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Source: Sharon C – Sunlight of the Spirit (2021) – Speaker Talk – Date Unknown.mp3 File: sharon-c-sunlight-of-the-spirit-2021-speaker-talk-date-unknown.mp3 Duration: 01:16:32
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Thanks Bill. It's not going to bother, right, if I turn this on? Okay, good. Got on my timer. Oh my gosh, I'm Sharon, I'm alcoholic. Well, I got to pee, but other than that. And I just, I love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, and everybody that stood up and, you know, I love the girl that was called out for 25 days by our sponsor. Get up there. Everybody that stood up in the clumps, I had spoken to each one and something in the times that we're standing up in, and it was just so awesome to see the diversity here of the most beautiful hearts and soulful women I have been with in a long time that I remember.
I used to have them out there, but that I can remember. I will take all of your love home, and I promise I will spread it around, and the first thing I'll do when I go in my house is I will get on my knees and clean my cat box, because I'm just another one bozo on the bus with the rest of you, you know, and sometimes I get to sit in the front, sometimes I sit in the back, and you guys are all a lot of fun.
I'll sit anywhere with you. I'll go anywhere with you. This is a way of life. I like that the way of life is in here. It talks about following directions in the old, in the original. It doesn't, as we understand him, isn't in there. Complete, complete amends, complete, God, I like that word, and that, you know, just on our knees. There's so many good things in here that I just do, that I never even really thought about until I started to give it away.
You know, it didn't come real until I started to give it away, because I came to you broken. Alcohol, King Alcohol was my running buddy at the end, and my mother cried when I joined the carnival. She was my hero until about then, and she said, you did what? And I thought, you know what? I can't call home anymore, because I had already not been able to ride in the car with my dad, sit at the breakfast table with my father, be part of that family.
I was the only alcoholic. Nobody shook the tree. Nobody showed up. I think I might have had a grandfather that was a gambler, but later on in life, I got to tell you, my oldest sister, the hero child, saved us all from a fire when we were six, because she used to read Nancy Drew or something, and she knew how to stop the fire in the room and in the hallway with wet towels and calling the neighbors, and we were in a small town in Iowa, and you had to call the fire department out.
You know, they had to get out of their beds and come to the fire station and come, and we were out in the country, and my parents were across the river at a party, and they didn't believe her when she called, and somebody was drinking, I guess, and hung up the phone, and then she called back, and then they came running over, and my sister contained the fire and saved her siblings. So she was a hero, and she was also brilliant and had a full ride to an Ivy League school in New York City and got a master's degree at one of the universities there, and then she went on to make a lot of money and move to Paris and be able to marry a man in Columbia that became a lawyer, and they had a great life.
And took my mother around the world after my dad was killed and took care of her when my dad had, what was it called, nursing home insurance for my mother back then. We used to have the insurance man come to the house. He liked to drink. He also played Santa Claus because I knew the smell. I knew that was him. The insurance man was playing Santa Claus, and we always gave him a bottle. We always gave him a bottle, so he was having fun.
But my dad had nursing home insurance for my mother. That's the kind of family I grew up with. People thought about things. They cared for each other. We could have emotions. You just couldn't slam the door when you got mad, and you couldn't get up from the dinner table without some manners. And my older sister was always reading, always preparing to get out of Iowa. She was. She was smart. She had it going on.
She was Mensa. She was brilliant. And a few years ago, when my mother ran out of the nursing home money, they kept her in this beautiful place, which was just a beautiful place up in Madison, Wisconsin. And it was $6,000 a month.
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And we all contributed a little, me a little. But my older sister and her husband took care of my mother until she didn't even know she was out of my dad's money. That's the kind of people I grew up with. And then Charles died a few years ago, brain tumor gone, two months. And my older sister, the Mensa, the brilliant one, the hero child, my protagonist my whole life, all through school, well, you're smart, but not as smart as Nancy.
Well, you're good on that sax, but she plays the French horn, and you can sing alto, but she's in the American chorus. And, you know, wasn't ever really on the middle of three girls, and then my brothers last. And a few years ago, after Charles died, we went to the home in Bucks County, beautiful home in the country. And she had been wandering around in her nightclothes through the forest. It's foresty there, in the cold, asking people for food.
She showed up in somebody's sliding door on Mother's Day and sat there, and they heard some noise and came down, and she said, is breakfast ready? And she was losing her mind from drinking. She has Korsakoff syndrome. She's lost a lot of her brain, and she's fallen and had brain bleeds. Not my sister. Eighty-one countries they went to, I'll ask her. What about those lemurs that dance down in Bolivia that you went to see?
What about being on that boat in Antarctica? What about, she doesn't remember any of it. She knows me. She knows us. I can trigger a memory. She's sweet as pie. She used to be kind of caustic to me. Of course, I didn't know she was drinking that much, so she started separating herself from me. And I only saw her rubber-legged drunk once. Once. So it was a surprise to everybody when we found my sister hoarding in a mess, cat litter everywhere, paper stacked.
Alcoholism doesn't care. It doesn't care who you are or where you come from. If you've got that in you, it started doing something for her she didn't know in the five quarts a week. That's what the liquor store said, the guy who was giving her. And there was a wine cellar that you couldn't have – we would have had about a ten-year party with all of us, even as much as we drank. And there she is, unwashed, bruises, glasses broken.
And she doesn't know she's sober. She doesn't know she's been sober for almost two years now. But she knows she can't drink. That's what she knows because the doctors told her. So there you are. That's the latest on this beautiful non-alcoholic family. That's the latest on my older sister, the protagonist, that all my life I rebelled against. All my life I knew I couldn't be as good as her. All my life I was told that by people that didn't really know what they were saying.
It was a small town. All my life I rebelled against that kind of adulation. Alcohol was on board. Canadian Club and Schlitz Beer, my first night sitting on the hood of a 57 Chevy on a woodsy with the Mark Clark and Glenn Clark brothers. Flat-chested, yeah. I had my trainer bra on, didn't know what it was training for, but we were out there. We were out there, yeah, girl. You hang on to menopause, you get a little, you know.
But there I was, you know, just skinny-legged, short shorts, T-shirt, barefoot. Here I was. Oh, my God, there they are, the football boys. There's the cheerleaders with their little mohair sweaters on, sitting there in the sweater in Iowa. What are you doing tucked into your little shorts, your little socks rolled down with those white sneakers? She turned sideways and missed 38D. I knew why she was wearing a tucked-in sweater.
A couple of slugs on that bottle of Canadian Club and some Schlitz Beer chaser, and I won the chug-a-lug contest. Move over, Jeanette Andrews. They're waking up. I guess I drove a car. I was 12 going on 13, and I had a great time, and I woke up sick but just ready to do it again. And I went to church, and I said my three Hail Marys, and went to communion because that's what you do, a couple of perfect acts of contrition.
