A Beauty and a Beast

A Sliver of Hope, a New Direction and a Genius Idea!

This blog is an updated version from September of 2011. It did not make it into SOUL PAROLE: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself. It will definitely appear in SOUL PAROLE: I Was and I AM.


SOUL PAROLE: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself is NOW available ON Amazon.com, KINDLE and Amazon Europe. 

Proceeds benefit Chicago Area addiction, homeless and mental health programs.

NOTE to reader: I write about addiction, recovery and depression. Those are my challenges and issues. Please replace the word ADDICTION with the word that best suits you. Fear, insecurity, envy, jealousy and materialism are just a few. Facing the things that are holding us back from reaching our potential and finding peace within is my purpose... 


My baseline thinking as an addict is usually me. I want the universe and all of its' atoms formed, or random, to revolve around my plans. Whoever came up with the expression "there is no ME in team" was not an addict. I can say that with almost complete certainty. It is not that we don't have feelings for others but that we are so focused on survival when we use it's a challenging mind set to overcome in recovery.

In my sobriety I have found that the biggest problem that fueled my years of self-destruction was the love-hate relationship I had with myself. I would wake up each day and hate myself more and more.Chemical escape enabled me to cope with my crushing self criticism   My addiction LOVED it. The more I hated me, the more I would turn to chemicals and booze to try and escape MYSELF temporarily. The next day I would wake up with an extra helping of self hate and some physical pain, guilt and shame to throw into the party mix. Then the mental "rope-a-dope" would begin again for another 24 hours.

 I realize now that I was using because I am wired wrong inside. It was my thinking. I had a twisted perception on reality. More precisely, I used because the people and atoms of the universe didn't act in a fashion that met with my satisfaction. As I grow in sobriety I have learned to like myself by letting the world do what it is supposed to do. I try to accept others as they are. Most importantly I try not to spend too much time alone in my head. I'm cool in a crowd, but when I'm alone a fight always breaks out.

Squeaky and I were going through a rough season leading up to the "Rally Round Recovery 2011." I was working on a film. I had just returned from California after a week shoot for an "Animal Planet" series. I am in final editing of my book Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, God and Myself. I am about to start 2 new films. I was working to promote the premier of "Chasing Hollywood." I was in hyper "ME" mode. This happens in sobriety and reality.

Squeaky's kidney surgery was scheduled for 2 days later. The doctors were not sure if they were going to take a portion of her right kidney or the whole thing. I cleared my schedule of EVERYTHING. I thank GOD for giving me the sense to do that. It was crystal clarity. I made arrangements to stay with her while she was in the hospital. They were very accommodating. It was one of the most fearful yet enlightening times.

As the time passed all I could think about was the stupid arguments leading up to that day. I questioned GOD about putting her through this instead of me. I was the idiot! After 28 years of trying to destroy myself an inch at a time, my health was perfect. My heart was shifting back to center. Why is it that we have to be in a big pile of shite with a loved one, or they're in an operating room or funeral parlor for us to look at how truly dear they are to us? It boggles my mind! We fight about wrapping paper and who ate my cereal? For the love of GOD who cares?!

The surgery went better than we could have imagined. They were able to use the Da Vinci robotic surgery method on her and as the doctor said, "if her kidney were a hamburger we only had to take two pickle slices." It was the greatest horrible analogy I have ever heard.  It did make me a bit crazy that they assign patients numbers now during operations. They have a television you can check like an arrival board at the airport to see if they are "boarding," "on the runway," "ready for takeoff," "inflight," "on the tarmack" and "safely on the ground." Her flight was near perfect.

He said she would be staying for 2 nights. Whatever she needed I would be there. They would know if it was cancer later in the week. She was medicated.  Her family was there to support her. It kept me calm. In post-op she smiled and spoke in tongues. She looked glorious. Every time she moved I jumped up, afraid she was in pain or going to fall out of bed. I was asking if she needed the nurse every time she winced. I contorted myself up in the tiny Hobbit like chair and slept with one eye open grateful that we had dodged a bullet.

