Get Big Enough to Get Little Enough to Surrender — That Is the Paradox of the First Step – Bish M.

I'll give you Ted B. from Lamar, Texas. Hi, I'm Ted Bishop, and I'm an alcoholic. And it has been by the grace of God and with the help of the people and the program of Alcoholics Anonymous that I haven't found necessary to take a drink since August 19, 1974. And I'm very, very grateful for that. And I want to thank the people here who have been very kind to my wife and I. I had three drunks that were going to come up here with me from Texas City. One of them got drunk, one of them went to work, and one of them got involved in a divorce. So I just... Those things always take precedence over trying to get sober, you know. So... I brought my wife with me, and I'm glad to have her with me. In November, we'll have been married 35 years. Margaret's sitting right over here. Margaret, would you stand up? Thank you. And I want to thank Bill and Liz, the blissful connubials, for their kindness to us. Thank you for the gifts in our room. We appreciate them. Thank you very much. And I hope I haven't made a mistake while you all were reading all this stuff. I may have to quit and go to the restroom here. I hope none of you all are in that situation. If you are, just go right ahead and go. Hell, you're not going to miss that much anyway. It's a lot better to miss than to miss. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You know, I had a problem when I came to AA. I had taken all my feelings, and I had completely cut them off. I had no feelings at all when I came to Alcoholics Anonymous. I thought that the only problem I had was that I drank a little bit too much on occasion. And I remember after I'd been in AA about six months, I went to a conference in San Antonio. And the reason I went to this thing was that... They had a psychiatrist who was talking. And I said, well, I think I'll go there, because, man, I know a psychiatrist can tell an intelligent fellow like me something. And I went up there, and this psychiatrist was calling a little jingle. And it went like this. He said, if you can smile when things go wrong and say it doesn't matter, if you can laugh off cares and woes and trouble makes you fatter, if you can keep a cheerful face when all around are blue, you better have your head examined, bud. There's something wrong with you. And, you know, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what in the hell he was talking about. I simply couldn't figure out what y'all were talking about. The only problem I had when I got to AA was that I drank too much. I was here a long time before I ever saw any other problem that I had. I guess, really, it was about... I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I've got four reasons why people won't accept the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, and I had all four of them. Youth, health, wealth, and brains. You know, some of these young people come to AA, and they say they're too young to be an Alcoholics Anonymous. I was 47 when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous. Hell, I was too young to be an Alcoholics Anonymous. And, you know, youth is always... Youth is always the ones that... They're chance takers, and they fight our wars, and they're the devil-may-care people. So I can see that it's difficult, that youth is an enemy of sobriety. And I was a healthy person. I didn't have any real physical problems. Well, I passed out in the courtroom one time, but that was a mistake. They took me to the hospital, and they told me I was a pre-diabetic. And, you know, when I got to AA, I figured I was probably a pre-alcoholic. That stopped me then. I wasn't wealthy, but I had means to live. I had a family. I had a home. And so, well, if you're successful, then people say that you have no problems. This is a criteria by which people base how well you're doing in life. And I was a successful person. So I couldn't see that I had any particular problem. And brains was definitely not a helper. You know, I was too smart for Alcoholics Anonymous. I could see right through this song and dance. And if I was clever enough, I could sober up on my own. Well, I didn't, and I couldn't. And it took Alcoholics Anonymous for me to find sobriety, and I'm grateful for that. I was a judge down in Texas City in Lamarck from 1962 through 1974. And during some of that time, I did some of the worst drinking that I ever did in my life. I remember I used to go and open up the Caravan Club in Texas City at 11 o'clock every day. That's when it opened up, and I was the first one there. And I would go in, and I would order a vodka martini. And I would sit there, and I would drink those vodka martinis on the rocks. And they used to have great big old olives in them. And I said the reason I went was because they had such good olives. And I'd sit there, and I'd drink those vodka martinis on the rocks. And as I would say, I had court at 2 o'clock. And as I sat there and drank those martinis, it became imminently clear to me what I was going to have to do at court that afternoon. And I would sit there, and I would drink those things. And I would drink those things until I couldn't stand up. And then I'd go over, and I'd sit down, and I'd start holding court. Court started at 2 o'clock. Sometimes it started at 3. And sometimes it started at 4. And sometimes it didn't start at all because I didn't get there. But it didn't make any difference, you see, because I was the judge, and court didn't start until I got there. And they'd just postpone it until the next day. But when I could, I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I would. I'd show up, and they would bring people before me, many of them just like you. And I would wonder why in the world you people couldn't drink like gentlemen, like I was doing. And I had just gotten from the caravan club, and I would be sitting there drunk, and I would be wondering why you people couldn't drink socially. And the lawyers would present cases to me, and the only way I knew that, you know, they were over was that all the lawyers had sat down. And I knew the case was over, and I'd mumble something, and the clerk would say, what did he say? And the clerk would say, he says you're guilty, and the fine is $52.50, pay right here. And we'd move on to the next case. And that was, for me, a typical. Court day. And as the judge there, I used to marry a lot of people. I had a problem there. I'd be drunk a lot of times. But I solved that problem. I was also with the real estate man there