Little Women Huge Hearts

There are often people who you meet on your journey that can impact your life forever. They are messengers of hope. They are angels on earth. They often don't know how much their words or actions shape others. They're not in it for the praise. They are in it, to give it.

In my journey through sobriety, and in the pursuit of my dreams two women changed the direction of my life. They shaped my dreams. They pushed me along not knowing that they touched my life and do for so many around them. Their names are Denise Baran Unland and Michelle Jo Whitmore Sanchez. One is an author and features writer. The other is a filmmaker who specializes in faith based films.

I first met Denise when she interviewed me for the local paper about my journey. We became fast friends. Her service work to God and Man is tireless. From home schooling her six children, to starting a church in her own backyard, Denise motivated me and helped edit the book you are reading.

As I began to write Denise shared the experiences and challenges she faced in the writing of her first book "Bryony." It is an amazing piece of literature. Based in the late 1800's Bryony is a vampire novel that is rich in history, classic literature and a snapshot into the romantacism of the Nineteenth Century.

Deep in her faith Denise penned a novel that is devoid of the sex, violence, foul language and horror that are the common root in the classic vampire book. I devoured it in only a few days. I turned to her for counsel on on the possibility of writing my own book. After reading a few blogs she said my story might help change the lives of addicts and gave great insight into the world of addiction. I was flattered by her praise after reading such a masterful work as Bryony.

Day after day I would call with questions about formats and reference pages, proper writing and punctuation. My manic obsession with my writings never seemed to phase her. She always took time to ease me off a literary cliff or calm me after a temporary set back.

While we spoke she was busy home schooling two of her children. The other 4 have passed through her classroom already. As we spoke more about her job as a features reporter for the Sun-Times Media Service her specialty floored me. Along with the latest news she focuses on those who have died and brings them back to life again through her stories recounting their amazing works while living. She brings their voices back from eternity to share the extraordinary feats of ordinary people who no longer speak for themselves. Hope is her mission. Shining light upon others her focus.

As she shared more and more about the service work she did in the community it sparked my interest to serve. It was weeks before we met after many conversations about God, hope and making a difference. Serving others comes as natural to her as breathing itself. Her faith is unshakable. From working with Big Brothers-Big Sisters to offering guidance to novice writers like me, she never once said no to somebody reaching out for help. I could never have completed Soul Parole without her direction, editing and advice. Our friendship is forged forever.

As I grew in my sobriety and my film work was moving from that of being an extra to feature work in commercials and films I met another amazing woman. Michelle Jo Whitmore Sanchez is a filmmaker and owner of Take 9 Productions. Sanchez specializes in faith based films and positive role models. Her specialty is rare in the film business these days. I am sure her works will help the genre grow by leaps and bounds. She is unstoppable.

During the summer of 2010 Michelle called me and asked me if I was interested in a small part in her film "Just Kneel." I was to play a recovering addict who finds faith and works to save others from life on the streets. It was my first faith based film. I know it will not be my last. The most intriguing thing about my part in the film was that after a few written lines Michelle wanted me to share my journey to faith. It was unexpected. It brought MY journey and faith to the story. I was taken aback by her trust in having me shape the film with my testimony.

Sanchez has written several faith based films including "Revision 7," "Heal," "Dancerball," and "Zapketball." All of them are aimed at bringing people to faith. They touch the nerve of our humanity and our daily struggles with freewill and putting our trust in God. I am honored to have my imprint on "Just Kneel." Michelle changed my life by further instilling in me the desire to share my story of addiction and my journey to faith.

I have met many people in my new life of sobriety. Denise and Michelle have showed me we can all make a difference. We all have gifts we are meant to share. We are all messengers here. God guides us. We do the footwork. I am grateful to have such driven friends in my life. They keep me centered and focused on my mission.look for Denise's riveting book at bryonyseries.com and Michelle's works at take9productions.com. You will quickly see why I am proud to call them friends. 

A Christmas of Love and Extra Hands of Hope....