Being the real alcoholic I am I spent the hours beating myself up. I also replayed my behaviors over and over. and realized I was not sharing enough of the projects I was involved in with my wife. I am proud she appeared with me in "Chasing Hollywood." My Squeaky is on IMDB as Pina Connor. That is the Cats Pajamas! But I used to read scripts to her. I used to read all my blogs to her. I used to consult her on every career move I was making, while I was making them. Her opinions play into my decisions on what road to take.

I can't tell you what we talked about during her 60 hour stay there. I honestly don't remember. We just talked and laughed like things were early in our relationship. We were focused on each other and I was in the NOW. I was right there and not so danged worried about the future. We laughed at stupid stuff. I fetched ice chips and cups of coffee. She's a java junkie. I can live with her addiction. It creates the jitters at worst. I started calling her sliver kidney. She chuckles at the nickname.

Everything I try to do is for the betterment of the family and marriage. When things are going wrong in my life, I need to look at myself first. The problem I often have is that I have a grand plan inside my head. It is carefully crafted. Sometimes I can't differentiate between what is best for me or us. That is an honest assessment of myself. She can't see my thoughts. She sees my head hunkered down in front of this laptop like a man possessed. Period. ACTIONS speak louder than thoughts. God calls the shots. I just show up for each DAYS game and try not to worry about making the playoffs.

We have some new challenges facing us now. We made it through one war, now there's another one shaping up on the battlefield. I know we can get through it if we keep our faith strong. I know that if I am sure that I'm doing the right thing, I do it. If I know it's a poor choice I don't make it. When I honestly don't know the road to take I sit back and wait. The answers will come when it's right, and I'm willing to listen to the messenger....

Beauty and the Beast....

A Sliver of Hope, a New Direction and a Genius Idea!

This blog is an updated version from September of 2011. It did not make it into SOUL PAROLE: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself. It will definitely appear in SOUL PAROLE: I Was and I AM.


SOUL PAROLE: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself is NOW available ON Amazon.com, KINDLE and Amazon Europe. 

Proceeds benefit Chicago Area addiction, homeless and mental health programs.


My baseline thinking as an addict is usually me. I want the universe and all of its' atoms formed, or random, to revolve around my plans. Whoever came up with the expression "there is no ME in team" was not an addict. I can say that with almost complete certainty. It is not that we don't have feelings for others but that we are so focused on survival when we use it's a challenging mind set to overcome in recovery.

In my sobriety I have found that the biggest problem that fueled my years of self-destruction was the love-hate relationship I had with myself. I would wake up each day and hate myself more and more.Chemical escape enabled me to cope with my crushing self criticism   My addiction LOVED it. The more I hated me, the more I would turn to chemicals and booze to try and escape MYSELF temporarily. The next day I would wake up with an extra helping of self hate and some physical pain, guilt and shame to throw into the party mix. Then the mental "rope-a-dope" would begin again for another 24 hours.

 I realize now that I was using because I am wired wrong inside. It was my thinking. I had a twisted perception on reality. More precisely, I used because the people and atoms of the universe didn't act in a fashion that met with my satisfaction. As I grow in sobriety I have learned to like myself by letting the world do what it is supposed to do. I try to accept others as they are. Most importantly I try not to spend too much time alone in my head. I'm cool in a crowd, but when I'm alone a fight always breaks out.

Squeaky and I were going through a rough season leading up to the "Rally Round Recovery 2011." I was working on a film. I had just returned from California after a week shoot for an "Animal Planet" series. I am in final editing of my book Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, God and Myself. I am about to start 2 new films. I was working to promote the premier of "Chasing Hollywood." I was in hyper "ME" mode. This happens in sobriety and reality.

Squeaky's kidney surgery was scheduled for 2 days later. The doctors were not sure if they were going to take a portion of her right kidney or the whole thing. I cleared my schedule of EVERYTHING. I thank GOD for giving me the sense to do that. It was crystal clarity. I made arrangements to stay with her while she was in the hospital. They were very accommodating. It was one of the most fearful yet enlightening times.

