Do What Your Sponsor Says Without Debate — Especially When You Are Positive He Is Wrong – Vince Y.

Hi, my name is Vince, and I'm an alcoholic. Hi, Vince. And I'm glad to be here tonight. It's an honor and a privilege to talk anywhere in AA, especially here. I want to thank Clancy for asking me to talk. This is the biggest deal I know of, Pacific Group. And I'm glad to get the opportunity to be a part of it and to share. And it's been a good day for me. It's been a good week. It's been a good month. It's just been great. If you're new, you will probably find that nauseating. And I understand that. And if you're new, I understand a lot of what you're thinking and feeling. I may be the only one here that does. I'll tell you. Because if you're new, I know your pain. And I know how you feel. And the rest of these jerks, they don't understand. But you and I are special. Because you feel the way that I do. And I know that you're not like any of them. And I'm not like them either. It's just... But I'll tell you what. I discovered something a long time ago. I decided to act like them. And I acted like them for a long time. And now a funny thing happened. They think I'm one of them. And if you're new, that will happen to you. Because that seems to be the secret here. You just act like the rest of them. And pretty soon, you really start to feel like them. And you get better. It was interesting. At the beginning of the meeting, I certainly enjoyed Jim and Esther. I remember Esther when she was new. And I remember Esther. And really, I'm struck. It seems to me sometimes that it's almost like I have lived two different lives. It was the life prior to 16 years ago. And then what's happened since. It's almost like two different existences. And looking at Esther and listening to her this evening, that struck home with me again. I was so reminded of that kind of a feeling. Because Esther walked up here. Esther is an architect. And she's a professional woman. And she has bearing and style and class. And she is articulate and lovely. And all of the things that a sober woman ought to be. And I remember Esther in 1976. I remember Esther the day that she was physically escorted out of the yard. Esther had wild hair. You know, went out like that. And she had her eyes. Esther's eyes. Esther perpetually looked like she had just witnessed an axe murder. That's the way Esther looked. And she was violent and hostile. And she had called Clancy some unkind names that day in the office. A string of expletives that are just, you could not possibly repeat. And he picked her up and brought her to the curb outside 1212 Lake Street. And he sat her down. And Esther, and you know what about Esther? I'll tell you about Esther. Esther was present at the Saturday night. We had a Saturday night meeting that night. And the reason that Esther was present is because Esther was desperate. Esther had nowhere else to go. And I identify with Esther. I know how Esther felt. As a matter of fact, even as late as 1976 when they carried Esther out of the yard, I was secretly on Esther's side. I really was. I really was. I wanted to go outside with Esther. And shake my fist at that son-of-a-bitch, too. You know. That's the way I was feeling in 1976. Seventy-six was not a good year for me. It really wasn't. It was a poor year. I had gone through a rather brief but troublesome marriage that I had gone through the entire marriage in 1976. You know. As a matter of fact, we met, became engaged, and married, and divorced before November. You know. And I remember that. I remember that. I remember that. I remember that. So it was really a quick year in many… And Esther typified what I wanted to say. Of course, now, at that time, I was sober probably about four years, so I wasn't quite as crazy as Esther, so I didn't say the things that Esther said. I mean, after all, I had developed some self-preservation by then. Esther had none. She had no regard for her life, so she was able to say those unkind things. But I secretly said it. I secretly cheered her on, and I remember all of that, and I remember her going to the meeting that night. The meeting was over in St. John's Hospital. It was up on the, I don't know, the 17th floor or something, and you had a ride up there. All 300 of us went up in the elevator, had our meeting, had the birthday parties, and then we all 300 came down the elevator, and, you know, some of them stopped off in intensive care to visit on the way down. And eventually we got thrown out of there, but this was before we got thrown out of there. And Esther, I remember that night, she really had class. She refused. There was only two elevators, and Esther refused to ride down on the same elevator as Clancy. And I thought that was style. I really did. But Esther stayed here, and Esther turned into what you saw earlier, and I think that absolutely can't