Randall B., speaking in Atlanta after traveling from Athens, Georgia, opens reluctantly — he loves going to speaker meetings but hates speaking. He traces his origin to a small South Georgia town, Southern Baptist parents he describes as loving but quiet and probably depressed, and the self-appointed role of the golden boy who had to be the best at everything or quit. The first glass of red wine in junior high landed him: relaxed, grown-up, right. By college at UNC Chapel Hill he discovered pot and speed, drank alone at movies, and finally gave up chemistry for religion and psychology because anything he couldn't dominate he dropped. When the 1970 draft lottery handed him a high number, he ditched a Harvard Divinity acceptance and fled to Athens to party and play music.
That party ran until he was 35. He nearly died in his 20s from reds and liquor in an Atlanta hotel. He collected three DUIs, including one doing a U-turn in front of Allen's Hamburgers and another hauling from Savannah thirty days later. He started a not-drinking diary that ended with one entry — 'had a couple beers last night, seems okay' — and silence. He ran to New Orleans for 24/7 bars and a fresh start, met the woman he's now been married to 27 years, and her two-year-old son Isaac. On an interstate in DTs, paranoid and carrying guns, he recited the Lord's Prayer and the 23rd Psalm and heard a calm voice: you have to stop, not cut back. Pink cloud lasted two days.
His wife's therapist helped her draw the line: get sober or leave. A counselor in New Orleans told him 'I'm a recovering alcoholic' — words Randall had never heard paired — and sent him to a Tulane AA meeting. He did 90 in 90, watered plants in New Orleans oil buildings for three years, and let his music career go because booze and coke had been welded to it. A security guard at a Florida marina pool said 'I know how to pray' at exactly the moment he was about to drink over a bad gig. A stranger on the Amtrak through Birmingham stopped him from going to the club car. He finally got a sponsor — a wild French Quarter character whose father had committed suicide — and worked a fourth step that unearthed rage at his own father. The sponsor put the kitchen knives away, walked him around the block, and taught him the lesson he calls the biggest of his sobriety: walk through the feeling, with a witness, without acting out.
He went to social work school at UGA, then got the call from an English rock star's people and toured the world as the sober sideman for 16 years — the only one kept on. Today he writes and records his own songs, still makes meetings, and names his current edge honestly: when his wife criticizes him he drops back into adolescent defiance, silent punishment, 'to hell with y'all.' AA is teaching him to stand up into an adult mind, listen, take it in, decide if it's true, talk to someone — instead of going to his room.
We hope no one will consider these self-revealing accounts and bad taste. Our hope is that many, I'm calling men and women, desperately in need, especially in this room tonight. We believe that it's only by fully disclosing ourselves and...
We hope no one will consider these self-revealing accounts and bad taste. Our hope is that many, I'm calling men and women, desperately in need, especially in this room tonight. We believe that it's only by fully disclosing ourselves and our problems that we will be persuaded to say, yes, I'm one of them, too, I must have this thing. And tonight I'm going to introduce the introducer. Tinsley Ellis is going to come up and introduce our speaker. Before I introduce the speaker, I just want to say, Tim, it's great to see you here tonight. Our thoughts and our prayers and the great amount of courage it took for you to come here after your recent unpleasantness. Now, when the speaker was announced on a flyer a couple of weeks ago, a lot of people were really excited, and somebody wrote, wow, on the original flyer that went up because his sobriety date was listed as 1883. Which would redefine old-timer, as far as I'm concerned. But this is a gentleman who shares his experience, strength, and hope a lot. Inside and outside the rooms, and he came all the way from Athens, Georgia, to speak tonight. With that, I give you a round of applause. Thank you, Tinsley and Tim. Thanks. Glad you're, where are you? Anyway, I'm glad you're out. Everything's good. There you are. I love to go to speakers' meetings, and I hate to speak, you know. My first impulse when Tinsley asked me is like, uh-uh-uh, I gotta be, I'm busy doing something. And then my AA mind clicks in, and I say, okay, I'll be there. That's kind of the story of my recovery. A lot of times I gotta go against my impulses, you know, my adolescence. I want to run and hide kind of thing, and just stop for a second and say, wait a minute. What does AA tell me to do here? Be of service. It's probably going to do me a lot more good than it does y'all for me to tell the story. So, here I am, reluctant, but I'm here. And that's kind of the, that's another metaphor for my sobriety. Sometimes I'm reluctant to do the things I'm supposed to do. But I usually do them. And that's been, it's worked for me so far, since 1883. I didn't realize how much sobriety I had. But one other thing that I have to say for myself is my sponsor down in New Orleans, I got sober in New Orleans, and somebody asked me to speak and tell my story. And I was all freaked out, you know. And he reminded me, or told me that, it's