As the time passed all I could think about was the stupid arguments leading up to that day. I questioned GOD about putting her through this instead of me. I was the idiot! After 28 years of trying to destroy myself an inch at a time, my health was perfect. My heart was shifting back to center. Why is it that we have to be in a big pile of shite with a loved one, or they're in an operating room or funeral parlor for us to look at how truly dear they are to us? It boggles my mind! We fight about wrapping paper and who ate my cereal? For the love of GOD who cares?!

The surgery went better than we could have imagined. They were able to use the Da Vinci robotic surgery method on her and as the doctor said, "if her kidney were a hamburger we only had to take two pickle slices." It was the greatest horrible analogy I have ever heard.  It did make me a bit crazy that they assign patients numbers now during operations. They have a television you can check like an arrival board at the airport to see if they are "boarding," "on the runway," "ready for takeoff," "inflight," "on the tarmack" and "safely on the ground." Her flight was near perfect.

He said she would be staying for 2 nights. Whatever she needed I would be there. They would know if it was cancer later in the week. She was medicated.  Her family was there to support her. It kept me calm. In post-op she smiled and spoke in tongues. She looked glorious. Every time she moved I jumped up, afraid she was in pain or going to fall out of bed. I was asking if she needed the nurse every time she winced. I contorted myself up in the tiny Hobbit like chair and slept with one eye open grateful that we had dodged a bullet.

Being the real alcoholic I am I spent the hours beating myself up. I also replayed my behaviors over and over. and realized I was not sharing enough of the projects I was involved in with my wife. I am proud she appeared with me in "Chasing Hollywood." My Squeaky is on IMDB as Pina Connor. That is the Cats Pajamas! But I used to read scripts to her. I used to read all my blogs to her. I used to consult her on every career move I was making, while I was making them. Her opinions play into my decisions on what road to take.

I can't tell you what we talked about during her 60 hour stay there. I honestly don't remember. We just talked and laughed like things were early in our relationship. We were focused on each other and I was in the NOW. I was right there and not so danged worried about the future. We laughed at stupid stuff. I fetched ice chips and cups of coffee. She's a java junkie. I can live with her addiction. It creates the jitters at worst. I started calling her sliver kidney. She chuckles at the nickname.

Everything I try to do is for the betterment of the family and marriage. When things are going wrong in my life, I need to look at myself first. The problem I often have is that I have a grand plan inside my head. It is carefully crafted. Sometimes I can't differentiate between what is best for me or us. That is an honest assessment of myself. She can't see my thoughts. She sees my head hunkered down in front of this laptop like a man possessed. Period. ACTIONS speak louder than thoughts. God calls the shots. I just show up for each DAYS game and try not to worry about making the playoffs.

We have some new challenges facing us now. We made it through one war, now there's another one shaping up on the battlefield. I know we can get through it if we keep our faith strong. I know that if I am sure that I'm doing the right thing, I do it. If I know it's a poor choice I don't make it. When I honestly don't know the road to take I sit back and wait. The answers will come when it's right, and I'm willing to listen to the messenger....

A Sliver of Hope, a New Direction and a Genius Idea!

My baseline thinking as an addict is usually me. I want the universe and all of its' atoms formed or random to revolve around my plans. Whoever came up with the expression "there is no ME in team" was not an addict. I can say that with almost complete certainty. It is not that we don't have feelings for others but that our addiction demands 100% percent of our attention.

In recovery I have found that the biggest problem that fueled my years of self-destruction was the love-hate relationship I had with myself. I would wake up each day and hate myself more and more and my addiction LOVED it. The more I hated me, the more I would turn to chemicals and booze to try to temporarily escape myself. The next day I would wake up with an extra slice of self hatred and some physical pain, guilt and shame to throw into the party mix and the games would begin again for another 24 hours.

For years I thought I was using because the world was all wrong! I realize now that I was using because I was all wrong inside. It was my thinking.  I had a twisted perception on reality. More precisely, I used because the people and atoms of the universe didn't act in a fashion that met with my satisfaction. As I grow in sobriety I have learned to like myself by letting the world do what it is supposed to do. I accept others as they are. Most importantly I try not to spend too much time alone in my head. It can become a Wall Street riot up there in a jiffy.