happen, can it? I mean, if you could have seen Esther in 1976 and look at the, the lady who walked up here earlier in this meeting, and that can't possibly happen. And if you're new, you don't know about that yet. But you will, if you stay here. You'll know all about that. And you'll discover the promise of Alcoholics Anonymous. The hope. The promise of, this is the holiday season, and many of us like to talk about the promise of Christmas. And so many of us, I guess, have had so many bad and tragic Christmases. Bad holiday seasons. And bad memories. And one of the things you come here for, I guess, is to, is to maybe realize the promise of Christmas. So you don't have to have bad Christmases and bad holidays. And I can tell you the truth. The absolute truth. It will happen to you here. You'll discover that here. That's the gift here. All of those good things are yours. It's more than just a place where you sit and you don't drink. It's much more than that. It's a place where your very life changes. Where you live a new life. Where after 16 years you look back and you think, my God, was that me? Did I live that life? Did that really happen to me? It couldn't have been because look how it is today. And that's the way that I think every day. I get those notions and those feelings because it's true. It almost could not have happened. I've had some new people ask me about, we did a, we had an anniversary celebration, I think most of you were at, earlier in November. It was to celebrate our group's anniversary. And Clancy's 30th birthday. And it was a marvelous, marvelous day, wasn't it? I mean, it was a magnificent day. And new people have asked me since that day, we did a show and we depicted many of the things that happened. We told stories about the Pacific group and about the people in it and the things that happened to them and the things that they did. And people have approached me and said that most of that cannot be true, can it? Because it is so preposterous and unlikely, isn't it? Some of those stories. I mean, but yet, every one of them were true. They all actually happened. And not only did they happen, but the people survived. All of them survived, just about. And their lives flourish today. And so if you're new and you saw that show and you were present at that party, it was all true. It all happened. And as preposterous as some of it may have been, a woman stealing cookies, buying cookies in an AA meeting. And the police actually bringing her to the meeting after she shoplifted something so she could deliver the cookies. I mean, that's ridiculous, isn't it? I mean, it's preposterous. But it happened right here in the Pacific. It's really a true story. At any rate, I'm glad I'm here. And I'm glad that our Christmas season this year will be another good one, or so it looks like. And I'm glad that my life is such that I can say that. I was reminded of what it used to be like at 6 o'clock this morning when the phone rang. And I got a call from central office. For a 12-step call, which was a real 12-step call. They were not asking me to verify somebody's insurance or take a carton of cigarettes to a treatment center. It was a real 12-step call. The guy was calling for help. He was, you know, he was not asking for detox or transportation to the care unit. He wanted to talk to an alcoholic because he had a problem. And I called him up. And his name was Kevin. And Kevin was a stockbroker in South Pasadena. And he hadn't had a drink. He hadn't had a drink for six days. And he said that his problem was his family was going to leave him. If he didn't find a way to quit drinking, if he didn't find a way to change his life by his family, he was going to leave him, he was going to lose his job. And I said, well, I understand that, Kevin, but about your drinking problem. He said, yeah, well, that's one thing. But the real problem is I'm going to lose my job. And my family is going to leave. And I understood Kevin. I understand Kevin. Because that's the way. That's the way that I felt, coming to Alcoholics Anonymous. Yes, I have a drinking problem. That's true. And I suppose, but that's not my real problem. My real problem are Kevin's problems, living problems, the job and the family and all the things that I seem to screw up. Those are my problems. And, yes, I will be willing to consider not drinking if it will help these problems. I'm not really willing to quit. I'm willing to consider quitting if it really is necessary. But down deep, I don't think it's really going to be necessary to quit drinking. I might have to quit drinking for a while and get the heat off. And I think six days, like Kevin quit drinking for six days, and I think that's really quite an accomplishment. And I said, Kevin, would you like to go to an AA meeting? He said, well, I suppose so. He said, as a matter of fact, I'm willing to do