On November 13, 2012 I was 3 months away from the anniversary of my third year of chemical free sobriety. My dedication to service work to those in need was at an all time high. I couldn't imagine my life without it. From helping others in sobriety to lending a hand at an area food pantry my life was rich with the desire to serve.

About that time a friend I had worked with as a movie extra came to me with an idea to start a toy drive similar to "Toys for Tots," mobilizing actors and extras to help the less fortunate. I loved the idea from the start. My all or nothing mentality set in. This cause was ALL IN for me. My mind began to brainstorm on who and how we could make it happen.

After working in several underserved neighborhoods on the South Side of Chicago in the past, I wanted to center our efforts there. In the inner city poverty, foreclosures and the jobless rate is double that of the national average. I did much of my work in Englewood where crime rates are high and the pressures of the economic downturn are clearly visible.

I called my church and asked if they could put me in touch with a community support organization on the South Side. They gave me names of worthy local programs and one in Englewood. It was as if God had directed me to the place I wanted so desperately to reach out to. The name of the organization is Urban Youth Outreach (urban7.com), a safehouse for underserved and homeless kids situated in a home at 63d and Union. The fearless man who devotes his life to the kids, and GOD, is Pastor Keith Vosler. I told him what we were trying to do and set up a meeting.

On my first trip to Urban Youth Outreach I was unaware that the home was located in the middle of a powerful gang controlled part of the city. I had been given the address and was looking for a church. I pulled down the street and pulled over waiting for the Pastor to pull up to what was the safehouse. I did not realize I had parked my car in front of a gang leader's home. I was  concerned when two cars with blacked out windows began driving past my car repeatedly. I quickly realized that it was not a good situation.

One of the cars began to pull along the side of my car. The window rolled down slowly and the driver was slouched down behind the wheel with just one eye peeking over the door. I knew instantly I was in trouble. My window was rolled down. I prayed and waited for his next move. I have been around the city enough to recognize he was a street soldier positioned to shoot.

 He asked if I was in the right place. I looked at the car as I spoke, careful not to show disrespect as I answered his questions. I replied that I was looking for Pastor Vosler. He never sat up, but told me he was in the corner house. I thanked him and breathed a sigh of relief. The car slinked away back to the areas he was protecting.

It wasn't long before a tiny white man pulled up in front of the home. He was all of about 5'7" and had a smile that was infectious. I have to be honest that based on our conversations, and the fact that we were in the middle of a stretch of African American churches, my mental picture was of a Black Minister with a swagger and unshakeable purpose in helping the kids.

I was instantly captivated by the conviction of this man, and the fearlessness that glimmered in his eyes. The house is more of a compound than a church. It truly is a safehouse. The Pastor quickly informed me that the houses down the street where I originally parked were home to street liutenients who commanded over 100,000 soldiers in the city. I thanked GOD again and knew I had chosen the right place for the drive.

During our previous discussions the pastor explained to me that the ministry served more than 200 plus families and several kids living on the streets. The house provided safety, food, games and access to computers, along with words of hope and a message of faith. After our talk I decided to expand the drive to clothes and books along with toys.

I returned home and began to work on a name for our cause. I came up with "Extra Hands of Hope." I drew a basic concept for the logo. It was a peace sign made of hands. A local graphic artist Victor T. brought it to life. The logo was amazing. It far exceeded my rough sketch and wildest dreams.

I immediately began to call the casting companies in Chicago. I contacted both extras casting and principal casting companies. The first on board was Atmosphere Casting owner Jon Kinnas, Joan Philo of JP Casting and Darlene Hunt of Extraordinary Casting. They all agreed to join in the cause. Jon offered to be media contact. Darlene offered field support and Joan said to call if we needed anything else.

I was amazed that the competitive nature of the 3 was cast aside to embrace a worthy cause. The next step was to secure drop box locations for toy, winter clothing and book donations. A plea on Facebook got the ball rolling. As we moved forward I approached the 3 biggest principal casting companies to see if they too would take part in our mission. Simon Casting, Paskal-Rudnicke and O'Connor Casting all said yes. Some have told me it was the first time that all of the cities casting agencies had come together for one common project. I was grateful to all of them and felt GOD was making things happen to make the drive a success.

