If You’re Right About Everything You’re in a Hell of a Lot of Trouble – Keith L.

last night, and we spent a few hours together, and the best thing I can tell you about him, I think he's a very nice, warm, and friendly individual. For that, I'll give you Keith L. Carolina, North Carolina. Thank you. My name's Keith. I'm an alcoholic. Hi. It's really a pleasure to be here. It's been a wonderful conference. I want to thank the committee and Larry very much for inviting me. I've heard about this conference. I've had friends who have been to it and had the best things to say, and it's just been terrific. The weather, the food, everything. It's just been wonderful. And if you're kind of new, if this is your first conference here, you might wonder about these pictures around the room, and they're all former speakers at this conference. And if you come back next year, you'll see me and Bob and Betty. I was really touched. I don't know if you recognize me. I don't know if you recognize me. I don't know if you recognize me. I don't recognize me. I don't know if you recognize me. I don't know if you recognize me. I don't know if you recognize me. I don't know if you recognize me. I don't know if you recognize me. But this is Larry when he was in the Army. I bring you greetings from the Carolina Curie Beach group. That's my home group. And they're meeting right now. And when I go back, we also meet on Wednesday nights. So when I go Wednesday nights, they'll want to know where I am, even though they know where I am. And they'll give me a bad time about being away. So I had to take them this tape to prove I was here. They're a hard bunch. I see some old friends, Will and Sherry, who I've known for many, many years. They're from Michigan. And they're here. And it's just great to see them. And I also bring you greetings from a man who was here four or five years ago, I guess, Bob Brown. And Bob has really talked a lot about this conference. And he always keeps that big book on his nightstand that you gave him. Bob is very, very ill and may not be with us much more in a few days or maybe a few weeks. And I was up to see him this past week. And he's a dear, dear friend of mine. And so I wish him the very best in his next efforts. If you're kind of new to this, what I'm supposed to do is share a little bit about what I was like and what happened to me and what I'm like now. And then in the second and third hour, I'll talk about the steps and the traditions and things. And you can tell from my accent, I'm not from North Carolina originally. I'm still working on my accent. In order to stay, I had to marry a North Carolina woman. They only give you so many years. And if you don't marry somebody from down there, they make you leave. And if I left, I'd have to go back to Ohio. So hell, I got married. I figured. I grew up in a small town and in a rather small family. I only have 10 brothers and sisters, unlike Larry, who has 13. And in a town called Martins Ferry, Ohio. And if you haven't been there, I wouldn't bother. Now, it was a wonderful place to grow up. And I grew up in a wonderful family. But I didn't know that then. And, you know, one of the first things I discovered after coming to Alcoholics Anonymous was, I think, maybe the most important lesson that I'd ever been given. And I wish I'd have been given it a lot sooner than I got it. But thank God I did get it. And I'll tell you the lesson. I was running to meetings. And I was one of these people who was running to meetings. And I agree. That many people just absolutely fell in love with Alcoholics Anonymous somewhere in about the third week. And it's a love affair that still goes on. And, but I was running to every meeting I could get to. And I guess I went to 500 meetings a year. The first couple of years I was sober. And, you know, I used to run to Oldtimers, which was a big mistake, you know, but. And it always gave you this weird stuff to do that has nothing to do with the problem. It's the funniest thing. It's like there's something wrong with our heads, you It's like there's too much coffee or smoke or something, and they don't think well. And I went to this man, an old-timer, with a big problem. And you know what he told me to do? He told me to borrow some lipstick from one of the girls in the program and to go home and write on the mirror, Keith, you were wrong. And I said, I can't do that. You see, my problem is I have a poor self-image. Don't ever talk that way to an old-timer. They hadn't read any of those books. They don't know anything about that stuff. And so he told me, I said, okay. So I went and bought a tube of lipstick. I didn't want to owe anything to anybody, especially a woman. So I went and bought a tube of lipstick, and I went home, and I wrote on the mirror, Keith, you were wrong. And I threw it in the trash can in utter disgust. And that was over about 45 days. Remember 45 days? And it was a normal night. I mean, I lay down to go to sleep, and for the first time that day, my mind woke up. And it would take off. It was making up for lost time. And it would talk to me. It would say things like, you're never going to make it. They're going to find out you're not really an alcoholic. What you are is crazy. And they're not going to let you come back to meetings anymore. And you're going to be