in Texas City, and I taught him the marriage ceremony. So when people would come to me to get married and I was drunk, why, he'd perform a ceremony. We got a lot of sinners running around Texas City. I'm not that nice. And I was a cute drunk. I always specialized in cuteness. And so when I was able to marry people, I'd say, now I hope that this marriage was made in heaven and it'll last forever. At the same time, I'm a little older and I'm a little wiser than you. And in case this thing don't work out, why? Here's my attorney at law court. And I created confusion wherever I went. People would come to court and they'd say, you're not the judge, because they'd been married by the real estate man. I was also the coroner of Texas City in Lamarck. I used to be the coroner. I used to be the coroner. I used to be the coroner. I used to pronounce people dead. Everybody had a heart attack. You know why nobody dies from alcoholism? Because they got coroners like me that just go out and say, everybody dies from a heart attack. And I went out there one time and they pronounced somebody dead. And I looked at this fellow and I said, he's dead. He's got a heart attack. And so they moved him into the bedroom and I passed out. In the living room. I woke up in the ambulance dead. They left us stiff. They said he looked better than I did. You would have drank tea if you hadn't listened to the stuff I hadn't listened to. You know? We had a case that one time. We were trying a murder case. And they had this lady. You know? You understand? And the district attorney says, in what part of the anatomy was the deceased shot? And she said, do I have to answer that, Judge? And I said, you sure do, young lady. She said, well, Judge, you won't believe this, but he was shot right in the subpoena. So when the police got there, he was DOD. He said, what is that DOD? She says, dead on the driveway. Dead on the driveway. And he said, well, I don't know. I picked up a fellow for a seat on the car. And I said, how come you took the car? And he said, the car was sitting there by the graveyard and I figured the owner was dead. We had a case of assault there one time. This gal had knocked off this other gal's wig. And she filed charges on the one that knocked off her wig. And so the wife. She said, I don't know. She gets up and she says, I saw this girl. She'd run around with my husband. And said, that's why I went over and knocked off her wig. And the girlfriend got up and she says, I've never seen this woman before in my life. I don't know who she is. Don't know her husband. Don't know anything about this case. Husband got up and looked at the girlfriend and said, I've never seen this woman before in my life. My wife's crazy. Somebody raised their hand back and said, Judge, Judge, you want an impartial witness? And I said, we need one. He come up and he said, all there is to this case. He said, look to the boyfriend and said, he was furnishing the gas. Look to the girlfriend and said, she was furnishing the ass. That's all there is to this case. About two years before I got to AA, I got a hair transplant. I was talking to Bill about one yesterday. Yesterday. I figured my hair was getting a little bit thin on top. And what the lady's losing her interest in me. So I went to Pasadena and I went to this doctor and he said, we can give you 20 hair plugs right around the top of your head here. Charge $5 a plug and you can have a luxurious head of hair for $100. And I said, man, that's a wonderful deal. And what they do, they take these little clippers and they cut out round patches of hair. Out of the back of your neck. And they dig holes up here in the top of your head. And they take these plugs and they plant them. They plant them right around the top of your head just like that. And I stand before you this morning with 20 plugs right around the top of my head. Right here. Right now. And I still have this fear that someday all my hair is going to fall out. And these 20 plugs are just going to be standing up there just like that. Now that's frightening to me. They say they can get that stuff from almost any part of the body now. Those plugs. But I don't want everybody here to know that mine came from the back of my neck. You know. Yeah, they give you anesthetic. And they give you anesthesia. And they give you anesthesia. And they give you anesthesia. And they give you anesthesia. And they give you anesthesia. And they give you anesthesia. And they give you anesthesia. And I had blood soaking through these bandages and dripping down on these old coveralls that I had. And I went home. Margaret said, you're going to have to go get our boy out of jail. He's up there for possession of drugs again. And so I run up to the report and I said, I'm the judge of Texas City in Lamarck. My boy is in jail. I'm here to get him out. The police sergeant looked at me and he said, the hell you are. And, you know, they was going to put me in jail. And some guy come by and said, yeah, that's that judge down there. All right. So they let him out. But I really don't remember much of what I did when I was drinking because I was drinking. And I don't remember much of what I did when I wasn't drinking because I wasn't drinking. I remember the resentment. I didn't know that's what they were then. But for the life of me, I could not figure out why I could not have all the money I wanted, all the approval that I wanted, all the sex that I wanted, and all the power that I wanted. Why in the world would a world be put together where you couldn't have everything you wanted? That wasn't right. And it wasn't right that it wasn't right. I tried to straighten everybody out. So I could get what I wanted the way I wanted it. They wouldn't listen. They retaliated. They put me down. Man, I resented that. Everywhere I went, people left. I said, there they go. I must pursue them. For I am their leader. I said, to hell with it. I resigned from the human race. I just cut myself off from people entirely. When I got to AA, I did not know my marriage date. I did not know how old my children were. I didn't know what grade they were in school. I could not name you two people that I had married. I could not name you two clients that I'd had in over 20 years of practice. I was just completely out of it. I never had any principles to live by. I never had any rules. I tried to adopt your way of living. I looked at other people and tried to do the things that they did. One of my first deals was trying to please other people and do what you would have me to do. In order