The logos were printed. Jeffrey H., a Sag insider, offered a donation of 20 drop boxes. Jay D. promised to get the Screen Actors Guild involved. I reached out to several "Ma and Pa" stores and community centers to see if they would allow a drop box at their location. Not one of them said no.

Every day I made impassioned pleas to the Facebook community to join the cause. With well over 100,000 actors in Chicago I knew we couldn't fail. Along thwe way friends began to offer their help. Jeffrey H., Jan and Kera S., Theresa C., The Bolber family, Charmane W. and Randy B. were my elves. After trying to run the show alone I saw that as in most cases reaching out my hand to friends was needed if we were to reach our goals.We also took on two more organizations bringing the total number of families we hoped to serve to 800.

The drive was to run for 30 days between November 17th and December 17th. 16 locations were secured around the city. The casting agencies put notices of the drive on their home pages and Jon Kinnas did a press blast announcing Extra Hands of Hopes' mission. Boxed were put in place and I sat back and waited for them to fill up with everything the families needed to make Christmas extra special.

Yahoo Contributor Patricia B. ran a story on the cause (appendix). I was certain the city would embrace the idea. I was certain that as in "A Field of Dreams," if we built it they would come. I could just sit back and drop off the thousands of donations to Keith back at Urban 7. For the first few weeks things looked shakey.

Everyday I posted what we needed. I was emailing my drop box locations like a man posessed. I felt like a tv preacher trying to get people to "fill them boxes." I waited for the press to jump on the story. The casting agencies devoted more announcements and even pages devoted to the drive. Still there was no media pick up.

For the first 2 weeks dribbles and drabs of items began to come in. Charmane W. recorded a song to encourage people to give. I am confident that it will be a song known to many as we make the event an annual event. We moved from collecting only new items to "gently used." That would be the ticket. My prayer life couldn't be stronger. With every call I made to my satellite elves there was only a couple items in the box or nothing at all. I prayed harder but I can honestly say that I was discouraged. I was concerned about the kids and didn't want to let them down.

Meanwhile Jan S. and Jeffrey H. were making things happen on the North Side. The halfway point came and it looked like we would only be able to help about 25 families. There was no way we could accomodate the original goal of 800. I bought the website extrahandsofhope.org. I was beginning to see that a month was too short of a time frame to collect the amount of resources needed. Jon did another press blast. Paskal-Rudnicke, O'Connor and Simon Casting all had postings. Where had I gone wrong?

As we closed in on the collection date of December 15th I was happy for what we had accomplished to date but disappointed that I had not brought corporate sponsers into the mix. My own disdain for Big Brother got in the way of doing the best for the families. People shared kudos and posts congratulating us on a job well done. I set my goals so high I was having a hard time seeing just how much we had done.

On the the 14th we began to collect items from the boxes. Charmane covered the downtown. Pert cleaners on Irving seemed to be a fountain of giving. Randy had collected several items of his own. As we made our rounds to clear the drop boxes our cars began to fill up. Jen had a warehouse lined up for us. Kids were joining in. Police officers hopped on board. We were beginning to see things shape up at the finish line.

We assembled at the warehouse and were astounded at what we had. Darlene, Jon, Erin and Jess from Girls Gone Casting, Jennifer from Paskal-Rudnicke, Claire Simon all came in at the end with huge personal donations. We were blown away with what we had amassed. I finally felt the beauty and generosity of the actors and agencies around this beautiful city. I had been overwhelmed by the logistics and almost missed the spirit of the Christmas Season.

We counted and sorted. I had rented a truck for the haul down to Urban7. Pastor Vosler had assembled a team at the house and we were ready to rendesvous at 3pm. There were clothes, coats, toys, books, bikes and every conceivable item. The two funniest donations were a can of pumkin filling and a karate outfit. It was all the more encouragement as it was a bitter cold day as we sorted. Theresa was dressed as an elf. We had Santa hats donated to us. We laughed and shivered our way as we organized the booty.