alone the rest of your life. What difference does it make? You're impotent. And, you know, tomorrow they're going to find out you don't know how to do your job, and they're going to fire you. So what? You're hopelessly in debt. And it was just a normal night. Remember that? And then somewhere around 3.30, 4 o'clock in the morning, I'd drift into sleep. And then the leg cramps would set in. And I'd be standing beside my bed, jumping up and down, not knowing how I got there with my leg cramps. And then about 15 minutes before I was supposed to get up and go to work, I'd fall sound asleep. You know? And it would take three alarm clocks to wake me up. And the minute I opened my eyes, I was instantly depressed. It's like depression was waiting for me. And my mind was still going. And I got up, and I went in the kitchen, and I started making coffee. And I just wanted to cry. I felt so bad. And I said, you know, this is... This is awful. And life isn't worth living. And I went in the bathroom. I looked out a mirror. I said, Keith, you're wrong. I said, well, thank God. Because if you're right, you're in a hell of a lot of trouble. And so I want to tell you that the most important thing I've ever learned in Alcoholics Anonymous is that I've been wrong. And the more things I can be wrong about, the happier my life is. And that's the way it was. You know, I grew up in this family. We were Irish. I won't tell you what church we went to. But I'll give you a hint. It had something to do with bingo. But I'm not going to... Say any more. And I was... And what I mostly was, was afraid. I just... I don't know why. I mean, I just was afraid. I've never figured that out to this day. And I don't much care. I know one of the reasons why I had something that lived under my bed. And it was there when the lights were out. And it moved around. You could hear it down there. And I knew what it was there for. I didn't even have to ask. You know, there's some things you intuitively know. And I knew it was waiting for me to dangle my little legs over the side of the bed. And it has history. And I knew that. And, you know, I knew a few other things, too. I knew that in the daytime, it was in the closet. And so I used to get my clothes out in the dark. And my parents thought I was colorblind. And then there was that night when, you know, once you got in bed, you stayed there. You know, where that thing was there. But, you know, it was that night you had too much Kool-Aid, you know. And, you know, you've got a big decision to make. You're four years old, and I'm making big decisions already. And, you know, it was sort of like, do I wet the bed and listen to all that grief in the morning? Or do I take a chance on just disappearing from the face of the earth? And, you know, most four-year-old kids don't have to make decisions like that. So I remember one night I couldn't stand it. So I ran down the bed, and I leaped out as far as I could. And I landed with a resounding thud. And the whole house woke up. And my parents came in and said, dear Lord, what happened? Are you all right? And, you know, I said, I'm fine. And they said, I'm fine. And I said, I'm fine. And they said, I'm fine. And they said, I'm fine. And I couldn't tell them that I was leaping out into the darkness because of that thing under the bed. The other thing that happened to me early on was I drank for the first time. I think it's important. If you're going to be an alcoholic, it's important to drink for the first time. And it happened to me. I was five years old, and I was home. I didn't go out much when I was five. And my father was watching us. And Mom was either at the bingo or having a baby or something. And I guess he thought it'd be kind of cute. And it was me and I have a dumb brother named Denny. Denny's a year younger than I am. And we were sitting at the kitchen table playing games like bug or something. And I guess Dad thought it'd be cute. And he had a few beers in the refrigerator. There was rarely alcohol around our house because my parents have parents who drank like I did. But there were some beers in the refrigerator, probably Iron City. I don't know. And it would serve me right. And... And Dad just got them out and gave them to us. And he had a beer, and I had a beer, and dumb Denny had a beer. And, you know, nothing happened to me. But I looked over, and old Denny was sliding off the chair. And he was rolling around under the table. And he was singing Mary Had a Little Lamb and other drinking songs, you know. And Dad sort of panicked. And he wrestled old dumb Denny to the ground. And he put his jammies on him, you know, the kind with the feet and the trapdoor and stuff. And he took them up and put them in his little bed. And he said to me, Now, son, get ready for bed. I said, OK, Dad. And he said, don't tell your mother about this, and I'll take you to the movies next week. And I thought, well, that's the best deal. You know, when you're five, people don't negotiate much with you. And I thought that'd be nice. So I went upstairs, and I got in bed. But old Denny, we shared a room. Hell, everybody shared a room in my family. But we were sharing a room. And Denny was laughing and carrying on and singing and having the best time. And I'll never forget this as long as I live. Old Denny stood up in his little