that I myself might have some principles to live by. But I got tired of trying to please all you dummies. And I said, to hell with that. But I never gave it up as a real principle of life. I tried religion as a way of life. I belonged to the church, the first Baptist church. They called me Brother Ted. I was dipped and I was dumped. But it didn't work. All I could see, there'd be some fellow standing up behind the podium just like this and he'd be saying something like this, Friends, there's coming a day. It's going to be here soon. It's going to be here when you least expect it. It's going to be a judgment day. It's going to be a final day. And they're going to haul your butt up in front of this wide screen and they're going to flash back on every rotten, loud, lousy, miserable, filthy, hateful, despicable thing you ever did in all your life. Man, I didn't feel too good. You know, I got the idea in church that you had to feel bad in order to be good. I could just see all the dummies sitting around there getting ready to run old Ted up there on the screen. They don't know their turn's coming up next. And they're sitting there saying, Shame. Shame. Shame. Shame. You know, I thought about it a lot. And the only reason I can come up with as to why religion didn't work for me is that I didn't get 90 sermons in 90 days. I tried success as a way of life. I was a judge. I was a lawyer. High on the social register. I had a home. I had a family. I had charge accounts at every liquor store in Texas City and Lamarck and one in Galveston. That's success. But the thing that I was looking for wasn't there either. And I guess the best way you could describe my life was that I almost made it. Everything I ever did, I almost. You know, I was telling me about my feelings. And I tried to live on this basis of no feelings. I'd be sitting there in my chair and the knives and the furniture would be whizzing by my head. And I would look at this crazy, demented wife of mine, knowing that it was driving her crazy because I would not react to what she was doing. She said I smirked at her. She said, I'm not going to do this. I'm going to do something about this. I'm going to make her feel that she's not going to be able to do it. But I found the answer with alcohol. And without it, I was a nothing. I was a dope. I was a sap. I was a wimp. But with it, I was magnificent. I was witty. I was charming. And I was wild. My God. I've always ate for swallowing. And I kept on drinking until I just couldn't drink anymore. I mean, I just could not drink anymore. But I kept on drinking anyway. And it got so bad that I tried to find some way to control my drinking. And I went about it in the same way that a smart-aleck college graduate would. I started reading books. And as a result of reading these books, I started jogging. But I got thirsty. I tried yoga. I tried transcendental meditation. But all I could meditate on was why the jogging and the yoga wouldn't work for me. I tried psychiatry. I went back in my youth. I found out I hated my father. Well, I hated just about everybody, really. I wasn't okay. And by God, you weren't either. And it got worse and worse. And my younger husband, indeed. He was evidently helpless. I often told my mind. I told myself that he was going to go to a meeting any minute. Which this is quite Ngong-style. My husband had a drink in my mouth. This was it. I was going to the imaginative community from an early age from ahora. And you know what happened? At one point, my heart stopped. I thought for a second, I'm opening up. Youね people. I just went ahead and drank anyway. It didn't make any difference to me. The doctor said I had, some doctor at Veterans Hospital Houston said I had a bad hypothalamus. This is the gland up here in the middle of the brain. And he says when you get ready to drink, this thing just goes berserk and starts spinning around in there and just goes crazy. And this is what makes you drink. And he made it so if I would have a brain operation and have my hypothalamus removed, that I'd be able to drink like everybody else. And I was beginning to think I needed some kind of something. I needed some kind of operation. But I got to reading on about the hypothalamus, and I found out it also controlled appetite and sex. And at that time, I was not willing to go to any lengths to get sober. So I didn't get sober. But I read someplace that you could drink an ounce of alcohol an hour night and day for the rest of your life, and it would never harm you. And I said, man, where's this information been? This is just what I've been looking for. I'll drink an ounce each hour, and then I'll be wonderful for the rest of my life. And I went to the bar and ordered a drink. I finished it in 15 minutes. Forty-five minutes to go to the next drink. I said, well, what I'll do, I'll have the next. I always drink now, and when the next hour gets here, I won't have that drink. And I got drunk. Dr. Tim Terrace said I had bad adrenal glands. And he said if I would take adrenal cortex extract, this would fix up my adrenals, and I'd be able to drink like anybody else. And I went to the doctor, and I said, give me some of this adrenal cortex extract. And he said, it's going to be painful. It's a hard shot. And I said, no pain. It's too great to return to social drinking. And he gave me a large shot of this stuff in the rear end, and the only effect it had on my drinking was that I had to stand up when I drank. That's all. I've taken Gleerman and Typhopan as recommended by a chemistry professor at the University of Texas. I used to take so many of these things. I'd choke. I'd have to have some alcohol to get them down. And I guess I've tried everything that I've ever heard any drunk in Alcoholics Anonymous has ever tried, and none of it worked for me. I remember I went through antabuse one time, and that didn't work. But I tried everything I could think of to do something about my drinking. And I was a periodic drunk. