When that happens I realize that in some instances my behaviors have not created the lifetime of anguish I supposed it did. I have also made some reparations that I considered insignificant only to find out that my actions had a huge impact on the person I had harmed. In either case, I have learned that everyone sees the world differently. What wounds one, bounces right off another and is unique to each of us.

When I got to this point in my sobriety I wanted the world to forgive me and pardon me of all my sins. I was sober after all! Look at me, I'm sober! To an earthling the quick reply would be, "So what. So am I." It is funny that once I was sober I wanted to be acknowledged for being a good husband and father, worker and friend, neighbor and citizen. All of these things that a non-addict has done so easily and faithfully for their entire lives is completely alien to the addict.

In my using days, if I received a bill saying I owed ten dollars to someone I would see it as an injustice and spend twenty dollars on booze or whatever to express my disdain for them trying to take my money. For me being "normal" is completely abnormal behavior! It gets easier as long as I stay sober but it is a daily challenge. When I was living my life in the total insanity of addiction, my mind warped itself into a new perception of normalcy. It had to keep the party going by convincing me that wrong was right.

There are things I have done in my life as an addict and human that I regret to the point of nausea. I can not change them. None of us can change yesterday no matter how badly we wish we could. The horror of my past behaviors and fear of the future kept me from living in the moment. To my addicted self the thought of feeling now was impossible. When I get into a dark yesterday or fretful tomorrow, I can't sit there long. I have to live my life from day to day. Sometimes moment to moment. Obsession is just as a ferocious foe to the recovering addict as the active user. If I sit in that spot too long my sobriety and life become jeopardized.

I take full responsibility for 50% of every relationship I have or have had with every human I have crossed paths with and will meet farther down the road. By living in today I see all the beauty and the challenges that right now offers. All we have is right now! Whether you're an addict or a Mormon our lives can change or end in an instant. I enjoy today. I let yesterday go and I'll face tomorrow if the good Lord sees fit to wake me up.

Scaring Away The Legends of Comedy in Three Easy Clicks... or "icks"

"When you take away the alcohol from an alcoholic you still have the 'ic'". Or "I gave up alcohol but the 'ism' is with me forever". These are two of the many catch phrases I have heard when I talk to people in recovery. They both apply to me because I still carry around a boatload of 'ic' and my 'isms' might just kill me! At the very least they still cause pain and discomfort to my loved ones, friends and myself.

In my blog I have shared some of the pain of addiction and the joy of recovery. I try to end each entry with a message of hope or a nugget of wisdom for the reader to chew on while waiting for my next post. I started writing this babble to reach out and inspire others, but in reality maybe it is to help cleanse ME! One of my favorite phrases is that recovering from alcoholism is no alcohol but I'm Still Me.

The "I'm Still Me" will be with me forever. I tell people that the only person you are guaranteed to wake up with every morning is you! If I get right with me, and God I will be able to get right with those I have walked over along the way. If I have created the impression that after you stop using everything is grand, I have done you a horrible disservice.

When you put down the "candy" that has been your crutch for years you are left naked and shivering in a world you spent so much time trying to avoid. The feelings and emotions you tried so hard to run from are bigger and bolder than ever. You no longer have the shelter and escape from your feelings or that instant ability to check out of yourself. Everything is real! The first few months after I stopped drinking were pure hell for me, my wife, my kids and everyone around me.

I understand all too well that addiction is a selfish disease. It is not the selfish we know as not sharing our cookies and crayons. It is an obsession with oneself. These selfish characteristics often contradict each other. I know I could be labeled as having a big ego. I use that mask so the outside world doesn't see just how little I think of myself.

When I get scared I get angry. When my kids were younger I was angry a lot. They saw anger, not my desire to protect and keep them from harm. When they did something that could cause them harm or injury to others I got scared inside. On the outside I was angry. I never could understand why the world did not judge me by my intentions. My intentions were usually pretty decent but my actions usually weren't pretty. As a kid, that's difficult to wrap the melon around.

Another one of my personality problems is my all-or-nothing mentality. I am either balls to the wall in a project or relationship or I'm disengaged and idle. There is no middle ground. If I can't do it perfect I would rather not try at all. My fear of failure or even success has kept me from taking a chance on so many things the universe has opened up to me. My ability to float in a sink or swim society is just not there.