By the time we had finished we had hundreds of coats, shoes, kids outfits, books, jeans, toys, stuffed animals and various odds and ends. We would meet our original goal of helping Urban7's 200 families. I was grateful to have such wonderful friends and supporters of the worthy cause. I imagined the smiling faces of the kids and gratitude of their parents. I felt Christmas joy bubble up inside me. It warmed me to the core.

We made our way to the safehouse. The cube truck I had rented was completely full. As we arrived at Urban Youth Outreach there were small children dancing and singing by the gates excited to see what the truck held inside. The Pastor's army of volunteers began to pur out and move the haul from the truck into the house. A team of missionaries had come in from Arizona to help sort the gifts for distribution to the families during the annual community dinner.

At the last minute we were shocked and amazed that a few groups outside of ours were delivering packages to the center directly. I was extra grateful because I wanted others to see the amazing work the Pastor was doing in the community. It is a place where some kids get their only meal and clothing from. I pictured them with a shiny new toy as they returned to the street. I prayed for them that they would find safety and a home.

As we finished up the drop Pastor Keith explained that he treated a gun shot wound a week at the home. These are mean streets where he had set up the home. The little man with the big heart was fearless. Stories of kids coming to the compound with guns and intentions to shoot other youngsters after losing basketball games left us gasping. Our respect for the Pastor's mission grew. He is truly a miracle worker.

Jeff and I left the outreach feeling blessed that we were making a difference. It was another example in my life that I can't go it alone. So many people stepped up at the end and took us over the finish line. We warmed ourselves in the truck and began talking about Christmas 2012. My plans are to make Extra Hands of Hope a full time charity. This time I will put my feelings aside and approach every store and corporation I can find. A council of elders will be in place to relieve me of the burden of such a massive undertaking. We will start months earlier instead of weeks. I will have a game plan in place.

My wife asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I thought about her question and couldn't find an answer. I was filled with the joy of giving. My normal practice of self-criticism had been pushed aside. I told her I was grateful for whatever her and the kids chose. As we sat opening gifts on Christmas morning I couldn't help but think of the kids in Englewood. We had made a difference and put some smiles on tiny little faces. Pastor Vosler told me the items were gone within hours and the new gifts were distributed at the dinner.

God gives me all I need and more. It is so easy to forget those underserved and overlooked in our world and city. I get frustrated when people say the folks in the inner city have the same opportunities and resources we have in the suburbs and nicer city neighborhoods. It is just plain not true. I would suggest to those who hold that philosophty to take a ride down to Englewood for an afternoon and come back and chat with me again. I defy anyone to return with the same thoughts about the area.

I am grateful to all those who helped, donated and were drop locations for the first year of Extra Hands of Hope. It will certainly become an annual event. I have the elves in place. They took a simple plan and turned it into a beautiful reality. My worry that the kids would not be served was for naught. God came through working through his people. He always seems to amaze me with his grace when I least expect it. I am humbled by his surprises.

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....

ALTERED-To Make Different Without Changing Into Something Else

ALTERED...to Make Different Without Changing into Something Else...

This week I was blessed to play a part in the movie "ALTERED". It is being shot around Chicago and Atlanta and is a Kely McClung film. He wrote, is directing and is one of the lead actors in the horror/suspense film. "Vampire Diaries" star, and McClung favorite, Robert Pralgo also stars in the film. McClung and Pralgo have that chemistry like Scorsese/ Deniro, and Soderbergh/ Damon. It is evident on the set and easy to see in their onscreen flow in "Blood Ties" and "Kerberos." Add to the mix Jessica Imoto Harney, the line producer and assistant director on the film and the trifecta bounce ideas like super balls, catch them in mid-air, slip them in their pockets then lay them on film flawlessly.

It was cool to be in those moments as both a spectator and player. The synergy between the triad is palpable. McClung sees everything. The air becomes a part of the shot and the world is in the scene. Nothing is taken for granted and overlooked. Yet nothing is contrived and set design-ish. I worked with Steven Soderbergh several days on "Contagion" and he is a gentle genius with a keen attention to detail. Kely is the same but he takes it to another level. He sees the world like a canvas and uses all of it. His senses for a scene, sound and light include taste and touch. Each moment captured is an experience, not a picture.