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. I used to go around the streets of Texas City and the walk telling all my friends, Why don't you stop drinking? Why don't you do like I do? You feel better. You work better. Oh, it's great. Why don't you try it? I thought that I was able to help people with an alcohol problem. I had a lot of brain damage when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous, and I've always had these delusions, and I could just see myself up on a high mountain somewhere and there would be people coming down the side of this mountain, up the next rise and over the next hill, a veritable sea of humanity. And I would be standing there before them on the top of this mountain and I would arise and I would give them this message. Tired and weary, desperate and hopeless, want a new and better way of life? Oh, come unto me, all ye who labor and are heavy burdened, and I will give you rest. For thine yoke is heavy, while mine is light. Yea, and verily I say unto you, go, my children, and drink no more. I was a crazy son of a bitch when I got down there. I thought, come on. Every time I stopped drinking, I always left a reservation. I said, now this is absolutely, positively, without a doubt, I mean it this time, King's X and Tickalock all the way around, the last drink, never again. Unless maybe something comes up real bad later on that just makes it absolutely necessary. And you know something I always did. I tried AA without trying AA. I was campaigning for a judge there in Texas City years ago and I ran into an old time AA member, his name was Sam Harkins. And this guy was always asking me if I would like to go to an AA meeting. And I said, no, I don't want to go to an AA meeting. But this time he had a different approach. He said, Judge, we're having a conference over here in Texas City. We've got 500 alcoholics over there. Why don't you go over there, pass out your cards, and ask these people for their vote? Well, my God, I didn't think any of these kind of people voted, you know. But I wasn't willing to pass up any opportunity. And I went over and I said, my name is Ted Bishop. I'm running for judge. You people are doing fine work here. Keep up the fine work. Vote for me on election day. And I had a special campaign slogan for the ladies. I would tell them, ladies, before you go to bed, think of Ted. I lost that election. And Sam, this guy that told me to come to the conference, he said, why don't you come over to a meeting of the 518 group? And I said, well, maybe sometime I'll visit y'all. And at that time I was drinking with a millionaire in Texas City. And he was a bad drunk. My God, he was bad. He drank a lot worse. Everybody I drank with drank a lot worse than I did. And his wife wanted me to help him. Because I had told him that I had been staying sober using my various methods of sobriety. And so I went down to this 518 group. And I told Sam why I was there. I said, now, Sam, I want you to understand why I've come to your group meeting tonight. I said, I am. I'm a friend of mine who is a very wealthy businessman here in Texas City. And he was too ashamed to come down here. And I've taken time out from my busy schedule to come down here for him. Do you have any literature that I might take to him? And Sam gave me a big book. And I took it over to him. He wasn't there. I gave it to his wife. But I didn't give it to her. I sold it to her for $10. And. And I had to put the money in the plate later on. But he wouldn't. You know, I tried to give her the money back. But she says the book was well worth it. But it wasn't long after this that the millionaire came to see me. He had gotten into trouble with his drinking. And he wanted to do something about it. And I had been to these two meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous. I had been to this conference. And I had been to the meeting at 518. And there had been something there. And I tried to think of some way to get back to these meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous without anybody knowing that I might have a problem. Because here I am, a judge and a lawyer, high on the social register. And it would just ruin me to go to Alcoholics Anonymous. So I told Billy the Megan hour, I said, Billy, I think I've got a plan for you. I said, why don't you go to this Alcoholics Anonymous? I said, I've been to a couple of their meetings. And it's not as bad as you think. These people are all right. And I'll tell you what, in order to make it easier for you, I'll go along with you. And so that's the way I got started going to Alcoholics Anonymous. I not only wanted to find some way to stop drinking, but I wanted to sober this guy up so that he would be grateful. He was very respectful to me and give me his law business. Plus his wife told me that she would give me half of everything they had if I sobered him up. So I was going to a lot of AA meetings. As a matter of fact, I went to more AA meetings than Billy did. And, you know, it's a wonderful thing to go to AA. People say they didn't like to come to AA at first, a lot of people. But, you know, I just love to go to AA meetings. If you're going to AA, you're going to AA. And you're not really an alcoholic. You can walk around those things and you can just be superior as hell to everybody in there. And so I just loved to go down there to those things and parade around at those AA meetings. And sometimes I'd go down there and they'd call on me to talk. And I'd get up and I'd explain alcoholism to them. You know, I could see that they didn't understand it very well. And I'd explain it to them. First stage, second stage, third stage, everything that didn't have a thing in the world to do with recovery. Well, that's what I was telling them. Newcomers used to think I'd make great talks. They'd come up and shake my hands. The old timers, they'd just sit in the back of the room, you know. I figured they were jealous because I had gotten it all together so quickly and was putting it across so much better than any of them could. Sometimes they'd call on me to talk and I'd say, My name is Ted Bishop and I'm a lawyer. My law office is right down the street here, a couple of blocks. My law hours are 9 to 5. And I want you to know that I appreciate having an organization like this where a judge like myself can send people like you who need this kind of help. God bless you. And I'd sit down. I'd been coming to AA about four months and I got this big card in the mail. It was Snoopy. And Snoopy had Woodstock. All the little birds lined up in front of him. He had his aviator outfit on. And he was really laying it on these birds. And the caption on this thing said, If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit. And whoever sent it was not kind enough to sign it. And I kept on going to AA and people started looking at me funny and alcoholic snob. I could see that they were wondering what I was doing down there. This millionaire that I sent was doing alright. So why was I still coming? So I could see that I needed a little bit more cover. So what I did, I started sentencing people through