Now sober I work a lot with other alcoholics and addicts new to recovery. I donate time to fundraisers and causes because I am grateful to give back this gift that was freely given to me. I will never give back enough. God and recovery groups gave me my life, family and a purpose to live.

Squeaky and I had been going through a rough season leading up to the "Rally Round Recovery 2011." I was working on a film. I had just returned from California after a week shoot for an "Animal Planet" series. I am in final editing of my book Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, God and Myself. I am about to start 2 new films. I was working to promote the premier of "Chasing Hollywood." I was in hyper mode. This happens in sobriety and reality.

Squeaky's kidney surgery was scheduled for 2 days later. The doctors were not sure if they were going to take a portion of her right kidney or the whole thing. I cleared my schedule of EVERYTHING. I thank God for giving me the sense to do that. I did bring a galley copy of the book that I intended to read as Squeaky lay in recovery. I made arrangements to stay with her while she was in the hospital. They were very accommodating. I never once opened my book.

As the time passed all I could think about was the stupid arguments leading up until that day. Why is it that we have to be in a big pile of shite with a loved one, or their in an operating room or funeral parlor for us to look at how truly dear they are to us? It boggles my mind! We fight about wrapping paper and who ate my cereal? For the love of GOD who cares?!

The surgery went better than we could ever have imagined. They were able to use the Da Vinci robotic method on her and as the doctor said, "if her kidney were a hamburger we only had to take two pickle slices." It was the greatest horrible analogy I had ever heard.  It did make me a bit crazy that they assign patients numbers now and have a television you can check like an arrival board at the airport to see if they are "boarding," "on the runway," "ready for takeoff," "inflight," "on the tarmack" and "safely on the ground."

He said she would be staying for 2 nights. That was okay with me. They would know if it was cancer later in the week. She was medicated.  Her family was there to support her and me during the day. It kept me calm she smiled and mumbled in post op. She looked glorious. Every time she moved I jumped afraid she was in pain or going to fall out of bed or needed the nurse. I contorted myself up in the tiny Hobbit like chair and slept with one eye open grateful we dodged a bullet.

Being the real alcoholic I am I spent the hours beating myself up a bit. I also reviewed my behavior and realized I was not sharing enough of the projects I was involved in with my wife. I am proud she appeared with me in "Chasing Hollywood." My Squeaky is on IMDB as Pina Connor. That is the Cats Pajamas! But I used to read scripts to her. I used to read all my blogs to her. I used to tell her every career move I was making as I was making them.

I can't tell you what we talked about during her 60 hour stay there. I honestly don't remember. We just talked like we are supposed to when we are focused on each other and I am not so danged worried about the future. We laughed at stupid stuff. I fetched ice chips and cups of coffee. She is a java junkie. I can live with her addiction. I started calling her sliver kidney. She chuckles at the nickname.

Everything I do is for the betterment of the family and out marriage. The problem I have OFTEN is that I have a grand plan inside my head. It is carefully crafted and at the end of the rainbow she will not have to work. We will work together spreading a message of hope and recovery to alcoholic/addicts and their loved ones. She can't see my thoughts. She sees my head hunkered down in front of this laptop like a man possessed. Period. Actions speak louder than thoughts.

Oh! by the way we both stopped smoking. She had to for the surgery. I suggested she had a new lease on life. My birthday was coming up in a week so I said let's quit TOGETHER. Right when my boat starts sailing straight I shoot a cannon ball right through the bottom. Yep! I'm a genius!

When All That's Left is Laughing or Crying....

It seems like the words just flow sometimes, other times I can't spit out a two word sentence. When you're a wind bag like me you can't let that stuff get bottled up. It's like that old joke about the monkey, the pig and the cork. It can get very messy inside and out if I keep the cork in too long.

I used to let life get bottled up inside me until I unplugged the bottle and sought liquid or chemical relief from my worries, fears and emotions I couldn't process. Booze was like letting the air out of the tire that was me. The more I drank the less pressure I felt until I felt nothing at all, was left flat and was of no use to anyone. I've always felt that God put nerve endings on the outside of me and that left an empty spot inside. I feel everything to the nth degree. Emotion is palpable to me whether their yours or mine.