not a performance. Because he knew I was kind of a performer, or had been. I wasn't doing any performing when I got sober. But he said, you know, when you tell your story, it's not a performance. And that really scared me. Because I knew kind of how to perform, but I didn't know how to get up and tell the truth to people, and kind of let people in to my life and to who I was. In fact, a couple of times. I didn't even know who I was the first time I told my story. I'm just learning, really. But it's important for me to say that so I don't try to make it into something that's not, you know. It's just me telling them how it was and what happened and how it is now. And just keep it simple. So that's what I'm going to try to do. Let me just start from the beginning. I came from a little town in South Georgia. My parents were just great, loving people, quiet, Southern Baptist types. They didn't drink. They were just good folks, you know, quiet. We didn't talk about emotions or, you know. But I think it was kind of normal back then, too, in those days. Didn't do a lot of talking about stuff. You know, I have a sister six years older, so I was kind of an only child in a way. My sister was gone, you know, when I was a junior. I guess off to college. And, you know, I was involved with the church and all that. And I learned later, as I got sober and started looking at myself, that I kind of took on this role in my family of the golden boy kind of role where I was going to be. I think because I thought my parents, and they probably were, depressed. You know, I thought it was just kind of quiet. But I think both of them were kind of depressed. So it was up to me to kind of keep this boat sailing. I think it's the way. I picked it up. Nobody told me this. I just took on this role. And this, it meant that I had to be really good at anything I did or I was going to quit and do something else, you know. So, you know, I studied real hard and I made good grades and became, you know, good at music and stuff like that. And got a lot of praise for it. But I never felt very good about myself. Even though I was getting these, you know. You know, accolades, in a way. And I never felt like I really fit in or I was good enough. I never felt I was good enough. And I think my parents had that, too. And I picked it up from them. It's not a blame thing. I'm just saying that I never felt like I fit in. Even though I was achieving. You know, I was a big achiever. And when I first discovered alcohol, a friend of mine's parents. I think I was in high school. I think I was in junior high or something. But anyway, she let us have some wine at their house. And I had, you know, just enough red wine. I still remember the way that tasted. A couple of glasses and I felt so grown up all of a sudden, you know. And I felt like I just relaxed, you know, for the first time, I guess. And I remembered. I didn't go crazy like a lot of my classmates did drinking in high school. I remember. I remember some of them would just take, you know, a half pint and just down it. You know, it was like, yeah. They were on kind of a suicide risk thing, you know. I didn't do that. I did get drunk a lot on weekends. I played music and got in a band all the way through high school. You know, we did party. But I didn't. I don't think I was doing too much more abusing than anybody else. But I do remember riding around by myself in this little town. Um. With a quart of Budweiser between my legs and drinking that quart and riding around and feeling right. I'll always remember that because I always went back to that when I was drinking, like trying to get to that, yeah, I'm all right. You know, I believe I can handle just about any damn thing, you know. That's the way it made me feel. I loved alcohol. And I, um, you know, I didn't, I didn't really, I mean, I did crazy things. But I didn't get in a lot of trouble in high school. In fact, I was achieving and thinking I was going to be a scientist or something. I was so smart. I thought I got accepted at UNC up in Chapel Hill. And I got a scholarship and all that. And I don't know. I didn't know anything about what I wanted to do. But I thought, well, hell, I'll be a biochemist or something like that. That sounds good. So I went to, um. I went to, um, a few chemistry, took a few chemistry classes. And that all came crashing down because all of a sudden I was at a big university. And I was a little fish, you know. And I was not nearly as smart as I thought I was when I went in there. So I switched over to, I don't know, English. I ended up, by the time I graduated, I was in religion, you know. Because I. Anything that was hard for me. And where I couldn't be at the top of the class, I just quit and moved on to something else. Because I thought I had to be the best at everything. It just, you know. I actually did love studying about religion and psychology, too. I ended up with two majors. And that today is still some of my biggest. Those are my interests. As far as reading and studying. And. But at the time, I discovered pot and speed. And drank more and more during college. And started drinking by myself. I remember going to movies by myself. You know, drinking, drinking. Drinking more and more. Getting stopped by the cops in college. But still, I don't think I was much worse off than most people I was hanging out with. You know. The. The change for me came after I graduated. And I got accepted at a big place to do. To study religion. To be a