Alcoholics Anonymous from my courtroom. And then that way you see, I had to go down there to see that all the people that I sent to AA came. And I had to go down there to see that the millionaire came. Everybody, people would come to me for DWI and, uh, and, uh, Instead of removing your license, I would give them the option of going to Alcoholics Anonymous. So everybody went to AA, came to my court. Well, there was one guy that didn't go. His wife filed on him for assault. And I said, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you an option. You can go to AA three times a week for 90 days. The guy told me, he says, Judge, I don't have any money. There's no way I can pay a fine. Absolutely impossible. I said, you can either go to AA or you can pay a $200 fine. And in five minutes, that guy had $200 sitting on my desk. That's one that I missed. But I would send these people to AA, and then I would go down, and I had a little black book that I carried. And I would go around the meeting, and I would check off the names of the people that I had sent to Alcoholics Anonymous. I would say, are you here? Are you here? If you don't make these meetings, I'm going to have to issue a warrant. So you're at rest. I had people jogging. I was selling vitamins to the drunks. I'd buy them for $5.50 and sell them to them for $11. Then I made a mistake. I went to a conference with Sam and his wife Celia. The loans saw a round. They were a roundup of 1974 in Dallas. And I thought that they were going to have me up there to talk about how us judges were sending people to Alcoholics Anonymous. And I went up there, and, you know, they didn't ask me anything. And I got to sitting around in that thing, and I really got tired of that. And about the second day, they were up in the room, and they were talking about this being a program of attraction rather than promotion. And I said, all right, what do we need? Is it a nationwide campaign of publicity? Put it on TV, radio. Let everybody know about AA. Let them know how us judges are sending people to Alcoholics Anonymous. Then everybody will come to AA. And Celia, this Al-Anon, Al-Anon me, she said, Judge, there's a lot of people in this room. She said, Judge, just what are you doing coming to Alcoholics Anonymous in the first place? Man, I didn't like that question. I said, well, I'm coming to see that Billy comes. And I'm coming to see that all these. All these peoples that I sent in the first place. Man, I didn't like that question. I said, well, I'm coming to see that Billy comes. And I'm coming to see that all these peoples that I sent to Alcoholics Anonymous come. And she says, I think you're coming to Alcoholics Anonymous because you are attracted here to Alcoholics Anonymous. And the reason that you are attracted here is because you are an alcoholic. Man, I had built. I had built that group up from nothing. I couldn't believe my ears after all I'd done for them. And I got out of there just as soon as I could. And I went back to my room. And I sweated some when I drank. But nothing like that night. Oh, the sweat just poured out of me. Fifteen minutes I was an alcoholic. Fifteen minutes I wasn't. Fifteen minutes I was an alcoholic. Fifteen minutes I wasn't. But the fact is, I was an alcoholic. But the thing that really tore me up was, I said, what if I go down there, pick up a chip, go on Alcoholics Anonymous, and then ten years later it turns out I'm not really an alcoholic, you know. That would be ten years completely gone out of my life. But I didn't have anything to do. I wasn't drinking. What difference does it make what you do in Alcoholics Anonymous if you're not drinking? Your life's over anyway. So I went down that Monday night. And we got back. And I picked up a chip. And I was quite sure that my life was over. And it was. Because life did not commence for me until I got to do Alcoholics Anonymous. And I was not enchanted with your beautiful poetry. I wasn't impressed with your cornball sign. And I didn't want to hear about God. I thought that you were the luckiest people in the world to have a wonderful fellow like me consent to join up with you. I was absolutely convinced that you needed me, but that I did not need you. I'll give you an idea about my attitude. Have you ever asked a doctor or a lawyer or a judge a question and just have them look at you like you weren't there? I used to sit on the bench like this. I had some half glasses that I wore. And they would bring people before me charged with some crime. Maybe some of you have been before a judge sometimes charged with some crime of some nature. You know what that means when a judge looks down on you like that? That means you are a dumb bastard. And I am Mr. Wonderful. And that was my attitude when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous. I was terrified that somebody was going to find out that I was an AA and ruin me. It used to scare me to death. I remember I was sitting there on a Friday night and some nurses came to an open meeting. And I sat there through the meeting praying that the chairman wouldn't call on me. And he didn't. And one of those nurses sometime after that meeting came up to me and she said, Judge, what in the world were you doing down there at that meeting? I said, I was sitting there. I said, I was sitting there. I said, I was sitting there. I said, I was sitting there. I said, oh, I'm kind of a spiritual advisor down there. They do good work. They do good work. But after associating with the people in Alcoholics Anonymous, it wasn't long before I was telling people that I was an AA. I remember I went over to a sergeant that I had known for years. And I said, Sergeant, did you know that I joined AA? And he got up and he shook my hand. He said, I sure am glad to hear that, Judge. And you know, I'd always been kind of a secret. I was a drinker. Everybody in Texas City, Lamarck, and half of Galveston knew that I was a drunk. But I didn't want one single soul in this world to know that I was trying to change my life. And, of course, I was trying to find out how AA worked so that I wouldn't have to do anything and tell all you dummies how it worked. And I used to go around AA all the time asking people, how does this thing work? I was at a meeting one time and this guy said, in order to stop drinking, it is first necessary that you stop drinking. Now, you know, I'd never heard that anywhere in my life. It hadn't been in any of those books I read. And I said, well, that's not right. In order to stop drinking, it is first necessary that