bed, and he urinated on the floor. And, you know, I remember thinking, you know, there's a kid who's powerless over alcohol and whose life has become unmanageable. That's the strangest thing. It just never happened for Denny. We're not very proud of this, but it is an honest program, so I'll tell you what happened to Denny. He grew up, and, well, he went to one college, Ohio University, and he had one major, and he graduated in four years, if you can believe that. And he went to one graduate school and graduated on time. And he had about eight job offers, and he took one. And he's now a vice president in a large international corporation. And, you know, the strangest thing of all is he married one woman. Now, here's a guy who had the world in the palm of his hand when he was four years old. And he just let it slip through his fingers. He just... You know. And I had to work at this thing, you know. I was 23 years old before I urinated on the bedroom floor for the first time. This thing came hard for me. And like Larry, I loved Larry's talk last night. We have a lot in common. And like Larry, I discovered that, you know, I tried to be good. I really did. I mean, I really thought that the way to get along in life was to be good. So I did all the right things, you know. And it didn't seem to be working. And I discovered I could get a lot more attention by going the other route. And... But I just wasn't good at that either. It was just awful. We aren't... About five of us guys hung around in high school together. And we were all poor, so we couldn't buy black leather jackets. We got black nylon jackets. We acted like they were leather. And I remember one day before class, we used to hang around this little store. And we'd buy our cigarettes and things there. And we stole a watermelon. And we went over and ate it. And before the day... The day it was over, all of us snuck back and paid for it. And so I wasn't very good at being bad, but I was good at being mischievous. And I went to this little Catholic school. Slipped out. And we used to... My wife and I stopped back there a few years ago. And it was really interesting. It's such a tiny little place. Probably the most students we ever had at one time are maybe 500 in four years. And it had a little library in it. And I always think about that library, because I met one of my great friends there. The nun who took care of the library was named Sister Victoria. And Sister Victoria is one of these strange people that you run into often, sort of obnoxious type, who would run around and be happy. And she'd say dumb things like, every boy's a prince and every girl's a princess because we have a father who's a king. So we'd get behind her back. And she'd say... We'd call each other Princess Mary and Prince Keith and make fun of the old fool. And we used to serve detention in the library. And I spent a lot of time with Sister Victoria, because I was in a lot of trouble. And she'd make us... We had to make rosary beads. That's those things that Catholics pray on. And there were five decades, 10 beads to a decade. And she'd put me behind a magazine rack. She said, I was a prince. I was contagious. And so... And I'd sit back there and make rosary beads. And I made hundreds of rosary beads, only mine were different. I made them with 11 beads in each decade. And by the time I graduated from high school, I had hundreds of mutant rosary beads all over the world. They'd send them to missions all over the world. And this stupid woman never caught on to what I was doing. So you can't let stuff like that go. So just before I graduated from high school... Just before I graduated, I went to her and I said, Sister, do you know what I've been doing the last few years? She said, yes, you sly little prince. She said, you've been making rosary beads with 11 beads in all the decades. And she said, I also know why you've been doing it. And I remember thinking, God, I hope she tells me, because I haven't the foggiest idea why I do these things. And she said, you've been doing it so that all over the world, people will pray extra prayers. I'm going to give you all the credit. Don't you just hate people like that? You know? And I somehow graduated from high school, and I escaped what I thought was a horrible existence. I thought that I grew up in poverty. And if you had ever run into me in a bar someplace, I would have sat there and just torn your heart out with the tales of our horrible poverty. We never had an automobile. We never had a television set and all that. But I'm glad that you have this. business. I just broke in your heart. The problem was I was wrong. I lived in a home with a mother who loved us very, very much. And to this day, if I let her, she'll give me a kiss and hug me and tell me that she loves me. She loved all of us. And she told us that every day. And every night, I would have told you my father never told me he loved me. I grew up with a father who was a true non-demonstrative man. But every day I'd let him, he spent time with me. And we went to the ball field and we played baseball. And he was a machinist and he made batting keys and things for us. And all winter, we would practice baseball in the basement and taught us to play checkers every day. And to this day, if you go to our house, he'll come wandering up the