anything. I'll do anything at all. Because I really need some help. I said, well, good, Kevin. I'll tell you what. I'm going to an AA meeting in West Los Angeles tonight. He said, all the way to West L.A., huh? I said, yeah, well, that's the way that it is, Kevin. I said, where do you live? And I'll pick you up. And he gave me his address. And by the time Pat and I got over there tonight, up in the hills of South Pasadena, and we got lost and we turned the wrong way and I cussed and swore and said unkind things about Kevin, we couldn't find him. We couldn't find Kevin's house. So we had to drive down to the bottom of the hill and we called Kevin up. And Kevin had a better day than he thought he was going to have, I guess, because Kevin did not find it necessary to come to West Los Angeles tonight. He thought he'd call some people in Pasadena and see what he could do over there. And I don't blame him. And I understand Kevin. I have an idea. We'll see Kevin one day. I just suspect that we will. But I understand him. And I'm glad that I got that call because that is a 12-step call. That's a real one. A real, legitimate 12-step call. And I'm glad I had the opportunity to be a part of it. And I'm more happy than anything tonight that I am a part of the Pacific Group. And if you're new here tonight, I want to take just a few minutes and tell you a little bit about my involvement in this group and how I got here and what it's done for me because it is everything to me. I did not expect to be here on September the 20th, 1972. It was not a likely proposition. It was much like the stories we told in the show. It didn't. It didn't seem very likely that I would end up in a place like this with the stability and consistency in my life that exists today. I ended up September the 20th, 1972, all out of answers in Costa Mesa, California, with nothing left, no job, no car, no money, and no place to live. And I'd known all about AA. I had been to Alcoholics Anonymous. As a matter of fact, I had been sober at one point for some three years in AA. And my life was miserable and it was terrible. And I had nothing. I had nothing going for me at all. I had lost a medical license. I was a member of a new and budding profession in the medical profession as a result of some unique medical training I had received in the service. And as a result of my prior sobriety, why, I'd gotten on my feet and I'd gotten this medical license and I went to work in an emergency room and I stole the dope, is what I did, and became addicted to Demerol and got arrested and lost that license. And a lot of bad things happened to me. And I ended up, in early September of 1972, drinking a half gallon of vodka a day in a dreary, disgusting apartment by the airport in Englewood. And I ended up getting to Orange County and I got a terrible job for a mortician in Orange. It was just awful. And I ended up, on September the 20th, 1972, having enough, ready to cash it in, ready to say, Jesus, I just can't handle it anymore. And I... And every time I did that, I was like, I'm going to die. And every time I did that, I was like, I'm going to die. And every time I get like that, I go to AA. Even though AA doesn't work, it's the only place there is to go. And isn't that awful? I mean, isn't that awful? When you know that it doesn't work and you know that it's terrible and that nobody there understands and that you're not really like them, and yet it is simply the only place to go. And that's where I went. And I got sober in Costa Mesa. I stayed sober for two years and I lived down there. And not much happened to me during that period of time. It was an awful period in my life. I was not a very successful newcomer. Newcomer in AA. I was unemployable. I had lost this. I was educated to do this one specific thing. I have a very good education, but a very narrow education. It is a very scientific education that just enabled me to do this, probably this one thing that I could do. And I was disgraced in that profession. And my license had been revoked. And I did not deserve to be around sick people. And I was willing to concede that. I would not present an argument to that. And I spent two years in Orange County, unemployable and floundering, but sober in AA meeting. And I suppose I had some kind of a spiritual experience. I learned how to pray. I learned how to ask God for help during that period of time. So I suppose that's why I was able to stay sober for two years. But two years had gone on by and I had nothing going for me at all. I had no sense of purpose. I had nothing. Nothing was going to happen to me. And people who are... Relatively new, even here tonight, and you know that something... Do you feel on the threshold of something, that something good is going to happen to your life? That you're here and that something good is going to happen. You're involved with the