you find out how not to drink. And after you find out how not to drink, then you can stop drinking. But to just stop drinking without knowing... knowing how won't work. And I went to this guy and I says, how does this thing work? How do you stop drinking? And he says, Ted, just don't take the first drink and you won't get drunk. And I said, well, that may be all right for you. I said, but how about us judges and lawyers? And he said, Ted, it works the same for everybody. You just don't take the first drink and you won't get drunk. Well, I could see that these old guys had forgotten what it was like. They didn't really understand how this thing worked themselves. That was obvious to me. So I took a leave of absence from Alcoholics Anonymous. And I got drunk. And I had to come crawling back to AA. And I have been brought here this morning to you at tremendous expense. And no little inconvenience to myself. In order to bring you back to AA. I'm going to use this spiritual message. And that is this. Don't take the first drink and you won't get drunk. I got to watching you drunks. And I could see that you had an amazing number of similarities. You were alike in an amazing number of ways. And I said, that's how they stay sober. They have similar characteristics. And so I made a list of these things. And I called them the BBB of AAA. That's the Bishop Big Book of the Association of Alcoholics Anonymous. And this is in the form of questions. My question is, you don't have to answer. My question is, if you understand them, why you may be one. Why is it an alcoholic always thinks that he's the most unusual, the most unique, and the most important person in all the world? Why is it an alcoholic says, leave me alone. Just leave me alone. But God just can't stand to be lonely. Why is it an alcoholic can't be shown anything? Any wife try to tell you husband, old drunk husband's word, turn on the road? Don't do that. Why is it an alcoholic can't take directions from anybody? Why is it an alcoholic always thinks that he's entitled to continuous and extra excitement? And if things get a little bit slow, he'll go look for the biggest pile he can find, the one that's going to stink the most, and he'll start stirring. You watch him. Why is it an alcoholic always thinks the other fellow hasn't got the least idea of what he's talking about? Why? Why is it that most alcoholics hate Christmas and get that queasy feeling every time they get a gift or a compliment? Why is it an alcoholic is never, never, never, never in this world satisfied? There is absolutely no way. Why is it an alcoholic keeps on making the same old mistakes time after time after time after time after time after time after time after time, after time, after time, after time, after time, after time, after time, after time. Why is it an alcoholic won't ask for help and hates even worse to accept it? Why is it an alcoholic always hates drunks, but always manages to get drunk himself? Why is it an alcoholic must always have everything his way, right down to the smallest, most teeny-weeny, infinitesimal detail? Why is it an alcoholic hates to stand in line or wait for anything? Why is it an alcoholic just sits around waiting for something bad to happen? Man, I know it's going to be bad. When's it going to be here? It's coming, I know. I know. It's going to be bad, too. Why is an alcoholic always fine? You ever see him? How you doing, Bill? Just fine. Fine. How you doing, Joe? Fine. Just fine. He's dying and he's just fine. You know, I heard one of these drunks' funerals and they got the casket open and you walk by and you stick your head down there. I'm afraid he's going to sit up and say, I'm fine. Did you ever get that feeling? I'm afraid he's going to sit up and say, I'm fine. And why is it that no matter what you say to an alcoholic, no matter what you do to an alcoholic, it is inevitable that he is going to drink again unless a miracle occurs in his life? I took your inventory, you see. Wasn't any need to take mine. I wasn't really an alcoholic. Now, I might have been a textbook alcoholic or I might have been a technical alcoholic or I might have been slightly alcoholic or just about alcoholic or almost alcoholic or merely alcoholic or barely alcoholic. But on the verge of being an alcoholic or if I kept on drinking, I was going to be an alcoholic. But I wasn't really an alcoholic. Not really. And if you're not really an alcoholic, then you're not. I wasn't really an alcoholic. Not really. Even if I was, I was a lot better one than you were. I was different. There's no one on the face of the earth who can understand what I'm talking about. Police stopped me. They didn't put me in jail. They took me home and put me to bed. I'd get up about three o'clock in the morning one day. I went down to Lamar Jail and they had an old dentist in there. He came to AA later. They said, Judge, what do you want to do with this old drunk dentist? I said, leave him in there. He's a bad drunk. Now, I'd go out to my car and I'd get a pint from under my seat and I'd take a drink. But you can see the difference, can't you? He was in jail and I was out. He paid a fine and I collected it. I was different. Well, some of the people in AA started noticing my attitude and they started giving me things to do in alcoholic synonymous. Well, I didn't have anything to do. I wasn't drinking. And before I knew it, I was going to these old AA dances and I didn't even dance when I was drunk. And I was going to all these things and sitting around these floors. And I was going to all these things. Every time somebody got sick in the group, I had to visit them at the hospital. I never went to the hospital to visit anybody unless I could slip a pint to my buddy right under the doctor's nose. But I had to go visit all these people that were sick in our group. Every time somebody died in our group, I had to go to the funeral. I never went to funerals unless I had a pint hit out somewhere. The guy is dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He don't know whether you're at his funeral or not. I had to go to all these funerals. But the thing that they made me do that really tore me up was they used to take me in. We'd go around to all the homes of the people in the group and we would sit there and we would visit. You know, just chit-chat. God, it used to drive me up the wall. I'd say, they must have thought I was a weatherman or something. I'd come in and they'd say, do you think it's going to rain? How much was your electric bill this month? I'd say, my little