hall after you're in bed. And my wife gets the biggest kick out of this. He'll say, he'll knock on the door and I'll say, come in, stick his head in the door. And he'll say, got enough blankets? I don't care if it's August. He'll say, got enough blankets? I'll say, yes, dad. And he'll say, did you say your prayers? I'll say, yes, dad. But he never told me he loved me. And so I escaped. I took one of my very first inventories, you know, and never forget it. I took my shirt off and I stood in front of the mirror and I flexed my muscles. And I took a long, hard look at myself. And I was five feet, one inches tall, and I weighed 113 pounds. And whatever else I was, I was a born killer. So I went over to Wheeling and joined the Marine Corps. And I wasn't yet 18 years of age, so my parents had to sign for me. And I forgot to tell them what I was doing. And so the recruiter showed up with the papers and my mother just fell apart and she was crying and everything. But so I went home and they said, are you sure you want to do this? And I said, yes. And so they signed it. And all night, my mother cried and she said, Scott, they'll kill him. And my dad kept saying, don't worry, Pat, they won't take him. And the next day, we took a cab over to the bus stop, the bus station in Wheeling, West Virginia. And I got on a bus and went to Pittsburgh. It was the second longest trip I'd ever been on in my life, 60 miles. And it was a very bad year. And if you had a pulse, they took you. So that afternoon, I was sworn into the Marine Corps. And I was terrified. I knew nothing about the Marine Corps. And I didn't know you could ask. I really didn't know you could ask questions. And the only thing I knew about the Marine Corps was they took a certain number of people down to South Carolina and drowned them in a swamp. That's the only thing I knew. But they swore us in. And that night, I changed. My life changed dramatically. And if you're alcoholic, you know exactly what I mean. That's the night that I drank as much as I could for the very first time. I had a few drinks here and there, but no real drinking. But that night, we had eight hours before the train left. And we went to a bar in Pittsburgh. And I'll never forget the experience as long as I live. It was filled with real men, you know the kind. And they all had real women with them. Those are women who hang around with real men. And, you know, guys like me get what's left. And I followed these. There were three other guys who joined that day. And I didn't know them. They were from Pittsburgh. And I followed them into this bar. And they sat down. And the bartender came over. Here's a real man. And he said, what do you want? And I thought, oh, my God, a quiz. I just felt that way about life. I thought that when you least expected it, they were going to say, take out a blank sheet of paper and put your name in the upper left-hand corner. And they're going to ask you a lot of questions about life. I mean, I always felt like I was on the wrong page. And I didn't know what to say. So I looked at the other guys. And they said, we'll have a beer. And I said, me too. And the guy came back. He asked the same question. He gave the same answer. He came back the third time. I knew the answer. Because by then, the miracle had happened for me. And I stood up. I don't think I meant to stand up. But I just stood up, you know. And I looked down. And the floor was about six feet, four inches below me. And my right shoulder was out here. And my left shoulder was out there. And the muscles were rippling through my body, you know. And in that mind, it had been filled with fear and everything for 17 years, just like, boom, like a bolt of lightning. All of a sudden, it was crystal clear. And for the very first time in my life, I saw the big picture. For the first time in my life, I understood what it was to be a real man. I understood about God. I understood about politics. I understood about women. I understood everything for the first time in my life. I did not have a question. And then I looked up, and my heart just broke. Because this room was filled with a bunch of pathetic, sniveling little men. And all of them had women with them who were looking at me with those hungry eyes. You know how they do it. It was wonderful. And I went to take a step, and I sort of stumbled. And the guys with me said, what's the matter? I said, I don't know. But I think I just tripped over an invisible line. And I really believe that that's the moment I became alcoholic. Now, I got a lot sicker than that. But I don't believe I was ever any more alcoholic than that. Because that's the day that alcohol changed my whole perspective on life. And I spent the rest of my drinking time, the next 12 years, chasing that night in Pittsburgh. I tried to get back to Pittsburgh for 12 years. And I could never quite make it. I could make it to the suburbs. But I could never quite get to downtown Pittsburgh, where it all began. And that's it. And my alcoholism is no more dramatic than that. I spent 12 years trying to get back there. And I did it in different places. And a lot of people got hurt. And I got on a train that night, and I had a blackout. I woke up, and I said, I'm going to get back to Pittsburgh. And I said, I'm going to get back to Pittsburgh. And the next morning, I