I was in and out of that confession all the time fast because I'm lying to the priest. You sneak in something like, well, I slept with my best friend's boyfriend, kind of in between that you stole something from your mother's purse and you lied to the teacher, and I slept with my best friend's boyfriend. Because he wasn't listening. And I get the three Hail Marys, and I'd say to him,
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I'm going to Dancemore Ballroom tonight, I know what's happening. Those boys from Iowa City got the booze in their car because I can smell it when we're dancing slow with the V-neck sweater and the jade east and the English leather. Where's the smell of booze? And if you didn't have it on that slow dance, I'd go to the next one. I was good at finding it. My dad had a business, so he had bottles that had dust on them, you know, peach brandy, Everclear, slow gin, all that good stuff, and I'd just steal a flask and steal a bottle.
And your dad would get ready to go hunting, and he'd go, where's the flasks? He was beginning to wonder what was going on. And I had a car, and I'd get stuck, and they would pull us out. We'd be somewhere, and the farmer would have to come out and get his tractor and pull us out of the mud. And he'd go, aren't you Frank's daughter? I'd go, oh, crap. And I got picked up by the highway patrol, and they said, aren't you Frank's daughter?
It was like, oh, I've got to get out of here. Yeah, everybody knows I'm Frank's daughter. And so I went 30 miles from home because I had a boyfriend to college. I could have gone to Colorado. I had some money being thrown at Colorado for me to go. And I went to the University of Iowa because it was close to home and I had a boyfriend. And after about a year of that, maybe, yeah, about a year of that, I went driving by the sororities one night, and there he is thanking his tutor under the streetlight on the lips.
And I just, I think that's my fiancé there. And so I waited for him to go home, and I got myself in with a key, and I jumped on him and started pummeling him after I drank some Schlitzmalt liquor, a whole six-pack of that stuff, and waited for him. And I got madder and madder and madder. But he's a wrestler, and I'm on the ground in two seconds. And I'm spitting up at him, and I'm mad. And he let me go, and I drove home to my mother's that night.
And I'm drunk, and I'm sitting at the table, and she gave me milk and Oreo cookies. And she said, aren't you going to cry? And I said, no, not going to cry. And that's the first time I remember being hardened up. Alcohol hardened me up. I didn't have to cry about that guy. I could just move on. And that's how it started to be. I crossed the bar pieces of my soul, one by one by one by one. And after about a year of, it was the late 60s.
It wasn't just say no, it was just say thanks. That's all I'm going to say. And we ended up doing a lot of marching, a lot of angry things, a lot of throwing bricks through windows, a lot of things that I wouldn't have done. But I'm fueled on King Alcohol. I'm fueled on anger. I am fueled. And my dad says, what's wrong with you? You look funny. You act funny. And I said, you want to know, Dad, let me tell you.
And I told my dad things he didn't need to know. He didn't need to know what happened in that fraternity house one night, but I told him. He couldn't do anything about that. I wouldn't give any names. You want to know, Dad, you can't fix me is what I was telling my dad. You can fix everybody in this town. You have people come and sit in your house, sit at your table, and you straighten them out. Either help them financially, figure it out, or you loan them a car, or you talk to their wife, or you try to help him with the children.
He would have people come and sit there and have a cup of coffee with him. Sometimes they'd have a drink. My dad didn't drink much. But he could help everybody. But I knew he couldn't help me. I played the accordion. Just because my dad was Czech and he played the accordion. So I risked playing the accordion in the Boddicker Accordion Band in those little towns that had sauerkraut day and beef day and heritage day, and it would be a big festival, and they'd bring the Boddicker Accordion Band, and we'd sit there in those hay bales, and oh, my God, a hangover sitting on hay poking in your behind.
And I had a hangover, and then you had to pull on that accordion. It was so loud. And Mrs. Boddicker would stand up there in her high heels, not even tethered into that wagon. I don't know how she did it. She'd be directing us with her fine little body up there, and everybody waited for the Boddicker Accordion Band to come by, and I was in it. And you had to bellow shake. Now, try doing that with a hangover.
You didn't have to shake the accordion to make this noise happen. But I knew my dad would be about two blocks down around the corner, so I risked the boys from Iowa City would be there and go, isn't that fun little girl we were dancing with last night playing the accordion? And I wouldn't want them to see me, but then we'd go around the corner, and I'd see my dad and his buddies there, and he'd be elbowing them and giving me a thumbs-up, and yeah, that's my girl.
up and yeah that's my girl and but it was over between me and dad I had to
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slide across the bar the love of my dad because he set his John didn't look at me in the eyes for eight years eight years this great man took care of all of us loved us cared about us sat at the table with all of us if he'd start to say something negative my mom's little foot would be on him and I'd see him stop we had love in that house but somehow somewhere I wasn't worth it now where did that come from I knew God loved me I knew that and it changed it changed somewhere and I had to slide across the bar the love of God I had to slide across the bar what I thought was a loving God and that was a day maybe King Alcohol said hey we're going to New York City you want to come oh yeah let's go it's in the Playboy Club all night long it's a you know walk in Central Park meeting the guy playing the the floutest in the park I don't remember his name we go home I say come on we're going to go through the eaching we're going to go read some palms we're going to see what our life's all about I got a free knowledge just I met in the West End bar every Friday would read the bumps on my head to tell me where I'm going in life that was my guidance that and King Alcohol and I I saw Looking for Mr. Goodbar if any of you ever saw that movie you know what it could have been me it could have been me we are soul survivors where our souls survived as long enough to get here maybe a lot of other things didn't survive along the way but our souls survived to get here to be have that moment of grace that gets us in the seat of Alcoholics Anonymous where there is hope where there is hope where there is hope that first of all there will be a new way of life given if you want it hang on to the seat things pass I never knew that it was like I remember being in the French Quarter I did that for two and a half years after I got out of jail in Bogalusa Louisiana don't go there to go to jail but the carnival didn't want me anymore I was macing people on the midway I didn't want to give away teddy bears even my sweet dog was biting people I was drinking my tequila and I just I just bought this flash I just hung this up I'm not giving you a teddy bear I don't care if you want a little boy go wind your father and they would and then the dads would come and then the fight would start and I'd have to bring out my mace and then everybody got into the fight because that's what they did I mean we were best friends when it came to that but the rest of it when I was in jail nobody came back and brought me any cigarettes all my best friends they didn't come back to get me out but we were best friends and we were all in this take again and I became somebody that was a total taker and not caring not caring about little boys or human life or a lot of things changed a lot of things changed and my mother cried when I told her what I was doing then and I was in the French Quarter I didn't pay my light bill oh my god didn't pay my light bill and they're gonna turn it off and it's 10 of 5 or something you know it's almost 5 o'clock and it's across Canal Street that's another world if you live in the French Quarter and you're a quarter rat we go out you know we go in when it's dark and we don't go out until it's dark again and that's the way we lived but I went and I made it the cabbie came I had my to-go drink and I'm in the cab when we get there and I get to just get in and I pay it and I come back and everybody at the bar wouldn't know if I made it I mean that's what we did we celebrated that I made the light bill you know nothing was not nothing was wasted everything was I mean I don't know I met lots of lots of you in the bars you know I was the artist in the bar I was an artist I had a slide across the bar my art talent had to do it you had to do it when I was has second year in the University and I had a professor OTA I don't remember nice people for the people that weren't nice to me although I do remember Harriet Crasnowich because she was in I worked at an ad agency in New York City and she was a two-hour martini lunch drinker every day took us all out every day for two-hour martini lunches I do remember Harriet but professor professor OTA said you know I was drunk coming from Joe's place maybe smoking a little coming across the footbridge to the art department and I would okay we're creating what are we creating and so I put paint on me and I laid on the canvas and passed out all right so they kind of let me go and wake up and go my way well the next week I'm back and I go oh there's a big slice of orange on that what am I going to do now so I put paint on the other side of me I don't know if it's blue and I laid down again I'm drinking and I'm passed out and he said to me if you come every day every day I'll give you a C- but every day don't you touch that paint I was like just go away and it was like