When you get sober, you are faced with feelings and situations that the normal thinking mind takes for granted in its dealings. My addicted mind is baffled and amazed sometimes at new feelings I have never bared to face. Sometimes it's euphoric like that of a baby's first taste of ice cream. At other times it seems like a portal from my past is thrown open to a memory and feeling so oppressive I am paralyzed like that same child's first experience that leaves them frozen in their booties.

I now face what I spent years so desperately trying to escape from. I am grateful that my kids came out bright, polite and out of sight. I owe most of that to my wife. When they remind me of some logical piece of advice I gave them while they were growing up, I attribute it to God. I was always great at giving advice. If I listened to any of it that I dished out, I wouldn't be writing an addiction recovery book today. That is until lately.

My eldest daughter Hemi is in from Germany. She is madly in love with her husband. They truly are best friends. The culture shock of living in another country is far beyond what she imagined it would be. If you read my earlier chapters I drove her away at age 18 when I had stopped drinking and took up the pot cure for alcoholism. Being natural, endorsed by Native Americans and being part Cherokee myself this made perfect sense at the time.

Now we are in a good spot. Then, although I was not drinking, I just switched from booze to drugs to "prove" to myself I wasn't an alcoholic. I wasn't treating the source of my addiction. That problem was my inability to deal with life logically, "on life's terms" only emotionally. I was a dry drunk by recovery terms.

We are great friends now. We are daddy and daughter in the true sense of the definition and I admire her greatly. I see a lot of me in her. The artist, the adventurer, the in your face, ready to grab life by the short hair mentality that I instilled in her as a teenager is vibrant today. When it comes to advice on her situation with marriage and what to do about the whole thing, I tell her to talk to her husband and the father...leave daddy out of it. It's not because I don't care. It's because I don't know. I am mature enough to say I don't know now.

For years I felt the need to be right or have an answer or opinion on every subject. I felt compelled to take a side in all arguments even before I had all the facts. It was a part of my insecurity with myself. I didn't want to appear dumb. I also thought I knew what was right for everybody in the universe. I am comfortable with the words, "I don't know" spilling from my lips now. I am at ease with keeping my pie hole shut also. I will always support my children and will go to the ends of the earth to help them when they sincerely call for it. I will not call the plays and control their situations. I created a lot of resentment and made some wrong calls doing that for Hemi and lost her for a while. I will not do it again.

I did tell her that marriage is tough no matter where you're at. The first year can be the worst. There is no such thing as 50-50. One person is always giving in more or taking more. Balance is the key. The question I ask myself with Squeaky is "How important is it to me to fight this battle right now?" Do I want to ruin my day or hers? Is it that I truly disagree or just wish to disagree? Is it better to endure a little discomfort to make her happy, or give both of us a lot of discomfort by going against the grain? Things work out one way or the other.

Sunny is still out there doing things I did for all those years. It kills me. The drugs of choice today for young adults are legal and can be bought at age 18 from many cigarette or cigar stores. She thinks the world is against her, that no one knows pain like hers and she is running with some troubled people. At 18 there is little I can do. She lives with her donor father. That leaves me even more powerless. He seems to be oblivious. We pray, we call, we love. She makes up stories ad infinitum. I wonder if this is the come around from my go around.

You may think me cold for letting her go right now, like we do not care. It is quite the opposite my friend. I let her go because I do. I can no longer enable her to control my life and that of the rest of this family. She needs to hit her bottom. Then I will be there like the calvary, with arms wide open. Until then I pray and trust that God is looking after her. She is an adult. It was not until I lost everything that I reached my hand out for another to help me. It was not until I begged God for mercy, instead of a favor, that I found freedom from addiction.

I am at the point where I am stuck between a giggle and a sob. There is so much going on in that three and a half inches behind my eyes and my mouth. I am glad that I have a God who hears my prayers and angels earthly and ethereal who guide me and look out for her. I am grateful to feel everything even though at times I think I might explode. That empty spot is filled with love and faith, hope and growth, laughing and crying. I lost so many years to addiction and depression. My darkest day of sobriety is better than my sunniest day drunk. When Sunny comes back I'll be there to listen.