girl Alice started kindergarten this morning and I'd think to myself, the hell she did. They'd say, well, you like to see our children's pictures and their children's pictures and their grandchildren's children's pictures? And, oh, hell yeah, let me see them all. I was really with it. I was really with it. Margaret has a boy. It's her son. Every time I ran for office, this picture was on the front page of the local paper in handcuffs. Judge's son. Picked up in local drug raids. Oh, man, I really resented that boy. Nut farms, penitentiaries, drying out places, hospitals, halfway houses, quarter houses, over and over and over. And when I came to A.A., my wife came to Al-Anon. She brought the wife of the millionaire to Al-Anon. So she has been in Al-Anon as long as I've been in A.A. And finally, we got a report on this boy from a county psychiatrist who said that his brain had been so badly damaged by the use of drugs that he would never function as a human being. And it was through my wife's training in Al-Anon, really, because, you know, I would have been willing to do it anyway. But, but, but, when we got this report, we put this boy out on the streets. And two years later, he sobered up in alcoholic snoring. And he has had various periods of sobriety. And he now has five, six, six years of sobriety. He founded the N.A. Group in Texas City. And we're real proud of his sobriety. Uh, And this boy whose brain would never function now has a job as an operator at Amoco Chemicals. He's making more money than I do, and I still resent the hell out of him. So we're all grateful for his sobriety. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, I'm still looking for this answer in Alcoholics Anonymous. And I got all brain damaged when I came to here. I guess you gathered that. And we were in the 24-Hour Club one night up in Houston. We were sitting there, and I was with the CEO. And I said, look, look, there it is, the answer that I've been looking for in Alcoholics Anonymous. It was right in the middle of the meeting. See, you pulled me down by the seat of the bench. She said, sit down, you crazy thing. You're disrupting the meeting. And I said, look, there it is. It's the answer I've been looking for. You know what it was? It was this sign that says, think, think, think. I got to looking at that thing, and I got to meditating on it, and I got to thinking about it. And I got to thinking about it some more. And I swear, I didn't know whether I was supposed to have a little thing and then a great big thing, and another little thing, or whether I was supposed to have a big thing in the middle and two outside little things. And I got to thinking about that thing, and I could not think what the hell it was I was thinking about. Yeah, that sign almost got me drunk. I've been coming here about four months when I picked up the chip. And the night I picked up the chip was this millionaire asked me to be his sponsor. How about that? Moving right along in AA, eh? I was an alcoholic five minutes, and I'm sponsoring somebody with four months of sobriety. And I proceeded to explain the program of Alcoholics Anonymous to him. It was a brief discussion. And after four months, he took a 12-gauge shotgun, he went home, and he blew the top of his head off. And the people, they called me, and they told me what had happened. And you know what I thought? I said, how could this guy do this to me after all I've done for him? What are people going to think of me now? I couldn't say. The resentment and fear. Every time I try to play God, it happens. And I was walking along, I had a funeral the next day, and I was an honorary pallbearer. I didn't even know what. I didn't know what an honorary pallbearer was. And I was walking along behind that casket, and I guess everybody saw me as an honorary pallbearer. But I saw myself as a pretender, as a liar, and as a chief. And I went to an AA meeting that night. And for the first time in my life that I remember, I felt something. These people were concerned that Billy's death was going to get me drunk. I felt. I felt that. And I honestly do not remember ever having any feeling at all. That's the first time that I have in my recorded memory of a feeling. And I was grateful to them. And I can never remember being grateful to anybody for anything. And really, I guess it was at that time that I committed myself to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. And while I committed myself to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, I mean, when I committed myself to Alcoholics Anonymous, but I didn't commit myself to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. I'll tell you what happened. I was a judge, and I was a lawyer who smart-alecked his way into Alcoholics Anonymous. I came to AA to observe you. I came to AA to observe you. And to see if perhaps you could benefit from my higher education. And I started sending people to Alcoholics Anonymous from my courtroom. And then I would run down to the local group, and I would sponsor the people that I had sent to AA. And you know, AA was a magical thing for me at first. And that magic lasted. It lasted for a long time for me in Alcoholics Anonymous. It was based on excitement, and it was based on activity, and it was based on being important. I would sentence the people of AA, go down and sponsor them. I would gather these people up, and I would take them all around to these meetings in the South. My Buick. I would walk into meetings, and you've seen me at AA meetings. I would walk into meetings. And I would have pigeons on the right. And I would have pigeons on the left. And they'd say, here he comes. There he is. I was helping others. I was attending AA meetings two and three times a day sometimes. And I wasn't drinking. And I kept this ship up. And I was doing this for five long years in Alcoholics Anonymous. And I'm grateful for it because I stayed sober. But about that period of time, something happened. I got a resentment against somebody in Alcoholics Anonymous. I didn't even know what it was. I'd never had a resentment before. And all of a sudden, I started developing all these fears. And I had never been afraid of anything. But I can recall. I was afraid to answer the phone. And I was afraid to go to the courtroom. And if you're a lawyer and you won't answer your phone, and you won't go to the courtroom, you've got a lot of problems. And after five years in AA, I was in worse shape than the day that I first showed up at the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous. I