was laying on the floor of the Pullman coach that the Marine Corps had provided me with. And someone had wet the floor I was lying on. And whoever it was, they had wet me too. And I just, I got out and changed clothes. And again, I was 17 years old. And I was little, and I was frightened. And we're in Washington, D.C. And I met the guys outside the train. And I said, what are you going to do? I said, well, we thought we'd go over and have a few beers for breakfast. And I thought, well, what do I know? I'm from out of town. And I followed them over. And the same thing happened to me. And that night, I fell off a train in Yamasee, South Carolina. And somebody moved a bottom step or something. I never knew exactly what happened. But I fell across the next set of railroad tracks. And it was a very, very rude man that they had sent here to greet us. And he was hurling obscenities at myself and the other young men who had gone down there to die for their country. And I got up, and I tried to explain to this Cretan that he would probably get along a lot better if he treated us with a little respect. And he never quite grasped what it was I was trying to tell him. I guess it was limited. The only thing that I learned from that experience was you can do a lot of push-ups drunk. You really can. And you can do push-ups and throw-up at the same time. You can. Take my word for it. And so I was launched into the Marine Corps. And I loved the Marine Corps. I really did. To this day, I love the Marine Corps. I always figured next to the nuns, it was easy. And the barracks was less crowded. And I was able to do a lot of push-ups. And I was able to do a lot of push-ups. And the barracks was less crowded. And the home I grew up in. So I just loved it. And I took to it like a duck to water. You know, for the very first time, I understood what was expected. I never knew what was expected. And I didn't know that it's okay not to know. You know, it wasn't until I got to Alcoholics Anonymous, I found out you don't know what the hell's going on either. Nobody does. That's the fun of it all. I mean, if I knew what was expected all the time, if I knew what was going on, I wouldn't need faith. But I loved it. And I threw myself into it. And I was able to do a lot of push-ups. And I did very well. And I won awards. And I got all these meritorious promotions and things. And I worked hard to get a commission. And at the very last moment, I turned a commission down and I got out. Because I had begun to do things that concerned me. And I think that the best way for me to describe what happened to me in alcoholism was, I will fall in love with a way of life, be it the Marine Corps or marriage or whatever it might be. I'll fall in love with a way of life. And then I begin to violate virtually every principle associated with that way of life. And then at the very end, I'll run away and I'll blame that way of life for what happened to me. And that's the way I was in the Marine Corps. I loved it. I dearly loved it. And yet I began to do things. I began to drink on duty. I even led a combat patrol in a blackout. Unfortunately, nobody was killed. But I didn't remember going out. I remember coming back. And I had the lives of 12 other people. And what I did was I ended up blaming the Marine Corps for what was happening to me. And I got out. And then I got married and the same thing happened. And we had two beautiful little children. And we were absolutely convinced that if we could somehow load me up with enough responsibility, I'd act responsible. It's one of the great myths of alcoholism. And God knows I tried. Nobody ever tried harder than my wife and I did. We used to start over. Anybody ever start over? We'd start over. And the way you start I hope you don't drink again, but if you do and you want to start over, let me suggest our way. It worked very well for us. You take the children to grandmother's house. So we bring the children up, Kelly and Kimberly, up to my parents' place, and then we go back. We were living in Maryland at the time. And my wife would go out convinced that my problem was there wasn't enough or good enough sex. That was my problem. And she became convinced of that because I told her that. I was convinced that her problem was I had a tendency not to come home from work. You know, I'd mean to, but my car wouldn't make it somehow. And so we'd start over. And the way you start over is I'd come home from work, and she would put on one of those little negligees that she'd go out and buy, those really little things. And starting over was a lot of fun. And, you know, the first two or three days was terrific. And then on the fourth or fifth day, I'd be headed home, and I'd be thinking, you know, you're awfully selfish. All your friends down at the bar are pulling for you. And they're probably wondering how it's going. And so I'd stop down to fill them in on how starting over was going. And you know what happens to clocks in bars. I'd be there, and I'd look up, and all of a sudden it was 9 o'clock. And I thought, now, if you really care about her, you won't go home now. You know, because she'll be awake, and she'll cry, and she'll fight and everything. If you really care about her, you'll wait until she's asleep at 2 o'clock. So I really cared about her. So I'd drive home at 