theologian. Thank you. I decided at that point. My draft number came. This was 1970. So my draft number. We were all waiting on our numbers. The lottery numbers. You know. I'd like to know if we were going to Vietnam or not. Mine came up high. So I had a choice right then. This is the crossroads in my life. Go up to Harvard. Divinity school. And become whatever. Go to Athens, Georgia. And party and play music. And guess which one I did. Yeah. I was so relieved. Not to have to achieve anything. I just felt great. And I just wanted to party. By that time I had already been. You know. Doing a lot of other stuff besides drinking too. And I just wanted to drop out and have some damn fun. And that was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. That was it. I wanted to have some damn fun. And take the pressure off for a while. You know. I could go back to school any time. And that lasted until I was thirty five. You know. Basically the party lasted until I came in this program. Of course the party was not fun the last five or six years. And a lot of the stuff was not fun at all. Because I ended up here in Atlanta one time doing a record. And I was high on some. Some. stuff and then i decided to take these red downers second of all and drink some liquor just to calm down the next thing i know i'm in the hospital you know overdosed and luckily the girl on my home would notice i wasn't breathing i was 23 i think maybe 24 you know but that it did not even all it did for me was say okay don't do those things together anymore you'll be all right just stop doing don't do those two things i learned that's what i learned from that you know so i almost died back in my 20s i could have used the program then but of course i wasn't ready for that but um anyway i went to athens and i knew some folks there in the music thing and i just we basically just parted and i discovered i could kind of write some songs and um you know it just i don't want to spend a hell of a lot of time on my drinking but i started getting duis i started i started not remembering what happened last night you know and that would bother me for a little while and long enough you know it wouldn't last that long i wouldn't worry about it that that much but it was starting to bother me and people were starting to tell me you need to cut back you know you're making a fool out of yourself here you don't even know what you said last night do you and i'm like oh i know you know but i had no idea what i said or where i was or anything and so i would try to cut back and this is in my you know mid-20s i started trying to control it a little bit maybe just switch over to this stuff here and smoke this and just stop drinking that liquor you know everything will be all right just drink beer my dad said that just drink beer and uh of course that didn't work you know it never worked for long and i got my first dui right and doing a u-turn in front of alan's hamburgers i'm drunk as hell and then midnight or something and i said well after i've sat in jail for a while somebody bailed me out i was like i'm never getting another dui again damn to you 30 days later i got another one coming from savannah just hauling ass drunk as hell it's amazing i didn't die got another one down in some little town south georgia that scared me a little bit it scared me a lot actually because i knew i i really didn't mean for that to happen i didn't mean for that to happen i didn't i was out of control and i knew it so um i started keeping a diary at one point so that i could kind of it was a good idea you know i was like okay i'm not gonna drink and um i feel a lot better i didn't drink that day i may have smoked some weed or something but i wasn't drinking and i had this diary i kept for a couple of weeks where i wasn't drinking and then there's a entry that says well i had a couple of beers last night and it seems okay and then there's no more entry you know that's the story right there i'm off and running again and that's the hell with the diary i'm gonna have some fun and so you know i was married at that time and things were not going well we had this big house where everybody was coming to party and it was just one big party the whole time and uh but yeah people were still telling me you need to come back because you're doing more than we are you know you're getting you're just embarrassing yourself and um so eventually i won't go into all the embarrassing things i did there's a lot of them like falling off the stage grabbing the mic and just saying what i really want to say right now in front of a bunch of people you know that don't remember what i said and anyway a lot of embarrassing things like we all go go through but i moved down at some point i got the roars to move down to new orleans where i had some friends down there where in my mind it's like i want to get the hell away from all y'all folks in athens and you know because i had created a mess up there for myself with my marriage falling apart and pissing off friends and just not acting right and so i wanted to go down there where i could get away from all that and drink like i wanted to it was open 24 7 down there and i love new orleans so met a girl down there she let me live with her she had a little two-year-old son and i'm married to her now by the way i've been married 27 years so i moved in with her she and we we had a relationship it was a you know kind of fell head over heels in love and i would visit down there but eventually