steps in AA and you have a sponsor and you may be in the middle of the Pacific group. I had none of those feelings or illusions. Nothing was going to happen to me. And so I took a terrible, drastic step that was just unbelievable. I decided to ask Clancy to be my sponsor. I asked... I asked him for help. And in those days in Orange County, the Pacific group was looked upon as a court of last resort. It really was. It was a place where people went who were absolutely... You only went to the Pacific group if there were absolutely no other alternatives. You know what I mean? It was not a place where someone said... Like it is today. Today people come to the Pacific group because it's a very active, up, enthusiastic group of sober AA. And it's a great place to be, especially if you're... It was then too, but people didn't look at it as such in 1972. In Orange County in 1972, the Pacific group was looked upon as something like Buchenwald or Auschwitz. It was somewhere where you were sentenced to because you couldn't make it anywhere else in AA. And you had to subject yourself to a terrible... You gave up your freedom when you went to the Pacific group, didn't you? I mean, you really did. And if you asked Clancy to be your sponsor, that was like turning yourself into Eichmann. You know? It really was. It was just absolutely unheard of down there by the circles I traveled in. But I'll tell you what. I was desperate and I had to do it anyway. And I had nothing going for me in 1974. And I was two years sober. And I spent my first holiday season as a member of the Pacific group and a resident of the Midnight Mission. Now, I didn't... I didn't know all that was going to happen to me when I called Clancy and asked him for help. I had... You know, my track record for two years was despicable. I had lost a job as a gas station attendant for being incompetent. I had lost a job as a drill press operator in a factory for being incompetent. A $1.87 an hour drill press operator, which is a very difficult job to lose. It's really hard to be a bad drill press operator. You have to... I'll tell you what a drill press operator does. And a drill press operator sits on a stool. And they wheel a cart on. And a cart has copper plates in it. And they're all embossed in the middle. And you take a copper plate and you put it under this drill. And you pull a handle. And the drill puts a hole in the copper plate. And then you put the copper plate over in this bucket. That's it. That's the job. I managed to do that wrong. I put the wrong hole in about... About 800 of these copper plates one day. And the foreman in that machine shop came up and told me... And I'll never forget what he said to me because it was just... It was so profound. I mean, it was just... It was the most bitterest pill I've ever swallowed. It was a bitter drink because he said to me... He didn't say... You know what I would like for him to have said? I would like for him to have said, You know what? You're a wiseass. You're just a wiseass. And you're laughing up your sleeve at us. And you're just trying to skate here until you can get a better idea. And you're slacking off on the work you're doing, so I'm going to fire you. But he didn't say that. You know what he said? He said, I feel very badly that I have to let you go. Because I can see that you're a trier. That's right. That's what he said. He said, you are simply not quite bright enough to do this kind of work. That's what he said. And I explained to him. He said, you don't understand. I am a graduate of Cornell University. He happened to be from Texas. And he said to me, well, I'll tell you what, boy. You ought to go back and take the course in drill press operations. That's what you ought to do. That's the way that it was for me in Orange County. And bad things had happened to me. And I had... The best I could say materially is I acquired an automobile. A red... A 1964 Chevrolet. With a hole in the top and no brakes. And when I arrived in the Pacific Group, this was my dowry. You know? I arrived at the midnight mission in November of 1974, driving a red 1964 red Chevrolet with a hole in the top and no brakes for a consultation with Clancy. And I went in and had a meeting with him. And he said something to me, and I must say it. I remember it. I can quote it word for word because it's the most significant thing that anyone has ever said to me at AA. And if you're new, I hope that you hear this from somebody. And I hope you're willing to ask somebody to say it to you. And then I hope when you hear it, you're willing to accept it. Because to me, it is probably the essence of Alcoholics Anonymous. I asked him for help, and he said, I will help you on one condition. And that condition is that you are willing... to accept my judgment about your life. And that you will do what I ask you to do without debate. And if you