2 o'clock. But, you know, before I'd get home, I'd think, you know, it's really not fair. That woman's crazy about you. And she did buy those negligees and things. Give her a break. So I'd go in, and she didn't have one of those things on. She had this other thing on. She used to wear it. It sort of started up here around her neck, you know. And it went down to the floor, and it came out to the end of her arms, and it was brown. And it was real thick, like that curtain, you know. And it looked something like a... It looked like a buffalo robe. And basically what it meant was not tonight. That's basically what it meant. And I'm a pretty sensitive guy, and I was deeply hurt by this rejection. And so I did what any normal person would do. I tore the apartment up. I just began to scream, and I threw the furniture all over the place and everything. Just normal stuff. And my wife was seeing a psychiatrist, which explained why I drank the way I did. And she was taking pills, which made her eyes do... Funny things. One eye would look one way, and the other eye would look the other way. And she was running around, and she grabbed her purse, and she had a matching buffalo robe house coat. She grabbed it, and she ran out of the house. And I knew what she was going to do. She was going to go call this psychiatrist, who she was probably having an affair with. And they were trying to get rid of me. So they would... He would tell her to call the police. The police would come. You know, the routine. So I wasn't born yesterday. So... So I cleaned the place up. It looked great. I mean, I straightened everything up. I vacuumed everything. And I went in. I put on some pajamas. I always wore pajamas when the police came. I don't know why. But then the doorbell rang. And I went over, and I looked out. And my wife was there, wrapped up in a buffalo robe with two county policemen. It was a young fellow, about 21, and an old guy, about 30. And I pulled myself all together, and I pulled the door open. And I said, Thank God you found her. And they said, Sir, can we come in? I said, yes. I said, forgive me. I said, I'm beside myself with worry. And they came in, and they looked around. And the place looked pretty good, you know. And my wife looked around, and she got that horrible, I've been had again look, you know. And she just burst into tears and ran into the... Oh, I said to her, I said, did you call the doctor? And she said, yes. And I said, well, thank God. If you're going to run out of here in the middle of the night, at least you call the doctor. And she ran into the bedroom. She was in the bedroom crying. And the older policeman sort of reached out and hit me on the arm. And he said, you hang in there, son. And I said, yes, sir. And, you know, that's a really sad state of affair. But, you know, the saddest part of that was I went and fixed another drink. And I got her a glass of wine. And I went in, and she took another one of those pills. And she was drinking her wine, and tears were just dripping off her cheek. And she looked at me, and she said, can you ever forgive me for embarrassing you like that? You know. And, you know, we went to bed that night. And we were convinced that we were the luckiest couple in the world. We were convinced that we were absolutely in love. The sheer insanity of it all. And, you know, of course, something like that can't last long. And, well, you guys are really sick, you know. I'm just kidding. So, you know, the day came when, you know, I just couldn't be trusted in the same house with the kids. I mean, I was passing out. I was out with cigarettes and everything. And she asked me to leave. And that's what I had to do. I had to go there. And I had to go to, I ended up on Skid Row section of Washington, D.C. I was living on Harvard Street in downtown Washington, D.C. And after six months, I mean, one horrible situation. All the things that the structure of marriage kept from happening then happened. And I won't bore you with it. But suffice it to say that on May the 13th, 1973, I was living in a basement of a house. And I got up for what, and I went into what passed as a bathroom with one thought in mind, and that was to kill myself. I had a lot of pills. I worked in hospitals, as did my wife. And I had a lot of pills. And I never took them. And some of you think that's the saddest story you ever heard. But I just, I was afraid of them. And, but I went in to take them all at once. And the miracle happened for me. And the miracle was a woman's voice, very clear to me, told me not to do it. And immediately, I remembered it. And my wife had given me two phone numbers. And she said, I can't help you. Maybe these people can. I had no idea where the phone numbers were to. And I went in and I could only find one number and I called it. And it was a woman at a treatment center, a little treatment center. And like Larry said, I hear a lot of people stand up here and say bad things about treatment centers. But I must tell you, if the place weren't there, I don't think I'd be here. She knew exactly what to say to me. She was an alcoholic too. And I arranged to go there in a few days. I had no idea. What I would do there, I thought they'd keep me forever. I didn't ask any questions. It didn't matter. But what did matter was I hung up the phone and I