when i moved down there and moved in with her she realized this was not just a party i was doing when i'd come to new orleans i lived like this you know and getting up and just throwing up every morning blurry and bleary and drinking at whatever time i was going to start that day and just partying all the way through the night losing my car and i was dragging her along too and um because she's not even a drinker but she was trying to keep up with me but eventually she she was in therapy at the time and her therapist told her how to tell me this she said uh we i just can't stand to see you me and isaac the little one we can't stand to see you killing yourself so you're gonna have to either get sober do something about your drinking or leave and nobody had ever told me that before you know because everybody was like you just come back some you know everything will be all right she was laying in and i could tell she meant it and we had had some fights about this so when she said that to me part of me was the hell with you you you're not gonna tell me what to do about my drink again i'll take care of this and the other parts of me said yeah you're right because i had actually gotten an abuse i'm remembering now i got some interviews i tried to stop on my own i even drank on that after a while and i had you know given it my best shot to cut back and stay soft and i couldn't do it so part of me knew she was right this time i was driving from new orleans in the middle of my addiction carrying guns paranoid and i was driving up here to play or something and i was on the interstate i was just at the bottom this is before she told me this actually i said i started saying the lord's not the lord's prayer the 23rd song i just started saying that because i was on the interstate and i was on the interstate and i was on the interstate and i was on the interstate and i was on the interstate and i was on the interstate and i was on the cylinder and i had some NEA's at a n GE AR. crossing the New Orleans a all either way to do something for the New Orleans in the middle of my addiction m accessoriesFirst off you've gotta add this plug ar actuall I'm having trouble with them because I had some real album vend encourage some people here today and their equipment as well The only thing I could think of to pray. And I started crying. It was like a huge experience. It was like one of those Bill Wilson kind of the wind blew through. And I felt mad because I heard this voice. You have got to stop drinking and drugging. It's not cut back. You have got to stop. And it was real calm and beautiful. Some voice within me. And I felt like, wow, that's it. And I have, now I'm done. And I felt so relieved and happy. And I was on a pink cloud for about two days until I started drinking again. Of course. You know, it didn't last. But I had a big spiritual experience. Because I had hit some kind of bottom. I also had this vision at the time. I was probably in DTs. But I had a vision of myself. It's a true vision. Going down in this well. And trying to climb my way up. And I was just going down, down, down. And it was so clear to me. That I had this experience. And I'm thinking, well, damn, that's it. I'm good now. It did not last. Thirty days later, though, my wife tells me this. I've got to leave. And I finally made a phone call to, I forget the name of the place in New Orleans. But it was a counselor. He said, come over and we'll talk. So I went over. And. He said, well, how much do you drink? I said, well, you know, I drink three or four beers a night. But I've got a mental problem. That's not my problem. I've got some shit going on up here that's just, you wouldn't believe. And he said, well, let me just tell you something about myself. So he said, I'm a recovering alcoholic. I had never even heard those words together. You know, I didn't know anything about recovery. And he said. I used to drink. And this is what happened to me. And I got sober in AA. And I said, well, after I heard that, somehow, I said, well, you know what? I really drink more than four or five beers a night. I drink my ass off every day. And I even sat in this little old shotgun house the other day and drank a case and did not even get drunk. In fact, I drank myself sober. I just started telling him the truth. You know, which I had not done since I was a little kid. I don't think told the real truth. And I said. I'm about to kill myself. And he said, well, go to this. I'm going to send you over here to this AA meeting at Tulane University tomorrow. And I'm going to have somebody meet you there. So I went. And my first meeting, I don't know about. It's different for everybody. My first meeting, I felt relieved. Like, damn. First of all, these people seem happy and healthy. And here I am dragging ass. And here just shaking. And they told me that I had a disease of alcoholism. And everything they said made sense to me. Like, the first drink is what gets you. Oh, I didn't know that. I thought it was the fourth or fifth one that got me. No, just stay away from that first one. And you don't have to drink again, they told me. You don't have to drink again. I always. I just knew I had to drink. I just had to. I could not face. The way I felt. And they said, no, you don't. Just today. Just don't drink today. Come back tomorrow. We'll tell you how this works. And I felt relieved. Like, damn. There's some hope for me. And this is what is wrong with me. I did not know what was wrong with me. I