will do that, I will help you and your life will get better. And one day, you will function like an adult. And I am most grateful that I was desperate enough to make that pact with the devil that day. Because that's what it was like. And I agreed to do that. Now, I did not... You know, those are words. And when you're desperate, it's easy to say, yes, I'll do what you say. But then he starts to tell you what you have to do. And the first thing he told me was, he said, he looked at that car out there. And he said, do you have insurance on that car? And the fact was, I hadn't had a driver's license in three years. Why in the hell would I have insurance? I mean, that's ridiculous, isn't it? And I said, No, I don't. He said, do you have a driver's license? I said, no. He said, well, you'll have to give me the keys to your car. And I said, that's ridiculous. He said, is it really? He said, do you have a better idea? Why don't you just give me the keys? So I did. And he said, I'll tell you what we'll do. We're going to take that car. You're going to join our group. And I want you to live here in the Midnight Mission. And just live here. And I'm going to tell you what I want you to do. I have assignments for you. Every day, I'm going to give you something to do. But in the meantime, we're going to take this car. And we're going to park it in front of my house in Venice. And pretty soon, you're going to get a job. And you're going to make some money. You're going to be able to get a driver's license. You'll get insurance on the car. Then you'll have a car. I said, okay. So he called Ed Mutum, a guy that used to be in this group. Ed is seven foot tall. And most of you know him. And Ed came down and drove my car away. And I'll never forget. It was the most grotesque sight I have ever seen. It was the most grotesque sight I've ever seen in my life. Ed Mutum, his head was sticking through the hole in the top of his car. And he was yelling it had no brakes as he was pulling away from the curb. And he drove that car up to Venice. And the theory was, I would come and visit my car every Saturday morning when we went to the yard. I would get to see my car. At least I would know it was still there. That sounded good, but it turned out badly. Because, first of all, my recovery took longer than we all expected it would. And it turns out my car had to sit in front of 1212 Lake for a very long period of time. And I don't know if you've ever abandoned a car in Venice. But bad things happen to a car parked in Venice very late at the time. So each Saturday I would arrive in Venice and I would look at my car. One Saturday, I remember, there was a, the whole top was gone off the top of the car. You know, it was a convertible. The hole, it had a hole in it. And it wasn't a very big hole. But one day, the whole top was gone. And the next week, one of the wheels was gone. And the car just kind of sat with no top, tilted, on three wheels. And not long after that, I got up there and the whole steering column was gone one Saturday morning. And the whole steering column, it was like it was gutted, you know. And then one day, the ultimate insult. I arrived up there one Saturday morning and there was nothing left but an oil spot. And that kind of typified my life. Said much about my program. That car was suffering the same as my AA program, or so it seemed. But I'm here to tell you, I lived in the midnight mission on Skid Row. What he told me to do when I moved into that mission, he said, I want you to live here. And he says, you're going to take up residence here. You're just going to live here. This is your home. This mission on Skid Row. And every morning, what I want you to do is to come down to my office. And I want you to put on that three-piece suit you have. And I want you to report to me. And I'm going to give you an allowance. And here's what I want you to do. I want you to take this $8 a day I'm going to give you. And I want you to go outside and get on the 83 bus that runs up Wilshire Boulevard. And I want you to get a series of transfers. Every once in a while, when you pass a hospital or you get to a medical practice that is a big medical practice, get off the bus, go inside and see the administrators. And explain to them that you're sober for two years and Alcoholics Anonymous. That you don't use drugs anymore. And you need help getting your medical license back. And you need a job. And at the end of the day, after you make a series of these stops, you'll end up in West Los Angeles. Then you can get a bite of dinner. And you can go to one of our Pacific group meetings. And then you can ride the bus back down to the mission. And so I said, that's the most ridiculous. I mean, that is really. Think about that. Think about that. Not much hope in that, is there? I mean, Jesus. But I'll tell you what, I didn't have a better idea. So