Since I returned to comedy and acting in October I have switched into the balls to the wall gear. I have done more comedy gigs in the last 2 months than I did in the last two years. I have worked on 2 TV series and 2 movies. I started this blog and I'm still looking for a full time job. My drive to catch up for all the days I missed in la-la land has set me into hyper drive!

When I began to start writing my comedy again I became friends with some legendary comedians and touring comics through social networking and Facebook. My first friend hook-up was Tom Dreesen. Dreesen is a pioneer of comedy going back to his work with Tim Reid. He opened for Sinatra for years and still tours regularly doing comedy and motivational speaking. His frequent appearances on Letterman are hilarious and priceless. The second was David Brenner, a true original, author, talk show host and "Tonight Show" appearance record holder. Billy Connolly defriended me after request number one.

As soon as these two gracious, comic gurus responded to my messages my addictive personality hit them like a frontal assault. "Can you critique my jokes?" "Can you review my videos?" "Can you help me find an agent?" "Can you send me a signed photo?" "Can you give me a quote?" With each response I demanded more from them. I was relentless in trying to suck their comic knowledge from them like a vulture sucking marrow from a roadside kill. First they were accommodating, then distant and then gone.

I was so wrapped up in my drive for success and hunger for insights that I lost focus of them and their lives. These guys do more gigs and charity work in a month than most of us do in a lifetime! I expected them to drop everything and entertain my never ending requests. My "isms" were exposed like an open wound oozing with selfishness! My career! My needs, my, my, my!

The more sober I get the more alcoholic I see that I am. I just don't drink. I'm getting better but am still sick with self. I had something good but like addiction me, me, me and more, more, more became more important than the other people in my orbit.

Last night I bought autographed pictures of the two icons on EBay just like any fan would. They gave me alot but it was never enough! I got rid of the alcohol but I still have to work on my "ic".

The Keys To The Universe

That beer was followed by 2 or 3 more. It's impossible to know as I blacked out on my first drunk. In a section of my comedy routine I say that there are three stages to the family get together. One is "Hello, how are you? You look fantastic!" Two is "We have to do this more often!" Three is "I WAS FIFTEEN GET OVER IT!" The joke gets a lot of laughs but I think it's a pretty deep statement. When I drank there were usually three phases. First there was the happy buzz. Then I became the loving drunk. Last, it was a dark oblivion.

I should say early on that I am not anti-booze or "holier than thou." I just do not have the ability to stop drinking once I start. Casual drinkers have a cocktail to unwind or celebrate a holiday or event, to mourn a loss or forget a bad day. I drank to intentionally get drunk and to get away from myself if only for a few hours. It wasn't from a need to find relief from the world outside. It was from the fear, chaos and discomfort I felt inside being me. I hated being alone but always felt like I was. I could be at my own birthday party and be miserable or be at your party and be the center of attention. I had two personalities. I was either bouncing off the walls, making people laugh, being the ultimate court jester or feeling utterly empty, alone and afraid.

The moment the alcohol hit me it became the great equalizer. It warmed me to my very soul. I had the keys to the universe and felt like I could do anything. In that instant I was content with myself! All of my insecurity and self-criticism was swept away in the bubbles and froth! My big nose got smaller. My scrawny arms got bigger. My complexion got clearer and my mind stopped racing. But something else was activated in me at the same time. I needed more! I wanted to climb higher. I thought if a few drinks made me feel this good a couple more would make me feel even better.

I drank more to feel more or to feel less. I felt everything all the time. I lived emotionally, not logically. I reacted to the world instead of trying to navigate my way through it. When the stuff was racing through me it slowed my merry-go-round thinking just enough to make me feel like I was happy and content. But once my head and the room started to spin, my magic trip was about to come to a grinding halt.

The fun was over. I felt the familiar warning signs of a bad stomach. I staggered to my feet and stumbled down the hall. My buddies were giggling making more noise trying to whisper than if they were talking in their regular voices. The race was on for the bathroom and I lost. I lost everything I had drank and eaten and it felt like my stomach was going with it. From wall to carpet I left my mark in my best friend's new home. They tried to quiet me as his mother rushed down to see if everything was okay. I felt like I was dying and just beginning to live all in that horrible moment.

I passed out and woke up to my first hangover. I also was greeted with the humiliation, despair and remorse that would soon become my regular routine. My best friend was no longer my best friend. His parents thought I was a bad influence. Under the influence I am...