just thought I was a weak person. Who was so screwed up. He couldn't even cut back on his drinking. You know. Just kept going. So, let me tell you a couple of things that happened to me. I went. I went to 90 meetings in 90 days. Like they told me. I pretty much said, okay, whatever y'all say, I'm doing it. Because I was ready. I'm glad. I'm really glad I tried on my own before it failed. Because I was ready for some help. And I think that probably saved my ass. But 30 days, I think it was, into my sobriety. Whatever it was. It was not drinking. I was feeling good. But then I had a gig to play in some marina down in Florida. With a group. And it was a theater, actually. So, I got a, you know, I said, sure, I got it. So, I went down there and played. And it was not a very good gig. The audience was kind of quiet. And it didn't seem like we were going over very well. And I was getting nervous as hell. And I look around. And everybody else is drinking, you know, on stage. And knocking back some beers and feeling okay. So, we took a break. And I'm getting freaked out. Like I got to have something to drink here. I've got to have some. I can't leave. I can't go back on that stage and feel this bad. And I walked out. And there's a pool out there by the marina. And it's just me and this security guard sitting there. Don't ask me. It's an old guy like that. If I remember, he had white hair. I don't know. But he didn't say anything. He just said to me, I know how to pray. He said, I just get up and thank God every morning that I'm alive and the sun is rising. He just went on. And I didn't even say anything to him. I mean, he didn't say anything. He didn't say, hello, how are you doing? He just said, I know how to pray. And it shook me up so much. It was like it took my mind off myself long enough for me to, by the time he got through talking, I heard the band was playing. I forgot to go back in. They already started it. It's the concert. So, he took me. This is one of those God things, I'm sure. But he took me to a place where it was like, okay, everything's all right. Go back in there and do it. And I felt so relieved and calm. That I thought, well, man, this is great. Miracles happen in this program. And that kind of got me on the road to believing, well, maybe there is such a thing as a higher power. You know, I'll give it a shot. Another thing that happened was about three months into the program, I hadn't really worked steps. I kind of did one, two, three with my temporary sponsor. Didn't have a sponsor. And I was on the Amtrak coming up. Here, it's in play or something. I can't remember what it was for. But I was by myself on the Amtrak. And I'm coming through Birmingham. It dawned on me that the club car was there. Which is what I always used to go to when I was on the Amtrak. And stay in that club car and drink. It just hit me. Oh, my God. The club car. I've got to go there. It was like my alcoholic mind was real strong. And then I thought, well, hell. I can't go there. I can't go drink. I'm sober now. And I was freaking out. I got my big book. I had my big book with me. Thank God. And I opened it up. And I'm just thumbing through it trying to get calmed down a little bit. Because I wanted to go drink so bad. And the guy across the aisle from me says, hey, man. I noticed you were in the program. He said, you know, my ex-wife lives in Birmingham. And I'm going up to speak in Atlanta. I've got to talk to somebody. And I said, okay, let's go talk. And so we went to the club car and talked. And saved my ass again. So, and maybe his too. I don't know. He was feeling bad about his ex-wife or something. So that was another one of those God things. And that kept me going, you know, because I definitely didn't have my feet in this program. I was just going to meetings. And this is, you know, what I had to do. I finally got a sponsor. I was watering. I took a job with these two guys. That had, my career in music, by the way, had just bottomed out. I didn't have anything going. Really nothing was happening for me. Because I had pretty much, well, the whole business was out. And I had trashed my career. So I decided I would work for these two guys who had an interior plant place. You know, like these plants, they water. You water, they put them in, you water them. You know, you go. I watered plants with a little cart around these big oil buildings in New Orleans. 20-something floors around and around and around. And it was great for me. I'd never had a job before. And so I'd get up at 7 o'clock and go get my fan with the cart and everything. Get in the elevator and start watering plants all day long. And I felt good. It was like, damn, I'm sober. I got a job. And this feels right. Because I knew, actually, I knew I was on the right track. I was going to meetings. I wasn't drinking. I was making a little money, you know. And I didn't really care. I decided if music was so tied up with drugs and alcohol for me, playing and being around the club scene and the whole thing was so tied up that I just let it go. And sobriety was more important than me being a musician and me being a performer or whatever. I let it go. And believe me, I loved music. But I also loved the sobriety thing a lot. Because I knew there was something there. It wasn't just about not drinking. It was about a spiritual life, which is really what I was looking for since I was carrying that quarter beer around in high school, trying to get feeling right. It was the answer