ALTERED is going to be a success. Period! It deals with balance, the hardest thing we have as humans to deal with. I know it's my Achilles heal. There's work and family, yes and no, this project or that, what's right and what's wrong, good or evil, get up or sleep the day away, use or stay clean. This film gets down to the true meat of the issues that trouble man and gets to the core of "what's it all about?"

As a recovering alcoholic/addict and depression sufferer who lived both functionally and in the streets homeless, hopeless and rudderless for 28 years the lines can be blurred. I did things then for survival that I now consider terribly wrong. My addiction was a loyal servant then a sadistic master. I thought God wanted me dead. I now see He had my back the whole time. I have done more for my fellow man in my few years of sobriety than my entire life as an addict. That's the way He wanted it.

A man who steals milk for kicks is a thief. A man who steals milk for his infant child is still a thief but the line becomes blurred. The balance shifts on the morality scale. A thief is a thief. I would never wish to kill a man but would do anything to protect my family. Anything. The part of balance I get now is that if I fall I get back up again. I don't have to stay down. I don't always have to fight. I can choose to stay in the center of the seesaw. Sometimes the best balance is not trying to figure it out and just being content with riding the beam.

Look for more on ALTERED at thealteredmovie.com and on Facebook search "The Altered Movie". This movie will scare you, keep you on the edge of your seat, freak you out, leave you guessing and most of all it will leave you thinking and questioning. I love flicks like that. I dig films that open up dialogue and make people engage the tough universal puzzles we try to put together down here. ALTERED pushes all the buttons. I am proud to be a part of it. Thanks Kely, Imoto, Robert, ALL the crew. You guys rock. I will never forget being a part of the ALTERED family. PEACE!

Be Careful What You Pray For You May Get Humbled

Since December 9, 2010 when I began to write this blog I have shared the joy and pain of my life in addiction and recovery. More importantly, I have stressed that you can turn your dreams into realities with hope, faith and the hand of a friend. This is a fact for all of us, not just the elite or special few. We are all armed with the same tools. If we don't let our fears of success or failure impede us, the sky is the limit.

I have spoken of my years of addiction and homelessness. Sharing my journey to faith and peace with myself and family has been rewarding. I have been blessed beyond my wildest expectations. Things I once thought impossible are now just challenges I face with confidence. I can overcome anything if my motives are pure and my connection to my faith is open and working. When I go it alone and only seek counsel from myself, I am set up for sure failure or discomfort.

Last year I was blessed to appear in several TV series and films. I wrote a book that is finally going to be published. I was given feature spots in a few independent films and TV shows. I played Zanies.  I started a charity and helped several of the under served. I was unstoppable. I had pure motives and God showered me with blessings as I lived my life serving others. It wasn't karma. It was the universal law of my creator that if you share blessings, blessings will befall you.

As my career in acting began to offer more and more opportunities I asked God to keep me humble. I went as far as to ask that if I ever took my many blessings for granted that he take it all from me. I was serious. I have seen far too many people become jaded or aloof from their success and wanted nothing to do with it.

Then my world came crashing down. Within a few weeks my funds dried up. Projects fell through. My money reserves went dry. I fell into a horrible dark depression. I alienated myself from my family and friends. Most importantly I had stopped praying to God for guidance. I only turned to him to share MY PLANS. I was running the show again and my life spiraled out of control. My self will took me from the top of the mountain to one of the darkest valleys I have ever fallen into.

I found myself working in a factory. I was grateful for the work. I did what I had to do to make ends meet. I was right back where I was at age 20! Spending my evenings on the night shift from 4pm to midnight left me with plenty of time to reflect. I could barely handle the physical pacing of the job. Emotionally, I was at the lowest point that I had been since I got sober. My dreams were gone.

As I toiled to keep pace with the assembly line work it dawned on me. GOD HAD ANSWERED MY PRAYERS! I had prayed for him to take it all from me if I ever took my life for granted. HE Did!