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okay you know I had my one finger peace sign by then I'm not all about peace and love this is my anger fueled by alcohol in the world why are they treating me this way don't they know I don't care so there I am not my dad and I couldn't ride in the same car couldn't sit at the same table I couldn't talk to him about anything you know when our dog that we had for 14 years growing up died my mother told me not my dad and my dad and I loved that dog together I remember I found a postcard we're going through my dad's things that he had written to me and I guess he kept it somehow because it came to the home of course because that's where I was living as a little girl and it talked about Zippy the dog and how he missed me and my dad and I shared that dog so when the dog died he couldn't even tell me my mom had to tell me because he couldn't talk to me anymore I heard him so badly so thank God for complete amends thank God that we've got a chance to rub out the record as Chuck C used to talk about and I know that you know I went down I mean I was in jail I there I am I mean this what is wrong with her I got kicked out of the organic farm because I'm a drinker you know they sipped their little organic dandelion wine or something and I got to go get some cheap wine with the quarters because I painted mailboxes that was my job on the organic farm paint mailboxes but I was growing some Maui Waui back in the woods that was my organic project 12 loads of sheep dung short growing season yeah about 10 feet tall beautiful so when they left to do primal therapy somebody got some money and they all left and they didn't ask me and I'm here I got some cheap wine and screamed at the sheep they'd all go one way and they come back and I scream at them again and they all go another way so I had my primal me and the sheep had our primals and so yeah I want to get out of there before they came back because they didn't like me and I didn't like their hootenanny music I was awful tired of Pete Seeger and that five-string banjo he couldn't play bum titty bum titty and he'd always miss the bum and get the titty and and you know and then the snow is falling and they're sitting around and they're sipping their little things and they think that this is wonderful and it's like I'm rocking in the rocking chair and I'm reading mother earth news and I went oh get me out of here I don't know the man said let me take care of you and he was a liar because we had a wood stove and you wanted to make tea you got a chop and split wood it was crazy so I'm a drinker and I'm buying cheap wine and they left to do this and that was the it was the growing season was over and I harvested that stuff by horseback and put it in some hefty bags and drove to this college town to get out of here and that's how I end up joining the carnival because I forgot the crop back on the farm and I turned around and there was the carnival and I have really good ideas I don't know about you but I thought I'm half Czech there's a lot of gypsies and in Slovakia Czechoslovakia Bohemia is where actually my family was from I think I think there's some gypsy blood in me I'm gonna go join that carnival and I did I got a job with Matt Armstrong shows I was got my shooting gallery in there what sealed the deal is that I drank tequila with him but that I had a trailer hitch on my car because I could pull my shooting gallery joint that was all folded up in a trailer so I call my mother from Arkansas I said hey mom I left the farm and I'm in Arkansas and I I'm shooting gallery in that Armstrong shows what's that a carnival oh my god I said mom I'm writing a book because it was always it's not my fault mom you know I would say you're not I'm not hurting anyone but me stand back and watch me die is what we should say that's what we should say stand back and watch me die mom stand back and watch me die dad grandma and grandpa and everybody when I was first over my my brother said I would call home at like the holidays and they'd all be at grandma's house and and my mom would answer the phone and I was in my first year and any of the holidays I would call when they were all together and she could off the phone and they were to come I'll gather around the ants and my brother would listen to how Sharon doing I didn't even know they noticed how Sharon doing and my mother would go she's in a because she knew nothing about it except it was anonymous so she didn't say it out loud but they know it was a good thing and my mother started to sleep at night because I was with you I was with you and she was she knew her her daughter was and so there we go then you know I ended up in this jail and my dad came to my call my
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brother-in-law they didn't care I finally got a phone call that I had they had miranded me and I knew that was illegal so I started screaming at them and they've two days later they handed him through the bars they said shut up and they come in at night and they pick who they wanted literally but now I'm having DT's I had not been with alcohol in my system I had I had oranges with alcohol shot in it at school I mean I was not without once alcohol got me we were on board see King alcohol took it all and I said out let's just go let's go I don't care I don't care about that boyfriend I don't care about that dog I know that cats running free somewhere that broke my heart when I realized the loyalty of those animals I still cry over some of them at night some people had a choice to be with me or not be with me but those animals didn't they didn't they told me they shot my dog they come in at night but they left me alone because she's crazy because I found a little piece of glass and I make cuts all over my face and arms things that showed I always want to have fresh blood they'd come at me and I'd go like this because I'd they had pointed you know everything was weird without alcohol till I met the guy making his own Apple pruno the murderer which was exciting you know I don't know he was the only guy making his booze in there and I got it but my dad came when I was looking like that with unwashed I took one shower because they watched and they came in at night and did what they wanted but they left me alone because of my DT's and my fresh blood and there I am they put me in this room they take me I'm handcuffed I'm a mess and I walk out of my dad's stand in there it's a judge a bail bondsman and a lawyer all he had hired the lawyer and the bail bondsman and they got the judge to let me out and by day I slid to the floor and I sat there and I asked my dad about it when I was 20 years sober don't go home and rip off scabs be guided be guided by a sponsor be guided by somebody that's gone through the experience this is an experiential program Sandy my friend used to say the big book is not the treasure is the treasure map and if you want to know somebody who's been through the you know been through the trade found their treasure and knows how to go through the treasure map which are the steps of Alcoholics Anonymous in the book get a guide you're not going to go out climbing a mountain without a guide that says you got to have water you got to have some food you got to have some equipment to keep you warm yeah and so get a guide because they've got the experience they know what you need along the way but they're not going to do it for you god I was such a good manipulator I didn't even know how to make a buttonhole and I got an A in home ec because I manipulated my mom into everything everything I was such a good manipulator I manipulated myself such a good manipulator I manipulated myself and my my dad wrote a check my dad said all I said but I said I don't remember that day very much you know how we are you go home and you say hey dad you remember the day that you know you came to see me in that jail in Bogalusa you know do you remember he laughed yeah I had to get on a plane I had to bring my checkbook I had to rent a car yeah I remember it's like you know if you've already paid me for it it was on your list your men's list the financial most alcoholics no money yeah yeah he remembered we laughed and then I said what I say I don't remember it he said all you said every time they asked you a question was that you weren't guilty and it wasn't your fault because I believed it I believed that they found all that stuff they took me off to jail my took my new boyfriend to jail he had a skunk named crank I'll tell you a little bit about him he was with the carnival and that's that he and crank went to jail and me and my dog but they said I found my dog and then I ended up in the French Quarter and then it was from that point on from the from the carnival on I had lost my humanity I had lost my caring for the world I had lost that I loved Gandhi when I was little I had lost that I knew God was love it was gone it was gone I was now a taker and I met a lot of you in the bars you know there's always an astronaut a lawyer doctor you know there's there's always all kinds of people in the bars to help you out Oh financial wizard you know all of us you know and I was just taken whatever it was I take I remember I broke a bone in my foot walking
[00:30:02]
And I was dancing for Chris Owens on 500 Club on Bourbon and, I don't know what it is, Bourbon and St. Peter, I think it's still there. My son went on a tour of Mom's, he was down there working on a movie, he said, Mom, give me some of your spots in New Orleans. And he saw Chris Owens and he went, oh my God, Mom, you're such a geek. He said, it's like, oh my God, she's still there. But I fell off the piano too many times.