for me. It was like, this is how you live. They got the answer. They can teach me how to live. And it was working. It was a higher power. And I can choose that higher power. I like that because I didn't like church. I gave that up. I'm so defiant about stuff like that that I needed something like this where you could, it was higher power. You could find your own higher power. A loving higher power. So I knew I was on the right track. I did that for three years. I got a sponsor. Finally, I got this sponsor who scared the hell out of me in meetings. He was so outspoken. And he was, his dad had committed suicide. And he would talk about how mad he was. But he expressed his feelings. It was a shock the hell out of me. You know, quiet stuff. I'm not just the guy that I am. And so I, at some point, I tried to work steps on my own, like four. I'm going to work four. And I tried and I couldn't figure out how to work the step. And I kept hearing about people ending up in a bar. I don't know how I got there. I just started drinking, man. And I said, that's going to happen to me if I don't get me a sponsor. I got scared because I really wasn't in the program yet. I was coming to meetings, but I wasn't in the lifeboat yet. I didn't have my feet on the ground yet. I was feeling relieved and great and on a pink cloud, but I still was floating. So I asked this guy to be my sponsor. He said, sure. So he, we went to his house. He told me about himself. He said, we work one, two, and three. We're going to work four now. And, um, he told me, he said, let me tell you about myself. He was a wild ass French quarter character and he told me some stuff that he did. And I was like, damn, I guess I can tell my story now because man, he was wild. I had never heard some of the stuff he's talking about. So I wrote my little story down and it actually was not, it was hard because I had, even though I hadn't acted. I had a lot of shame about myself and about things I had done, the way I treated people, women, the way I treated women over the years, the way I treated, I was so competitive. I had hurt all my friends. I mean, all the shame I was carrying. I didn't even know it until I started writing it down. And then I got to my father who I thought, well, I just love my father. And then we, I started writing about it. I was mad as hell at my father. I thought he abandoned me when I was a teenager. I thought he abandoned me when I was a teenager. I thought he just quit and didn't love me anymore. And I was so mad. And when I, when I read my fist up to him, it took a couple of days to get through this thing. I was just sitting at his house and I said, I'm so damn mad with my father. And I was feeling it. And he said, well, first we're going to put the knives away in the kitchen here. We're not going to do nothing. Because I said, I don't want to just tear your damn house up. That's what I told him. These are honest words, though. I was angry. And I said, well, I'm not going to do anything. And he said, well, what do I do? I was so damn mad. He said, we're going to go walk down the street. Me and you. We went and walked in his neighborhood. And it was like the most powerful thing I think that has ever happened to me was that little bit of walking. Because what he told me was I can walk through the ceiling and I don't have to act out on it. It doesn't have to hurt me. I just have to feel it. And feel it with somebody. As a witness kind of. As a support person. Somebody who's been there before. And that was the biggest lesson I guess I've had. One of the big ones. Walk through it. Feel it. Because he told me, you know, you're coming to life. You've been dead for a long time. And you've got to feel. It's like waking up from a car crash. You know, you've got bruises. But you're going to heal if you just go through it. And feel it. I never, that had never occurred to me. My whole point of life was to run from feelings, you know. That's why I loved alcohol. I could run from everything. I could avoid everything. He taught me how to walk straight through it. But not by myself. He never said, you've got to do this all by yourself. So, we went through that fifth segment. And all of a sudden I felt like a human being. Just one of the crowd, you know. And I was in the program for the first time. I didn't have to worry about ending up in a bar drunk. If I was going to do that, it would be my own damn choice. It wasn't going to be like some, you know, subconscious thing where I wake up drunk. It would be a conscious decision I'd make. So, I was in the program then. And then I had to make my amends and all this. Not easy. Very difficult stuff. But all of it has been the best stuff that I've ever done too. And that, you know, the AA program asked me to do all this terrifically hard, difficult stuff. And it all is the easier, softer way of living, really. Because without doing this, I'm going to be suffering my ass off all the time. Because I'm holding it all in. I'm not making amends. I'm not being honest. AA has taught me to be real. To get real. To be honest. To be authentic. And I really didn't... I didn't know who I was. And didn't, you know, have a clue of what to do in my life. Even after I worked the steps. I was still watering plants, you know, for three years down there. And that stuff got boring after a while, let me tell you. And it occurred to me that, you know, just because you're sober, you know, you've left a big part of yourself behind in sobriety. Because