I spent hour after hour recounting the last several months of my life. I realized that I had begun thinking I was creating my own success. My spiritual life became less important. Helping others became sporadic, then non-existent. I was distancing myself from my wife, kids and those who had helped save my life. Work and ME were my focus. God decided to step in after I stepped out of right living.

It was crystal clear. I was isolated again. I was going it alone. I was leaning on my own understanding and fell right on my face. Now I was stuck with 8 hours a night of nothing to do but think, think, think!

I saw my wife on weekends only. Before starting the job our marriage was at an all time low. I saw everything wrong with the world. Each night more and more I saw what amazing gifts I had been given. I began to pray to God again instead of say to God. I begged for mercy like I once had at the end of my using days. He answered my prayers once more.

As I began to put God, family and others at the top of my priorities list opportunities began to open. I became a better husband, father and friend. I saw that serving, thinking and being with, and about others, was the key to my success. My relationship with God was what made it all possible. I had just done the footwork.

One week ago I left the factory a new man. I saw that my life was amazing. I had much more than I needed. I saw the beauty in my life. My pride had returned to humility and gratitude. Suddenly jobs and auditions began to come again. People in recovery reached out to me and I began to serve others again. I dove back into my faith. The unmanagability of my life, discomfort and pain of isolation were lifted from me.

I have been blessed to see many old friends over the last few days. Job opportunities are increasing. My marriage is stronger than ever. My kids say I'm a different man. I am! I have been given yet another second chance.

I do not believe in coincidence. I do believe in the power of prayer. My personal relationship with God needs to be nurtured and developed. It is the most important relationship I have. When things are right with him all of my life seems better. Without him I isolate. I withdraw. I start thinking I can go it alone. I begin to believe I have all the answers. I end up miserable.

I have heard it said, and believe, that God has 3 answers to our prayers, Yes, Not Yet, and I have something DIFFERENT in mind for you. He listens to my prayers. He gave me what I'd asked for. As a loving God he didn't take it away for good. He needed to show me just how he had been working in my life when I lived it through faith.

When I want to go it alone, like any good parent he lets me run ahead and fall on my face once in a while. Then he picks me up, dusts me off and we start walking together again. I am grateful for that. When I walk alone I end up lost.

If I Could Eat My Words I'd Never Have to Shop Again!

f I Could Eat My Words I'd Never Have to Shop Again! 

I am grateful to GOD for giving me a sense of humor. I am more grateful that HE has one too. As an actor, comic and writer, part of the gift of that humor is that I verbalize the things that people are thinking but don't have the nerve or need to spit out. That's great because it keeps guys like me, philosophers, pundits and poets in business. Tom Dreesen told me that Carl Reiner told him early in his career to "show people your pain." I have always done that in my act. I poke a lot of fun at myself. People identify with the daily mishaps of just trying to get by.

The distance between the frontal lobe (MY MELON) and the voice box (MY BIG FAT MOUTH) is only a few inches. I have seen many pictures of the brain. It looks to me like chubby Ramen Noodles mixed with Silly Putty all smushed together and placed in an airtight bonehead container. It's quite a fascinating looking machine. When I am told that we use less than 10% of it I am appalled. What the hell is flying around in the other 90% of the noodles that we don't use?! The few I am trying to get a rise out of are driving me and everybody around nuts!

I need to call the people who design filters for water or furnaces because I have a bit of a problem. In my personal life those same skills that make me a funny comic or good improv actor sometimes make me a poor communicator. That's PC talk for sometimes I say exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time and I can't help it! I want a filter between the Ramen Noodles, The Silly Putty and my pie hole!

As a recovering alcoholic/addict the problem is doubled because we learn to use words as weapons of mass destruction like fists, knives and passive aggressive napalm! We find our loved ones' tender spots in passionate moments of weakness, trust or sweet confession and BAM! If we get pushed the wrong way we will pull that sweet secret you never told a soul and spit it in your face like rattle snake venom. 