I got stuck on the palm tree with the props and they put them up with staples. And my fishnets get stuck on the palm tree because I'm drinking Cavasier with a trumpet player. And I'm hanging out on this, and the spotlight's on me for my dance. And I'm stuck with my fishnets in the staples. So I'm trying to slither around and get it out, you know, in the spotlights. It's a live band, they're paying my number.
And I'm trying to do a little number while I'm slivering and pulling, right? I finally just yanked it off. It seemed like my whole leg went through the side of those fishnets. And I asked for a raise. Because the crowd loved it. I don't know about you, but they said, I think that you better find another career. So I became a bartender. But I broke this little bone in my foot because I heard it go crack when I'm trying to get to my favorite bar.
So I get there and they're looking at my foot and say, oh yeah, okay. So the lawyer says, where did it happen? I'm going to talk to the city. And the doctor's looking at it just to check on it. I said, you know, I think we can fix this. And the bartender said, I got duct tape. Good bartenders always have duct tape. So we left my platform shoe on. We took the duct tape and we wrapped it around and wrapped it around and wrapped it around.
I mean, he set it beautifully. I don't even feel it when it rains. I do not. He set those two little bones beautifully. And I had to wear that duct tape in that one shoe, I don't know, two weeks maybe, maybe longer. And I could never find another platform to quite fit it, the size. So I'm like always limping around and, you know, it doesn't really matter. But, you know, you find whatever you need in the bar.
You find him. You know, you find him. And maybe he's him right now or maybe something better will come along before midnight or two or three or four or whatever the bar time closes. Not in the French Quarter it didn't. And I got 86 from two places. Now I'm going to kind of move on my drinking. I get 86 from the Bastille. No, the French Quarter, that's a local bar. And I went in to pay my bill because I had gotten some money.
And Billy said, you're out. I said, what? He said, you're out. The owner says you can't come in here. I said, I'm paying my tab. And he said, look up. And the ceiling fan was broken. And I said, what happened? He said, well, you were dancing on the bar. I said, oh, that's why I had a hole in my head up here with some hair pulled out and very sore. And I guess it got stuck. And the fan went me around.
But he wasn't mad about the fan. He was mad about the high-end bar, the Bacardi, you know, the Chevas. That's what I broke. I didn't break the Well Whiskey or the cheap stuff, the Smirnoff and all the gold label stuff. He was mad because I broke those bottles. And the other one was the last of my drinking in West, was it West Hollywood? Filthy McNasties. Ah, girl, I didn't even know what happened there.
Filthy McNasties. See, I knew I loved you. Yeah. Uh-oh. Maybe we were there together. I had two friends from New Orleans come up. And we just had a good time. And we got kicked out. None of us remember what happened. So it must have been fun. But that was, you know, in April of, I'm on my way to Hawaii because my friend Michael had been shot and killed in Mardi Gras Day. I did get out of that jail.
It took a little while. I was a convicted felon because they found so much stuff in the dog food. They know exactly where to go. The owner of the show wanted to get rid of me, get rid of that little Wisconsin girl. She's trouble. So they knew exactly where to go for all of the other accoutrements, not just the baggies of my, I said, I'm bartering, I'm not selling. And they didn't care. So anyway, that's something that has been expunged from my life, from staying in touch with some drinking buddies in the French Quarter who are now sober.
The three musketeers, Rob and Denny and me are the three musketeers, and the three of us women hung together and shared men, and we shared all kinds of things. Oh, I'm done with Tommy. You can have him now. We were friendly people. I went back to the International Convention, I said that this morning, in New Orleans, and I went to find them, and one of them didn't recognize me at all, at all.
[00:35:03]
I had to tell her who I was because I was almost five years sober, and that's how much you cleaned me up. That's how much you cleaned me up. And then the other one was so drunk I had to zip her up. She was unzipped and fallen out, and she laid on my bed at the Hyatt with the big book and passed out. And then Robyn got sober five years later, and then Denny got sober six months later. And Denny used to own a bar.
She's one of the three musketeers. She owned a bar called the Blue Saloon, and she sold it. When she got sober and she went to law school and passed the bar, so the Times-Picayune did a whole article on her from the bar to the bar, and she researched my case. She found out that I could be part of a general pardon, first-time offenders, and she got me in and she sent me that paper. I must have been about 15 years sober when that happened, maybe 16, maybe more.
I can't even remember. And it was like freedom. It was a gift of Alcoholics Anonymous. I didn't ask for it. We just talked about it. She said, I'll look into it, and I just thought that was the end of it. So I passed through TSA. I passed through any of the tests necessary. I have some licenses in California for insurance and some other things, and I'm a notary, and, whoa, I work for the legal field, and, you know, it's gone.
I was expunged because they don't know they have a member of Alcoholics Anonymous sitting there with ethics and a program and honesty and unselfishness, purity, and love. Those are the four absolutes. All wrapped up in I've got to live my life today as a child of God, helping other children of God get things done. That's what Johnny Harris talks about. Child of God. My job is to help God's kids, that's what he says, God's kids get things done.
And he got that from Chuck. So everything that has been passed down by the elders, that has been passed down with experience and storytelling, and we can watch the transformation here. We watch transformation. You sit in the room long enough, and you get somebody right there within your reach, someone that's in the same all you, you know, zero to six monthers, and the ones that are hitting one year, and things start to change, and if you sit and watch, you know that if you do what they do, you'll get there too.
I don't see my own growth much of the time. I experience my own growth. I'll go, wow, that didn't even bother you today. That's kind of off my radar now, so let's keep that going every day, every day, because my life is not my life. You know, it's not about me. It's not about me. What a freedom to know that. So in April, I was on my way to Hawaii. Michael had been shot and killed in Mardi Gras Day.
There I was, going to have to go back again, maybe to Angola. My friend, the cop that we drank with, the assistant chief of police, oh, my God. He said, leave town. So after I got unhandcuffed Mardi Gras Day from a metal chair that was bolted to the floor, that I just, I was in such shock, and I was so high and so messed up, and they'd come in and try to talk to me, and they'd say terrible things about me, and I didn't care.
I wanted to run through that plate glass. Three blocks down, and I thought, where am I? And I couldn't get out of the chair because it was bolted to the ground. So I got out of town. He got me out. I got out of town, and I ran. I ran to New York. I ended up coming to California on my way to Hawaii, and I was, I had, this is what I had when I left. I had a backpack with the book Be Here Now by Baba Ram Dass.