you're scared of it. And that was the part of me that was creative, a little bit risk-taking, vulnerable. And so I said, okay, I think I'm going to try to write a song sober. Which I had never done before, believe me. I used coke to get up there and booze to do this, you know. So I just sat at a little piano. I had a new ones and played around some. And eventually I had a song. Wasn't that good, but... It was okay, you know. And it felt good. And it was like coming home a little bit, you know. Like, wow, yeah, I'm supposed to have a life beyond watering plants and going to meetings, you know. So I kept doing that. And I learned how to write sober. And I've written a lot of steps since then. But one of the big things that taught me was just show up and play around a little bit. Just show up. Don't wait around all the time. Or the way I used to do it was just, okay, we've got a record coming up. We've got to get messed up so we can write some songs. You know, like a week before the thing is due. And now I try to show up on a regular basis. Just play around with some things. Everybody's got creativity. And in millions of different ways. And I think AA has taught me just go there and play around a little bit. And just keep going back. Keep going back there and playing. And eventually you have something beautiful. It just comes up. So that's been my experience for the scary part of, you know, whatever creativity is scary sometimes. Because it feels out of control. And it is. But it doesn't have to be that kind of drinking out of control thing. I don't have to go into that bad place. I can be scared and be vulnerable and still be sober. So I decided to go back to school. I thought, well, hell, I'm not going to have a music career. I'm not going to have a music career anymore. Whoops. So I better. The only thing I knew about was addiction. So I said, I'll go back to school and go to social work school. And become a counselor or something. I don't know. So I went up to Georgia and went to school. And brought my family up to Athens. People that leave New Orleans, they're not happy. Because the food's not right. The coffee's not right. People aren't right. There's no Marty. We're all, you know. But so she stuck it out with me. And I owe her big time for that. Because I kind of conned them. And I said, look, I'm just going to go up there to school. Then we'll go back to New Orleans. But I wanted to stay and get back in the music business. But anyway, I went to social work school. And about halfway through social work school, I get this call from a big rock star, English guy. His people, actually, not him. But his people call me and say, do you want to be in this band? I said, no. Damn right. I sure do. I love this guy. So they said, well, rehearsal's starting in Nashville in a couple weeks. And okay, I'll be there. And so I made the decision to stop. Take a break from school. I could come back and finish up, which I did. So I went up. I hadn't even picked up a horn in, God knows how many, a long time. I didn't even own a tenor saxophone, which they were warning. And I went up there and jumped in the middle of this with all these super musicians. And I didn't feel worth a damn. I felt so out of place. I'm like so behind these guys and so less than. It was all that old feeling again of insecurity. I even got paranoid, like they're going to send me on a bus tomorrow back to Athens because they realize what a terrible musician I am. And these were real feelings. And luckily, I went to meetings in Nashville. I told them how I was feeling. I'm feeling terrible. I'm scared shitless. I want to do this, but I'm not prepared. So I had to just work, work, work and try to get up to speed. And it turned out they kept up. They did a long tour, worldwide tour, and went to meetings in Japan and Australia and all over the place. And I stayed sober during this, but it was the most, just about the most. Painful thing I've ever done in sobriety because I felt so inadequate. But the program worked for me. I stayed sober and they kept asking me back on these tours for 16 years. Nobody else got asked back. All these super guys. The sober one got asked back. And I was like, that is amazing. But anyway, it just showed me that I can walk through things sober that I just didn't think I could do. And school was another one. That was not easy for me either. I wasn't, been out of school for so long, I couldn't even think, you know. But anyway, I made it through that. I did some counseling and then I got another call and I eventually let the counseling go and I became a musician again, a songwriter. You know, that has been a beautiful part of my sobriety to be able to go back to what I really loved doing and do it sober this time. Because I've gotten so many, you know, blessings just being able to be there and remember and be aware and be present when all this is happening. Played some beautiful places. I've had to kind of, I decided to do a solo thing and try to do my own career. And that's been very difficult and still is. But you know, it's just another blessing to be able to, you know, find out what I want to do and ask myself what I want to do. What is it that I want to do? What means the most to me? And try to do it sober. And it wasn't being on a side man on some big tour. It really wasn't that. It was writing a good song and recording a good song of my own. That's what I wanted to do. So the money's not very good, but I'm doing what I want to do these