was completely terrified. I was afraid. I was terrified. And I had never had that feeling before. Alcohol all those years had kept that thing in check for me. And after I got into AA, the activity and the excitement took the place of that. So it finally got so bad that I had to do something. I took an inventory. And I can give you a very short rendition of my inventory, what it was. I had this terrible fear that I was unacceptable to other people, that I was an unlovable person. I remember I put down one of the first things I put down. I said, I'm resentful at my father because when I was very young, he told me that I was stupid, that I was dumb, that I had no common sense, that I would never amount to anything, et cetera, et cetera. And I went to my sponsor with this and I said, I don't understand this. What has this got to do with anything? And he said, well, Ted, you've already said that you think that what's your problem is that you have this fear that you're unacceptable to other people. He says, why do you think your father acted that way? Why do you think he did those things? And I said, I don't know. I guess he's sick. That's sick activity. Only a sick person would pull that kind of thing on a child. He said, well, that's true. That's true. He said, but why do you think he was doing that? He says, can't you see that the reason that he was telling you these things was so that he thought this was a way to try to get you to do better so that he in turn would look better and that he had the same fear that you did, that he was afraid, that he was an unlovable person, and unacceptable to other people. And I said, well, that may be true. I said, well, how about over here on this other page where it says I'm supposed to point out where I'm mistaken, where I'm selfish, and so forth. I said, how could I be mistaken in a situation like this? I said, he's the one that pulled all this stuff on me. I said, this is sick stuff. And he said, well, Ted, where you made your mistake was he said, you kept believing that stuff all these years. And you see, just because people say something doesn't make it true. And in Alcoholics Anonymous, for the first time, we are given a choice. To ignore bullshit. I'm sorry for the bluntness, but I don't know any other way to put it. For the first time, we can ignore and put to rest all these things that have been bothering us during our lifetime. And you see, money was important to me, yes. I liked it. I liked big homes, and I liked all that thing. And I liked what money could do. But even more important to me was that people would say that since he has those things, that means he's all right. That he's an acceptable person. I used sex in the same way. I always thought that you went after sex just for sex. See, but that wasn't true. All I had to do was go home. See, but if I could convince some gal and talk her into that kind of situation, then I could infer from that that I was at least as good as her husband or her boyfriend, and maybe even better. See, I had to draw inferences of worth from my manipulation of other people. And that will make you a very miserable, miserable person. And as I commenced on with the program, I could see that the thing that we were really interested in was not what we had done. Hey, man, if I've got to erase the beads, I'm sorry. If I erase the beads, I'm dead. See, there's nothing I can do about what I've done in the past. You see, there is no way in God's world I can unscrew my neighbor's wife. I really can't. It just can't be done. What can I do? I can change the reasons that made those things necessary. And I can change the reasons that made those things necessary. And how do I do that? Through the program of Alcoholics Enough. And through the steps. I, who for so long laughed about the steps of Alcoholics Enough. And I discovered probably a prime defect of character. I call it clinging. I like to cling to my old ideas. I like to cling to my old concepts of God. I like to cling to my old attitudes. I like to cling to people. But you see, anything that you cling to becomes an idol. There's nothing to cling to. There is nothing to cling to. It's like people jumping off, stepping off the Grand Canyon. Three or four of them step off and they're all grabbing for each other trying to cling to something. See, I had to be willing to try to stop clinging to my old ideas. To my past. To my old beliefs. To my old ideas. Because without growth and Alcoholics Enough, I'm dead. And if I'm going to cling to my old ways, there's no way I can grow. And it has not been easy for me. Anyone who does not have a feeling for five years in Alcoholics Enough, and Alcoholics Anonymous, it's buried just above. And I have to go through actions and actions and actions before I can feel emotions. So it's been a long, hard stretch for me. But I'm grateful for the ride. And I'm grateful for you people in Alcoholics Anonymous who have helped me so much. And who have helped my wife so much. And who have helped us become a husband and wife again. I appreciate that. I'm grateful to you. I thank you. I saw a statue one time. It was a good looking statue. It looked just like me. There was a guy, Hercules or Atlas or somebody. And he was holding the whole world over his shoulder just like that. And man, he looked powerful. Those muscles just shone. And he was holding that thing up. And I kept looking back at him, seeing that he had his slips on. I looked back at him. He's still standing there just like that, holding that world up. And that's the way I was when I came to AA. And I walked in. They said, You have any problems? Any defects of character? And I said, No, not me. Look at me. Don't I look there? And I walked out of AA. And I come back. They said, You got any problems? Any defects of character? And I said, No. Do you have any literature? Just slip it over in the pocket. And I finally got into AA. And I started doing some of these things that I knew wasn't going to work, that I didn't want to do, and that I would almost give my life for I didn't have to do. And I started doing some of these things. And I had to put one of these hands down to start doing some of these things. And man, that thing really got to be loaded. And it really got to be heavy. And I had to put one of these hands down to start doing some of these things. And finally, I had to just throw this down. And I said, Here, God, you take this thing. I was just playing like it was mine. I had to give up. And I had to let go. Thank you a lot, and good luck to you on the way back.