I had always booze on me because no one's going to let me have another DT ever again. And there was always booze in there or in my boot. I always had the maize because I had to hitchhike a lot. And I had some clothing, and I wear a big red dashiki that was filthy. I had a Panama hat so you wouldn't look at me. I didn't wash my hair. I certainly remember the last time I parted it because my hands shook.
I couldn't even part my hair anymore. I was unemployable down on Lower Decatur Street in the French Quarter. As a bartender, they asked me to leave. My alcoholic friends didn't want to come have a free drink with me anymore. They said, well, you're no fun. You stood there catatonic by the wall for four hours. I got to take better care of myself and my blackouts. I used to have contact lenses.
[00:40:00]
I put them in my mouth, and then I'd pass out and swallow them, you know, clean them or something. I put them in shot glasses. The next morning, people were drinking out of the shot glasses. They're gone. You know, if I found them in a window sill, I was like, yes, I did a good job, you know. So now I have nothing. I don't have any worth. I had slid across the bar my dignity. I had slid across the bar the love of everything in my life.
No cats, no dogs, no men, no money, no job. I'm going to Hawaii because it's going to be different. And I didn't make Hawaii. I made Palm Springs. And in Palm Springs, I met some people I don't remember. With my good friend, I had met at Barney's Beanery. And West Hollywood, a few of you here. And we landed. I landed in a car, passed out, and she left me in the car with these people that weren't very nice to her, and they took me somewhere, and they had their way with me.
And they broke my jaw in three places and my nose, and I had a concussion. I had been drug around on the cement for a while. I don't remember much of any of it, which is just a joy, really, other than I told you this morning about the tooth being pulled for an implant and how I had that moment of remembering what it was like to get hit in the mouth, kicked in the body. But you know what? When I landed, they rolled me off the side of the road.
I was in a ditch. I was face down. I didn't have any clothes on. I didn't know all of this. I don't remember all of this. I do remember lifting my head because they were coming back, and we are survivors. We're survivors from King Alcohol to come in here to have our seat, to have a moment of grace that made us sit all the way down and stay. And if you're new, stay. It's such a moment of grace. Grace is everywhere all day long.
But do I have the awareness to reach up and say thank you and to take that grace and spread it around? No, I put up my big black umbrella. No grace today, it says on the top in White House paint. No grace today. And I walk around with a mug. I walk around with a sad sack face. I don't live that way anymore. You've taken my hand and pulled me out into the sunlight of the spirit. But anyway, I heard the corridor slam, and I woke up.
I came to, and I heard a voice that said, get up, I want to live. And I was ready to go because they caught these guys. It was a court case, and I had to go to court. My jaw wired shut. I'm newly sober. I don't know. I'm borrowing a car. I can't eat. Somebody gave me some clothes to wear. I'm sitting there reading pamphlets in the courtroom so I don't freak out. They got these two guys. I don't remember who's who or who's what.
I have a detective, and I had to tell him. I said, it's okay because I can't talk. And I had to sit up there, and I heard this guy that was the neighbor, and he got up and he said, yes, I heard the screaming and I heard the noise. And I was about ready to call for help. But then it abruptly stopped. And I went, I remembered. I stopped fighting for my life. I made a decision, and I stopped fighting for my life.
But, see, God's got a different plan. Your higher power or these principles, thank you for going through that. Thank you. Thank you for talking about the principles. Thank you for your energy. I can't wait. Thank you for coming with me. Thank you for letting me meet you. Thank you for the grand babies, the ex-babies, all of them here. Thank you for my new friends. Thank you for the hugs. See, God is everywhere, everywhere.
And God is good, and God does cry. So there I am, sitting there above a liquor store, cheap wine through the wires on my mouth and my face where the tooth had been kicked out, unwashed, unkempt, nothing there, concussion, broken. And the guy is staying without letting me sleep on his couch. He said, Sharon, I want you to leave. You're depressing me. It was a duck pond liquor store we were living above in west L.A.
because this girl had said, come out and get her. This girl from Barney's had said, go out and get her. She needs some help. I didn't know she was dating him. She was the girl in the bar with the big book, drunk as a skunk, calling a taxi cab. She was always nice to me. She made me earrings. She bought me drinks. We partied a little. But she was drunk as a skunk that night with a big book under her arm, that night with a big book under her arm, making her way out the door.
You know how the jukebox and everything was on the right on the wall? She's making her way out the door, falling into the taxi from those couple of steps
[00:45:01]
that we all fell out of at Barney's, going to A&A and we took our drinks and said, good for you Chris, go to A&A. And I didn't know she was dating the guy who came to get me to let me sleep on his couch until I could feel better. And I could do something with my life, I had nowhere to go and I called my mom when he asked me to leave and my mom said, seconds and inches, Sharon, we can't help you anymore, go to the Salvation Army.
And if mother would have sent a $20 bill in an envelope, you'd have another speaker, another speaker. Or if she would have told me, which I found out when my mother was 94 years old, sitting at her birthday party, listening in the other room, listening and I have the Kleenex somewhere, I don't know where it is, here it is. Sitting in the other room, she said, there was only one time in my life that my father, my husband, she said, wouldn't let me help one of the children.
I thought, that comment hit me, 94 years, this is, I'm sober, I'm in my 30s, sober, right? And I'd never heard this before and I thought, I wonder if that's me. And so the next day I talked to my mother and she said it was, she said I wanted to help you that day. I knew you were in trouble, I knew you were hurting. I put the phone on my chest and I looked at your dad and I said, she's in trouble, can we help her, and my dad said, we've tried.
Thank you, Bill's such a gentleman. Jimmy, we don't know, but Bill, we know. She said, your dad said, we've tried. And so my mother got back on the phone and took the heat because if she would have said, your dad said, I would have stood in front of the next bus. I'll show you, I'll just die now. Literally, she knew. Seconds and inches that we're here. I don't know what your seconds and inches are.
I don't know what brought you in the rooms, but we are the lucky ones. So there I am, looking at this number of this girl that I guess he was dating, not putting it together, she was a member of AA, in and out, in and out. And I called her and she said, Sharon, I can't help you, call Suzanne. And I called a stranger and I thought, oh, for sure, sure. But they could tell the Duck Pond Liquor Store because it was an alcoholic liquor store.
Everybody got drinks out the back, booze out the back. They delivered after hours. Everybody knew the Duck Pond Liquor Store. So she got that from me. She said, put down your drink and put down your joint. And I thought, what's happening? How does she know I'm working both? And she said, go sit on the steps by the side. She knew where the steps were. I thought, what is going on? So I took my backpack and my broken shoes and my broken jeans and my broken soul and my broken heart and my broken life.
And we sat on those steps and I don't know where we're going. And some strangers pulled up in a bright yellow Volkswagen and I went, oh, no. And they got out of the car and they were pretty and shiny. And I went, oh, no. But they picked me up and they put me back. And you can't get out of a Volkswagen if you're in the back. So we ended up driving and driving and driving. And at every red light, the driver, her name was Debbie, would turn around and say to me, oh, parts of her story.
And it was like, I didn't know what she was doing. I just thought, gosh, she's talking so much about herself. And then the other one would take, her name was Karen, she would take over when we're driving. And it was like, I had this newspaper clipping in my pocket of what had happened to this unemployed bartender from New Orleans named Sharon Meyer, 25 years old. Because I thought you'd ask wherever I went and you never did.