every morning I'd get up and I'd go down to this guy's office and I'd get this eight bucks. And I'd get on the 83 bus and I'd ride up Wilshire Boulevard. And I lived in the midnight mission for eight months. And I did the same thing. I wrote day after day after day. I wrote the 83 bus up Wilshire Boulevard. And I did what he said. I got transfers. I got offers. I suppose that I have visited every major medical facility between downtown Los Angeles and the west end of the San Fernando Valley several times in that eight month period of time. I've been into Good Samaritan Hospital. I've been into Cedars-Sinai, St. John's, Santa Monica Hospital, St. Joseph's in Burbank. Don't ask me how the hell I got over there, but I did. St. Vincent's. I've been into places like the Elmer Belt Urology. I've been to the Elmer Belt Urology Clinic. I mean, that's going to any lengths. That's what I did. And uniformly, I had the same kind of conversation with the people in these places. And they were all very, they were very, first of all, they were very nice to me. They wished me well. And then they explained to me that there was no possible way that they could help me. That there was no way they could get my medical license back. How could that happen? And certainly if they could, there was no way that they could hire me to work in their emergency room. I mean, that's tough on the malpractice insurance, you know. And there was no way that they could do that, but yet I did it. And I did that because this man told me to do that, and I did not have a better idea. And so I did it anyway. And I did it for eight months. And it was the same result. It was a dreadful, and I would go in and tell him this. I would say, you know, nothing's happening here. This is not working. And he would tell me to do it anyway. He would ask me if I had a better idea. And I never did. And one day in May of 1975, I went outside to get on that bus one more day. And it was just a Friday morning in May, and the sun was out. In May of 1975. And you know, when you live, I'll tell you something. I was thinking about it the other day. When you live on Skid Row in a mission, and it's a sunny day, it's a cause for depression. Really. You would rather it rained. Really. Because when you walk out of the mission on a sunny morning in May, and you know that people around you feel good, or maybe not around you, but there are people somewhere in the city who feel good, who are functioning, who go to work, have homes and families, and it's a sunny day, and they might even go to the beach later on. And that's not going to happen for you when you live in the mission on Skid Row. It's just not kind of in your lifestyle. You know what I mean? It just isn't in the plan. And it was just a bad day. And I got on that 83 bus that ran up Wilshire Boulevard one more time. And the first thing I did was I sat down in chewing gum. And I got it all over the back of my suit. And I got off the bus at Western, and I went into the service station, and I tried to clean the chewing gum off the back of my suit. And I don't know if you... I had wet paper towels. Have you ever tried to clean chewing gum off a wool suit with wet paper towels? There was a... I'll tell you the scene in the John. Of the 76th. Of the 76th station on Western. I found myself standing by the sink with my pants in this hand. And I had on this three-piece suit, which meant I had on black socks, black shoes, my shorts, a white shirt, and a tie, and a vest, and a coat, and my pants in this hand, and wet paper towels in this hand. And I'm trying to clean the chewing gum off the back of these pants. And you know what happens when you try to clean chewing gum off a wool suit with wet paper towels? It spreads. It goes all down the legs. And it just gets to be a terrible mess. And you find yourself, and you say to yourself, you are an Ivy League school graduate with your pants off in the restroom of a gas station, and you can't even... You don't even have it together enough to clean chewing gum off your goddamn pants. I mean, you are... I don't know how you could be a more grotesque loser than that. And that's the way that I felt, and that's the way that I was. And I remember I put my pants back on. And I got back on the bus, and I rode to the end of the line, and I thought that I had about maybe eight or ten bucks in my pocket, and I thought that perhaps I could stay sober this day if only I could get something to eat and maybe go to a movie. Because it was the very best I had going for me that day. There was nothing else that was going to happen to me. And I rode to the end of the line, and I went to this mall in Santa Monica to get something to eat. It was a cafeteria. And I walked through the cafeteria with a tray. And I got something to eat, and I set the tray down, and went outside to get a newspaper. And when I was getting