days. You know, I'm just still making meetings. I'm still struggling through the hardest things in my sobriety have been relationships with the people closest to me. I still have some trouble with that. And what happens to me is that I go back into my adolescent, defiant, pissed off, defensive mode with people. And I still struggle with that. And instead of being able to listen to somebody when they're saying, you know, you're self-absorbed, you're not paying any attention, you're not present, instead of doing that, I can get real defensive and withdrawn and punishing. Now, this is the honest truth. Punish people by being silent. You know, like my wife, for instance. So I came over here to Atlanta. I got a lot of outside help over the period of, you know, when I moved up to Athens. I came over here to a group, a therapy group for, I don't know, several years. I'm driving once a week over here because I wanted to. I wanted to deal with some marriage stuff and personal stuff that I just didn't think AA was, it's not supposed to deal with everything, you know. It was keeping me sober so I could get some help with some stuff. But I kind of need some specialized care, you know. So I learned that what I was doing was I was dropping back into my old adolescent mode. And what I needed was a good, strong adult AA mind. And that is what I try to do today. I stand up and get back my AA adult mind. And that is so hard sometimes when I'm in the middle of being mad with somebody or when I feel like I've been abused or criticized. The golden boy is not supposed to be criticized. When I get that defensive thing going, it's a real challenge for me. And this is the challenge in my life, I think. Get out of that mode and get into the AA mode. AA, clear thinking adult mode, which is just listen to what they're saying. You don't have to buy it all, but don't get defensive. I'm here. My adult mind is here. And that to me is what AA is trying to teach me. Just step back. Don't react. And don't go cussing people out. And don't withdraw. That's the old behavior. And to me, it's my old adolescent behavior because I recognize that when somebody hurt my feelings, I go to my room. I don't talk to anybody. I just hold it onto that anger and that shame. So this is the challenge. There's always challenges for me in sobriety, but this is a big one. Come up out of that. Stand up. And I tell myself, stand up. You know, you can listen to what people say, even if it's critical. And you can do the right thing in a crazy way and let them know what you're thinking about them, you know, and how much they hurt you. You just need to listen. Take it in. Decide whether it's true or not. Talk to another person. Stand up. You know, that's... Instead of just falling back in to that old, oh, to hell with you, to hell with everybody. Fuck y'all, you know. That's the way I get. So it's a message that I learned. Stand up and be an adult here. Wait a minute. Just listen. They're not trying to hurt you. So these are the things. There's a million little things like this that I'm trying to learn in sobriety. And that's why it's such an adventure. Years and a bit every day is an adventure. And there's always challenges. So I'm just grateful to be sober and have a chance to learn this stuff. Because believe me, when I came in here, I was in bad, bad shape. And I hadn't learned anything in many years except, you know, just what can I get to kill this pain. So now I do have pain, but I'm learning from it. That's the big difference. I do cry, but the tears do heal now instead of just... The way I was crying drunk didn't do a damn thing. Didn't change anything. So I just encourage all y'all newcomers, hang in there, walk through it with somebody else. You're not supposed to do it yourself, by yourself. Just keep coming back. And thank you. Thanks, Daniel. Thanks, Tim. Thanks. Thank you, Tim. What a great story, Randall. Thanks so much for coming over from Athens. You really told my story. Except for the part where the English rock star calls. Thank you. Okay. Seventh tradition. Every AA group ought to be fully self-supporting. Decline outside contributions, donations, support the group, and AA at the zone level. And I've asked Phillip to give out the chips. Yay! Yeah. All right. And now for our first AA group to come out and chip with me. This is why he's coming. This is the first time we've invited him after some great events. This is not something I want to wait to. 30 days. There's something written on it. Anybody got 30 days? You know what you get 30 days? Six months, yell at them, yell at them. Six or a month full, or so years. I'm gonna do six things I need to do. Call this all sets. Run to pray. Do those things. I've got a great chance of getting sober and things. I'm not willing to do all. All life. All six of those things, I have no chance of doing. Thank you very much for your story. It was wonderful. You really helped me. I'm going to talk to you after the meeting about holding that stuff. Thank you very much. A year or multiple. I have a second thought on those white chips. Are we clear? Do we have any AA-related announcements? No announcements? If you would like to become a member of this home group, see one of the home group members who are raising their hands now. I'd like to remind everybody that anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities. And for those of you who will, we have a nice way of closing.
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