You never did say, oh, my God, where did you come from? Nobody said that to me. I don't know. We're going up at church. I thought, oh, here we go. Man is standing up here talking and it was a small room. It had tables and he had a tie and he looked around. I thought, okay, he's the minister and me and God had a one-finger peace sign and we were done. We were done a long time ago. So I thought I got to play the game.
I need a place to sleep. And what he said, perfect for me that night, I was the little girl in Iowa that looked for the mothership because I knew they left me in Iowa by mistake. And he stood at the podium and he said, I always waited for the spaceship to land and say, you can come home now, Bill. And I lifted my sorry little head and I looked around and I went, oh, spaceship people. I can do this.
And that was my hook. And I think we each one have a hook just special for somebody else. Now, this is just the belief that they're only going to hear it from you. So if you don't go to the meeting that night where you're supposed to be because you're cookie girl or something important, you know, literature, yeah, but where's the cookies, you know? And you're supposed to be there that night and that person is supposed to hear exactly what you're saying because that's the hook for her.
[00:50:03]
He was the hook for me. I went, I picked up my head and you guys were kind to me. I still didn't know where I was. And then a man puts down the book, oh, Alcoholics Anonymous, is that where I am? And I paid him back a quarter of the time. He said, I knew you'd make a year's sharing because you gave me back a quarter of the time until you paid me off. And I didn't want to owe you anything because I was going to leave.
I always leave. I'm the kind of girl that slows down at the luggage store, not at the, you know, here's the bed store, you know, and the couch store, the stuff to make your home pretty. No, luggage, OK, let's look at the luggage. I'm that kind of girl. My car was always shiny, ready to go when I had one, even in sobriety. Always ready to go, gas in, you never know. It's still that part of me. I'm still, I still like moving but my movement is spiritual today.
I move spiritually in life. I have been in the same group since August 20th, 1975. I have not left. My feet were firmly planted and I hung on to that seat because my sponsor would say, you're going to run. I can see it. Hang on to the seat and I'd hang on to that seat. And then she walked by me three days later. She said, oh, I see you're not hanging on to the seat. I guess it passed. And I go, then I think, I hate you because I guess it did.
And then she'd say, maybe I'm your new higher power. What? I know a little more than you because I didn't have one. And then I stayed at her house. I was sleeping on floors, sleeping on floors, sleeping on floors. You pick me up, drop me off, don't drink in between meetings, we'll pick you up. And daytime meeting, nighttime meetings, all kinds of meetings. And I couldn't eat and I couldn't drink. You know, I had to drink through a straw.
I had to eat through a straw. My mother sent me a blender so I could blend up broccoli with cheese all the time or mashed potatoes. And so I, that was me. And I had my big book, my backpack and my blender. And I went and slept on floors for a week at a time, a week at a time. And then my sponsor said, you can come sleep on my couch. I thought, man, get a sponsor, you got a couch. So I slept on a couch.
But she asked me to do something, which was, it was a turning point for me. Because I thought, well, I have manners. I was raised with manners. My mother probably want me to do this. I had to get on my knees and say that little prayer. Thank you for all you've given me. Thank you for all you've taken away from me. Thank you for all you've left me. And I couldn't remember it. She had to write it down for me.
So I'd wait till 3 in the morning when her whole family was asleep. Her whole family was asleep. And God is waking up Australia, not worried about Santa Monica, California. This little waif sliding out of the borrowed sleeping bag onto the floor with that little prayer with my broken jaw going, thank you for all you've given me. I'd look around, God didn't see me. So I'd slide it back under the pillow and I'd go back and I'd sleep for about three hours till the kids got up.
See, I let God enter my life because I needed to survive. And I survived in here for a while. And then that sponsor started the step work with me. You know, she said to me, well, how's your life in manageable? I couldn't, you know, I dropped some drinking episodes. And we read in the book. And yeah, I don't, once I start, I never stop. Party's over when I say it's over, when it puts me on my face. I mean, I'm not done unless I'm passed out.
And that might be two days after you. You know, I might be in another state with another person and a new name and that's okay too. You know, I just went with it. It was, alcohol is exciting and fun. And then it started taking from me and then I started giving it. And it didn't matter, I gave it all. I gave everything it needed. Everything it needed to stay in my life. And it wasn't, it wasn't my friend anymore.
It was the evil twin. She was growing up. And she wasn't nice. If you would have seen me on the street, you would have looked at me like I was a bum. But it started to change. And what happened was, she said, how's your life in manageable? And I wrote down, I would have had matching luggage coming to AA if my life was manageable. That's how deep I was, nothing. Nothing. And we, that's my brain was just really fried.
And we ended up doing a third step. God, I remember that. On our knees in the daylight with our kids home and the door open. And we said this prayer and she got up and she started hugging me.
[00:55:00]
Janet, please stop. I'm going to hit you. I don't like it. You're small. I don't have breasts, but your face is there if they would have been there. And she wouldn't stop hugging me and I thought I'm going to hit her. And then I had a thought. I was like, everybody at the Saturday night meeting will know I hit my sponsor. I don't care if it was people please. They kept me from hitting her for a moment.
And what happened was, it started to feel good. I thought, oh, what is this feeling? It was like, oh my God, I think I'm in love with my sponsor. I must be gay. And we talked about that a little bit when she couldn't understand what I was trying to say. And she said, let's don't make any major decisions in your first year. So, Janet was good for me. We did our first fourth, I did my first big fourth step with her.
We went to Venice Beach all night long. And the only reason I got it done, step five, before my first year is because Pat Y, if any of you know Pat Y, had eight days less than me. And when she walked into Alcoholics Anonymous, she was clean. She could talk. She was dressed nice. And all the old timers who were working with me went right over to Pat. And they sent the second string over to start working with me.
And I'll tell you, I was resentful. I thought, who is she? I got eight more days than her. And they would say, oh, Pat just did her fifth step. And then it would be, Pat just made amends. And they would look at me like, what's wrong with you? Anyway, that's the way I perceived it. And so, Pat would be sitting at the meeting. And we're always at the same meeting. And she would, chapter five, she'd look at me like this.
It's the quality or quantity of those eight days. That's what she said in that smile. So, when I finished my fifth step, I was ready to give her one of those, you know, one finger peace signs and like, because I did it, woman. And she had heard and she gave me the biggest smile. I went, oh, God, I want to hate her. I can't hate her now. And there was one time I was going to drink. And this is important.
This is important. I was ready to go out the door at the Palm Springs Convention. I was about, it was in June. August would have been my birthday. We went out to eat. I'm at this, I'm in Palm Springs again. I'm at the scene of the crime. I don't remember. It's still a buried memory. And we're out to eat. And there's my detective that I had sitting over there at the table. And then we drove right by the place where it happened because I remember the painting on the wall.
And it was like, and then I saw somebody in the hallway that night that I wanted to talk to. And I ran up and I hugged her. And she said, oh, don't touch me. I have a sunburn. I said, that's it. I'm going to get some vodka. I'll show all you guys. I'll just show you how much I hurt. And I'm ready to go out that back door had a liquor store. They used to have a downtown Palm Springs at the Riviera. And I saw that liquor store and I'm on my way out and I'm determined.