the newspaper, the busboy came by and took my lunch. He bust my lunch right off the table. And it was just awful. And I walked from that cafeteria over to Westwood Village, where I would go to the movie. And I walked through the village, and I walked out by the campus to the Bruin Theater. And I got in line to buy a ticket to the show. And when I was standing in that line, somebody called my name. And I turned around, and it was the administrator of the medical center in which I had been arrested in for stealing narcotics several years before. And he said, my God, where in the hell have you been? He said, we thought you were dead or in an institution. And I said, no, I'm sober for two years in AA. And I don't drink, and I don't use drugs. And he looked at me, and he had this amazing expression came over his face. He said, my God, you look terrific. He said, I'm so happy for you. He started to cry. He put his arms around me. He was so glad to see me. And he said, have you worked? And I said, I haven't worked anywhere in a long time. And he said, God, it's great to see you. He said, Jesus, good things are going to happen to you. He said, we have a urologist who's just joined our group practice. And he happens to be a member of the Medical Quality Assurance Board. I want you to come down to the clinic tomorrow and meet him and have lunch. And maybe he can write some letters and get your medical license back. And if he can, why, how would you like to go back to work in that very same emergency room? And I went down, and I met that urologist the next day. And we had lunch, and he wrote some letters. And I got my medical license back in 60 days. And I went back to work in that same emergency room. The one I stole, they were all in. And I was trusted and respected. And I worked there for two and a half years. Why did that happen to me? It happened to me because I didn't have a better option. Because I didn't have a better idea. It happened to me because I was desperate enough to listen to some guy in a mission and to do what he said because I didn't have a better idea. And if you are new to the Pacific Group tonight, that's the secret of the Pacific Group. That's the secret. That's all there is you have to know. And my wish for you, if you're new, is I hope you're that desperate. Be desperate enough to listen to that sponsor and they tell you to do something that you know you are positive is contrary to your best interest. As a matter of fact, if you know that to be true, hurry up and go do what he said. Because that's a sure bet that he's telling you to do the right thing. Because if there's one thing I know about you, if you're new, is that you have absolutely no judgment. Certainly no judgment about what is good for you. And that was how I began here. Since then, I have lived here. And I have been part of your family. And I've grown up here. And amazing things have happened to my life. Incredible things. I mean, you can't get from where I was in September of 1972 to where I am today. And it's not just materially. And I have that. I am successful. Which is really an amazing kind of a thing. But I am. I'm very successful. In a material sense. But I am successful in something far greater than that. I am successful as a human being. And it was something I never thought I was ever capable of. I am successful of sustaining a flourishing relationship in a marriage over a sustained period of time. I would like to tell you tonight that I love my wife. Not only do I love my wife, but I like her. And that relationship has sustained. And then the same way. For nine years. Now that's incredible. I don't do anything for nine years. Let alone have a sustained successful relationship with another human being. I'll tell you what. I certainly don't stay married for nine years. That is not my history. But yet I have been able to do that. As the result of all of the things that were talked about in that silly show we did in November. No great philosophical imperatives. There was a song that Charlie and Lindsey wrote for that show. It was to the tune of some of my favorite things. And it was called The Things That We Do Here. And maybe some of you remember the song. The lyrics of the song. But they're really quite silly. You know they talk about not growing a mustache. And going to the yard. Being a part of. And fulfilling your commitments. And I want you to know if you're new. That's all I did here. Was simply that. Just what was asked of me. Over a sustained period of time. And a funny thing happened. The promise of life got fulfilled. And the promise of Christmas got fulfilled. And my Christmases have been white. And my life has been great. And if you're new. That's all that you have to do here. Is simply the things that we do. And I hope if you're new. I hope you're desperate enough to do them. Thanks for having me tonight.