In recovery that doesn't just disappear. It slowly goes away but I still have my moments. I'm not beating myself up right now. Don't worry I'll do that when I get to my rant about procrastination somewhere down the line. I am just becoming more self aware of some of my character flaws. Some of the time I am hilarious. Yet other times I can be critical and hurtful and not even realize I am doing it.

The power of a word is more damaging than a fist in my estimation. Both are violent. A sore chin will heal. The wounding of the mind through criticism and demeaning can be crippling. A perfect example is that there were many times my wife called me an alcoholic and every swear word her Berwyn upbringing could conjure up, and they meant nothing to me. The day she called me PATHETIC was the day I took my last drink. Why THAT was the word that pushed my "get sober" button GOD only knows. 

The point is that a few simple letters put in a prearranged form said at the right time, under the right conditions had a life changing impact on me. The biggest argument my wife and I EVER had was about...wrapping paper! Yes you heard it...WRAPPING PAPER. Left to it's own proper use wrapping paper is associated with joy and gift giving. In the context of the argument it was connected to my ex-wife and it was a hot button for Squeaky. We were screaming. There were attorneys involved in the uproar. She shouted that I was an "Oedipus Complex!" I spat back that she was an "unclean female dog." It really got ugly. By the time we got home we had pulled over and stopped to laugh at the fact we were going to divorce court over...Wrapping Paper.

The most frequently mentioned subject in the Bible is our words and how we use them. The second is fear. Usually the two go hand in hand. I have a tendency of shooting my mouth off when I am scared of losing something, someone getting hurt or someone hurting another person I love. At that point the Ramen Noodle-Silly Putty-Tongue is connected. That is dangerous for me and something that I am working on. The quick wit and snarky comment work great on stage and for hecklers. Not so for family and friends.

I am trying to incorporate a few new rules into my personal behavior for rules of engagement. These help me with human relations and how comfortably I live with myself. They are as follows and are not all my creations. Most of them were taught to me:

1. I do not have to be right nor have an opinion on everything. 
2. It's okay to say "I don't know."
3. I refuse to have arguments with people unless they are actually there!
4. The phrase "hold your tongue"... can actually be done.
5. When I am unsure of what to do, phone a friend is good. 
6. When I react emotionally so do other people!
7. Doing NOTHING when I am unsure is acceptable.
8. I do not have to jump into every conversation I meet.
9. Whatever dress I want my wife to wear... pick the opposite one so she wears the one I like.
10. Turn to GOD more often Tom. When you lean on his words you need less of your own... 

Soccer Moms' at the Food Pantry? YUP!

"Soccer Moms' Please Drive Thru"...

As an addict I have a thing about taking on baggage. I love baggage big and small. I hoard it. The more emotionally painful the package the more I can obsess about it. The more rotten the deed done to another in my past the bigger the package grows in my mind. I caress it and beat myself to bits with it. From a passing comment probably not even meant for me to a second grade fist fight, I remember it all. I have a database of emotional unfinished business that used to make my life unbearable.

The pressure, guilt, remorse, shame and self-loathing created the need to try to escape myself for those many years through bottle and drug. Addicts live emotionally not intellectually or logically. Our emotions make our decisions in most cases. I reacted emotionally then would sort out the fallout from my behavior. We remember everything by our PERCEPTION of the emotional impact people and situations had on us or we had on them. That is why we create chaos in others lives. It is for the emotional insanity and drama. It is our ultimate drug. Chaos.

As our mind clears and we begin to work recovery strategies we try to reduce the baggage which in turn lessens the desire to use. We begin to feel comfortable in our own skins and minds. We try to go back through the rubbish pile that was our past and clean up the joint. The people we have hurt and lied, cheated and stolen from whether it be financially, emotionally or physically are met face to face and we come clean with a sincere desire to make things right. Sometimes it works out and there is a happy ending. Other times we get a dressing down. Still other times we are told that we had no impact at all.