And there's a guy standing at the door like that, like what you read today. What you read today, Dolly. Dolly read it so well. But he was standing at the door. And he kind of pulled me back and he said, what's going on? You know, then it started. And he just listened for a while. He's one of those guys that's been sober longer than me, knew the people in the room, hung out. He said, Sharon, go get your alcohol.
Go get your vodka. Go drink it. Then you'll have less time than Pat. So get somebody that's a little behind you, a little bit on your heels and, you know, you can share. You don't have to have that kind of experience but it's good to know. Pat and I still are very good friends to this day and we're both still sober. And I'm going to let you know about sponsorship. I'm at 58 so I don't want to go too long.
I got a sponsor and she had, Janet had me go home and make amends to my dad. And there were cursory and it was three lines I had memorized. I barely could tell him. Nobody looked at each other. And he said, I just wanted you to be happy. I come home. My sponsor said, good. Then call home happy. Be happy. Go home once a year. All of that. I was two and a half years sober. I married Al, who's going to be the father of my Wesley.
And my dad came out, went to a meeting, loved all of you. My family came out for the wedding. My dad walked me down the aisle. Someone took a picture. We were eye to eye. He bought the big book. I got another sponsor at five years. I was calling to complain about my relationship. If you're a sponsor, you'd love that. Clancy used to Clancy used to say he had in his office the uh-huh machine. that every 10 seconds it would go, uh-huh, uh-huh.
[01:00:04]
And then he'd pick it up a little bit and put it back, uh-huh. And she said, it's time you made financial amends to your dad. And this is a woman named Ginny who became my sponsor at five. What? It's like checking off the box. She has it there by the phone. So, okay, I'll call my dad. Well, my dad had read. He's a reader. There's books stacked by his chair. He's a reader and he's a businessman. So, most alcoholics owe money. Hmm, page 78, that's pretty cool.
Let me go out into the office, get out her dossier and make a calculator tape, which is what he did because my brother saw it. So, I call and he gives me this total. Now, I'm not thinking, you know, he's ready. I didn't think that. I just thought, God, that's high. That's so high. She said, you have a better job calling back, make arrangements. He accepted my arrangements and she said, good. She said, don't be late with that check because Bill and Bob are watching.
That's a good one to lay on somebody. I was never late with that check. I mean, I don't care about the Pope, the Dalai Lama. I'll make amends later, but not Bill and Bob. So, I was never late with that. But she said something to me and this is the part. This is the complete amends. This is the forgiveness. This is where it goes. Put a note about your life in that check so your dad gets to know who you are.
I don't care about Sally. I don't care about Sally in Alaska with the horse in Alaska that he loved. I don't care about the son that's got the doctorate and the family name. I don't care about your sister, the Mensa, who takes them all over the world. Let him know who Sharon is. I wrote about a jail panel. That was my first note to him. I didn't even know what to say to my dad. I went to a jail panel. It was like a little tiny note.
But my dad got a note and a check. And one time I had a piece of stationery and I wrote, I don't know if I was one year in or something. And I got to the bottom of the stationery and had little turtles along the bottom. And when I hit the turtles I went, oh, my God, I haven't even thought. I didn't edit one line. I just wrote my dad a one-page letter. Things were changing. And after four years and ten months about, best I can figure, my dad called me the day after Christmas, Boxing Day, Miss Vicki.
And he said, Merry Christmas, daughter. I don't want your money anymore. Off, free and clear, free and clear. But don't stop sending me your notes. Because, see, my sponsor said to me, are you willing to grow through this with your dad? What do you mean grow through this with my dad? I didn't say that. I said yes. They get you in a little bit of a corner and they want one more thing. Good sponsors wait and they want one more thing.
Thank God. Because what it was was the forgiveness. Both ways. And when it was, I went home and we spent the whole day together and we were hanging out and going back and forth and getting parts for his, he had a construction business for his drag line or something, I don't know. And we hung out. He took me to the coffee klatch so I could go see all these coffee klatch men that no women allowed, but he took me down there.
He was proud of me. And we're going home after a lovely day together in the car. We couldn't even ride in the same car. We ended up at a root beer stand. And he said, do you want a root beer? I said, Dad, I'd love one. It's hot here. And he said, yeah. So we got our root beers and I'm walking back to the car. He said, no, let's go sit. There's a shade tray and a picnic table over there. And I remember the sky because it was starting to get a little bit low, the sun and those Iowa summer, August summer days are just starting to get a little bit longer and the fireflies are still coming out of the little wet ditches.
And I'm sitting there across from my dad having a root beer with my dad. And if he would have been getting a root beer, he would have gone, look at that dad and daughter sitting in the shade having a root beer, having a chat. Are you willing to grow through this with your dad? And if he would have looked under the table, my legs are swinging like a little six-year-old girl. See, the innocence had come back.
The compassion was there. The forgiveness was there. It was all there. And my dad was killed in 99. It was a shock. It was on his land. And he just – some equipment landed on his head and he died instantly. And my mother was shocked. They were married almost 58 years. I got off the plane and AA was in my mother's kitchen. Thank you, Iowa AA. And then Clancy is out of town. I used my sponsor because Ginny gets off a plane at 21 years with 21 days.
She had been smoking pot in Paris. So I'm driving by. I'm pissed off. My husband left me for a newcomer in the room. Nobody got custody of the meeting. I've got this baby. I'm picking up my sponsor at 21 years and she says she has 21 days
[01:05:01]
and I'm ready to run. And I'm driving by Clancy's house. I thought, oh, I don't know if he likes me or I like him, but I need somebody that's going to be louder than my head. So I stopped and I got the baby, and he said, you sat by the fireplace for 20 minutes and never said a word. You sobbed. I'm playing with your baby, waiting for you to take a breath so I can go, I try, we'll try, we'll try. So that's what we did.
We tried for 36 years until he passed away. He was louder than my head. So he was out of town when this happened, and he said – I'm slinging snot here, girls. I don't know what's going on. He said to me – I know where I am. He said to me, I'm sorry I was out of town. I called him from the rectory at the wake, you know, the closed casket. Everybody's going to do something, talk or do something or sing a song.
And I thought, my dad's accordion is sitting over there in the corner. That day I saw it and I said, I'm going to play him Amazing Grace. But it's button. I played the piano, and it's like, oh, my God, button's got eight notes to every pull or push. And I'm in the closet, and I have this girl, Kathy. I still sponsor her. I don't know how she can still love me. But I put her in a cedar closet with me, and I played Amazing Grace for three hours.
And then I said at the end of the three hours, how does it sound, Kathy? And she said, it's better. So we're there, and nobody knows who I am. It's raining up a storm. The whole town was upset about this happening, and they think I'm Nancy. Oh, God, I'm on the phone with Clancy at the mission, and I'm sobbing. And you guys know. Am I standing on a cliff? Did my boyfriend break up with me? Did I have a flat tire?
I'm sobbing, but he gets me calmed down. He says, Sharon, I'm so sorry that happened. I was sorry I wasn't here for you. And I said, I'm going to play the accordion. I don't think I can do it. It's the button. And he just said, Sharon, you're going to do a beautiful job. And it was louder than my head. And he said to me, look around that church. Your dad's going to be so proud of you. There won't even be a dry eye in the house when you're done.
But I want you to look real serious at the people sobbing. There will be few people sobbing in that room. Look at them closely, because those are the musicians. Brought me right back to reality. It's not my wake. It's not my night. Oh, my God. And I love that man. He walked me through that divorce. He wouldn't let me throw coffee on him, and that was what was going on. And I'm best friends with that girl today, because how he comes is how he goes.
And she had a child, and we raised our kids in AA together. And I told you about the Catholic school and making amends to the carnival. Guess what the Catholic school has every spring is a carnival. And guess who volunteered? I didn't know how to pay those teddy bears back to those boys. But guess what? I paid from kindergarten through eighth grade. I bought ride tickets. I bought tickets for them to go play their games.
I was the biggest fundraiser they ever had, me and my son. He got the big award in eighth grade. Biggest fundraiser ever, ever in the whole St. Augustine school in Culver City. And he called his mom up. He said, no, this isn't for me. It's for my mom. And he's fine today. He does well. He had a fake marriage. And I was let go from 30 years in the legal field. Probably, I don't know why they didn't take me to Dallas with them.
Because I think, you know, sometimes it's turning a certain age. I'm not really sure. But I signed an agreement, and I was free, and I was depressed, and I didn't know how I was going to make the money. And I didn't know I had a mortgage. Now my husband's been gone now I don't know how many years. And I don't know how to do this. And I was answering my phone. I sponsor a lot of women. I'm sponsored.
And I say yes to Ann. I show up, and I pack my bags, or do what I had to do, or get in the car and drive somewhere. But I had no money, and I had no food. I was making the mortgage, and people found out about it. It was much like my divorce when I had no money, and people were coming for Thanksgiving. And Clancy found out. I didn't know what I was going to do. People were coming. That day, I had enough for the potatoes.
And he sent the food from the mission. Somebody came to the back door and brought all the Thanksgiving food to my house so I could feed the people coming. That's what we do for each other. That's what I do for you. That's what we do. I never forget that. The kindness. Talking about Dr. Bob, the kindness kept me here. The winks. The winks are going to be okay, kid. What do I got, one minute? I'm good.
Okay. Thank you. Nobody's called me that in a while.
[01:10:00]
I just want to talk a little bit about being with my man Casey and how that happened. After Al, one year, one month, and 14 days, a big inventory looking at my wrongs when I was betrayed, and this woman who I hated. They said you can't pray for her to drink, but I prayed for her to die. After he left her, she said, Sharon, I knew I could walk through it with dignity and grace because I watched you, so it's not even my job to be able to give my example to who I want.
Your example is out there for fun and for free, and I want to be today the best example I can be of Alcoholics Anonymous. I want to be in the middle. You're right. I don't want to be picked off on the end. I want to be in the middle. I like being in the middle of the boat. Clancy talks about that invisible boat. You don't know you're in it until you're in it. You don't know why you're doing these things.
Why am I saying this prayer on my knees? I don't even believe any of it. Why am I writing a gratitude list? Why am I showing up in a meeting to be cookie girl? I'll tell you, cookie girl is powerful. When a man named Clint Hodges, I spilled coffee on him, and he got mad at me. He should have, right? But I thought, you're an old timer. Look how you treat newcomers, right? He liked Fig Newtons. You know what we were out of for about a month?
I don't know, Clint. There's none in the store. There's no Fig Newtons. I'm sorry. We laughed about that later on in life. But it's powerful, cookie girl. Okay, go. So I love those commitments. But, you know, whatever I can do for Alcoholics Anonymous today, for life today, for my neighbor today, for the smile on the street today, for somebody in traffic today, by telling somebody that's a nice color on them, by smiling at somebody at the store, by giving a guy that's got a new dog named Allie, that's like, oh, no, you're, oh, please don't.
His name's Dakota. I see him at my corner. I said, please don't name your dog Allie. He said, Allie, like Allie Red Twist. And I thought, oh, he meant Ollie. Okay, good, Ollie. So I gave him dog food and whatever. I look for him. I look for him. I'm not in a big, I don't have a big job. I work for an older lawyer. That's why I wear this, too. Yeah, I've been vaccinated. Yeah, we all are. But I don't want to bring something home to the law firm and have this suite in a mansion over up on Harvard Street where I work and I go into work and they're happy to see me.
They want me there. And he says to me, I'm smart enough to hire you, Sharon. And the place I was at, they were pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing and giving me more. And I thought, I'll show you, I'll show you. And my blood pressure was up. And then when they let me go, it was like, wow. And people knew I didn't have much. And they'd pick me up from a meeting and they'd take me out to eat and they'd buy me a lot of food.
Like, I don't want to eat all that because they knew I had leftovers. And that was 2018. I had to recreate myself again, you know, and I had to pray. And I was looking at my balcony going, hmm, I'd probably just break my neck and end in the hospital and you all would come and whine about your boyfriends and I won't be able to move, I'll blink a little. So I'm not going to do that. Third floor is just not going to do it.
So I go back to bed, the phone would ring. I talk to you, yes, okay, I talk to all my babies. I talk to people calling. I go back to bed and every single one, I'd show up, get ready. They'd pick me up from the meeting and that's the way it was in 2018. And Alcoholics Anonymous works. God and I had another inventory. God and I had another. I got another chance at life. My husband had been gone now 10 years.
I told you I met this beautiful man who's going to be 30 years sober and never thought I'd love again after being a widow for 10 years. That was some going to the doctor going, what do I do? 10 years. Take that off the tape. We got ready, girls, that's all I can tell you. But we met and we knew each other 10 months before we ever saw each other's eyes in person. And I have a new lease on life. It doesn't have to stop.
I am more alive and in love with life today than I remember from yesterday, and that's the way it should always be, whether my cats are in hospice or my mother's in hospice or my sponsor's gone or any of that, you know, any of that. I'm with babies who are in hospice and we all got to go. We all got to go. But you know what? I'm going to end on this. I really like Blake. He's kind of wild and fun. He's a mystic from back when.
And he's English, and he was on the Ganges, and he was waiting for inspiration. Ganges and he was waiting for inspiration and he was out of it so he's sitting on the Ganges and he's sitting there and it's dusk and all these looks like boats on fire going down, boats on fire, boats on fire going down the Ganges and he's going what's the fire
[01:15:01]
and so he waited for a local to come by and the local said yeah it's our dead, we have tines that we get to put them all, we wrap them in linen and we give them everything they want, I want an eagle feather, I want a feather of the raven, I want my big book, I want pictures of all the animals I've loved, I want pictures of all the people I've loved, I want my little stuffed pig I still have from when I was a little girl, I want some pretty clothes and shoes and I want that old dashiki I still have, I want you to put that all in with me, I want you to put all the names written on my heart and I want you to light me on fire, wrap me in linen, push me down too because what he got, the inspiration he got when he saw all these boats on fire just going by, all those lives over, he thought wow, when you put me in the boat, all the things I love, wrap me in linen and light me on fire and push me down the Ganges, may I be all used up, thank you for having me.
Applause