 All of the reactions are growing experiences and are important if long term sobriety is to be achieved. If a flower wants to grow it needs space in the pot or its' roots will rot and it will die. The same goes for drunks like me. I was going crazy from all the baggage. As I have cleared it away and made peace with my friends, family and self (to an extent) life gets better. God has given me the strength to stay clean and my mind is less packed with that crap. The worries, fears, pain and shame of who I was that paralyzed me is now setting me free by cleaning it up.

Now I am able to look at people in the eye with confidence and honesty. I can be a true friend. I can be of use not a user. I can sit with Tommy Connolly and not want to stab the guy in the eye with a fork! Wherever I run to I will always be there to meet me. That is a fact. It gets a little bit easier to hang with me the more I get right with God, man and me.

There are some people I can't make things right with. Some are dead. Some have new lives and I can't disrupt their happy harmony with my horror show rewind. Some I can't find but am ready to make things right if I find them. In these cases I try to be of service in other areas. On one occasion I stole something from a store that I could not go back to for fear of Shaw Shank Redemption. My mentor had me buy dog food in the amount of the item taken and had me take it to the humane society. Perfect! Karma square! I felt better that I was able to make the situation right. In a few years I will go back and make the situation right with the store. The point is that baggage was removed and I am a bit more okay with me because of the cleansing.

Yesterday I went with a friend to work at a food pantry here in Joliet. It is called the Family Outreach Food Pantry. I did not go there for any particular reason. My buddy called me at 6:10 am and asked if I wanted to volunteer at the food bank at 6:30. At first I was miffed because I hate to be late. Its' part of the new me. The only thing I was on time for in the past was beer sales and fresh bales. I said sure, and away we went. I can tell you now that God had my friend call me. There are no coincidences.

My vision of a food bank and food lines takes me back to my grade school history classes and the "Great Depression". You remember the old films and the market crash of 1929. There was the dust bowl and the people getting broth put into tin cups. I had a vision of homeless people coming up to the food bank and us handing little packages to the less fortunate. You know? It was going to be people in ratty cars and ripped clothes and winos and all the stereotypes I try so hard to fight when it comes to the labeling of alcoholics, addicts and those who suffer from mental disorders. I was doing the SAME thing before we got there.

We arrived at the tiny tavern parking lot where the food distribution point is and my friend was assigned to traffic control. WHAT? Traffic control at a food bank! He had the vest and the cool little flashlight with the pointy orange end on it and everything. I was jealous for a minute. I was assigned to fill orders. That was to put the boxes of food into the vehicles as they pulled up. This is where the story gets interesting, horrifying, eye opening and real folks. The real state of the STATES.

As the cars began to pull up I was taken aback. This can't be! There were a few beat up cars and a few homeless folks walked up whom I greeted with a grateful hello and a "God Bless you." The vast majority of the cars were "Soccer Moms." There were cars of all makes and models right up to a Tahoe with leather interior. The common denominator was all of these people "needed" food. There was no scam. Some folks looked down as I put on a smile and made a quick joke as to let them know it's a beautiful day as I slung the food into their back seats.

Single parents' pulled through with babies strapped in and we offered extra bread to those who wanted it. Every single family wanted it. Like alcoholism and addiction the people in the line to receive the food were a perfect cross section of Americana and it blew me away. Some folks looked as though they had stopped on break from work or were on the way to drop the kids at school. It was heartbreaking and gratifying at the same time. It is a day I won't forget.

In 90 minutes we handed out 300 boxes of food. When that ran out and we had only bread left people were happy and humbled to have a few loaves of that alone. I went home and sat silent for awhile. We are in trouble in this country. They have the food pantry every week and turn away more and more families.

I stood in front of my fridge and looked at the food and saw that our pantry was filled and it made me think of the times when I have said there is nothing to eat when in fact there was plenty. There just wasn't what I WANTED TO EAT in the fridge or pantry at that moment. I will be back to help again next Thursday at the  pantry.

 I remember not having food. I remember not wanting food because it would take up space my booze needed to fill. I also remember eating garbage when I wanted to eat and had to use my money to buy the booze. I've seen it from all sides. I think if there is anything that I can leave you with it is be thankful for what God has given you... and more thankful for what he hasn't...