looked and there was a fifth of scotch on a draining board. And I knew what I'd do with that fifth of scotch. So God gave me a wonderful gift that day. He let me know that left to my own devices, I would drink again. And knowing I would die from drinking would never keep me from drinking. And I ran over and I grabbed that bottle and I ran to the sink and I began to pour it out. And I knew I wouldn't. And I threw it in the sink. And it broke. And if it had bounced, I don't think I'd be here. Because you see, I'm powerless over alcohol. That's just it. You know, I haven't had a drink now in 21 and a half years or something. But the same thing is true. The same thing is true. If I drink, I'll die. And knowing I'll die will never keep me from taking a drink. I'll tell you the way I picture it. My last drink was May the 13th, 1973. That's a big day in our house. My wife, God bless her, is a cross-stitch person. You know those kinds, you know? Al-Anon is a cross-stitch. And back in the French Revolution, they used to knit. But now they just cross-stitch. And she cross-stitches everything. If you sit around long enough, she'll cross-stitch on you. And we have everything with May the 13th, 1973 on it. I mean everything. Bookmarks, everything. You know, it's a big day. But it's not the big day. And it's not the big drink. The big drink is the one I must take. You see, being alcoholic means I must drink again. Unless. There's a miracle. And that's where you come in. You're the miracle. There's a drink out ahead of me. And remember when you were brand new? It was only out there maybe about an hour or two. Remember? Five minutes. It was right out there. It was so close I could smell it and taste it. And then it gradually, though, as I went to meetings and as I spent time with you, it pushed it further and further and further ahead of me. And then one day it's out there like three months. And then I look around and I say, you know the problem with you, Keith, is you need some balance in your life. Balance is a euphemism for cutting back on meetings. And so I go seeking balance, which in my younger years meant sex. Now it means golf. But I begin to gain on that drink. And then pretty soon I'm irritable and I'm discontent. And people don't like being around me anymore. And finally my friends come over and they said to me, you know the problem with you is you're on a dry drunk. And I realize what I've done is I've been sneaking up on that drink. And by the grace of God, I haven't had to catch up with it. I like to do 12-step works. I go to a lot of hospitals and things. And I've 12-stepped a lot of people in hospitals. And they always say the same thing. I don't know what happened. But I know what happened. They caught up to the drink with their name on it. Because for some reason they weren't lucky like me. And what I've done is surround myself with people like you. You know, three days later after I convulsed and did all the things you do, I ended up in this little treatment center. And that day they took me to my very first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. And I'll never forget that day. It took me five hours to drive 30 miles because I had to run in fits. I had the horrors. And I would drive about a mile and I'd begin to shake and cry. And I wet my pants and all that. And I was 29 years old when my life was over. And that night they took me to a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. And I didn't want to go. But I didn't much care. You know, you get depressed. You get too depressed to do anything. And I was just depressed. And they took me to this meeting. And there was a man they called a greeter. And he stood at the door and he shook everybody's hand who came in. And sort of obnoxious guy. You know, the kind of look in the eyes like Sister Victoria used to do. And he said, you know, son, if you keep coming here, you never have to drink again. And I thought, what a strange thing to say. And then he brought me in and he sat me down next to a woman. It was the oldest woman who ever lived. Seriously. She was about 10 days older than dirt. And she got me a half a cup of coffee and she sat next to me and she patted me. And then she looked at me and smiled and said, you know, Sonny, you keep coming here. You never have to be alone again. And I began to cry. I didn't know that what I was was alone. But when I look back, I realize that that's exactly what it was. You know, I could lay in bed next to the woman I was married to and feel completely and utterly alone. And there would be nights when I'd get up. You know, the nights when you couldn't drink. I'd get up and I'd wander around and I'd go into the girls' room. And Kelly and Kimmy were a year and a year and a half old, or two years. And I'd touch their little heads and things. And I knew that something that nice couldn't be for me. So I knew what they meant by being alone. And I thought about it. And, you know, I grew up as a little kid with a horrible speech impediment. And so I knew about being alone. I remember when Sister Victoria and I talked that last time. And she told me something that frightened me. You know, she took both of my hands and looked in my eyes. And she said, you know, she said, the first time I met you, I knew you were a special child of God. And the day is going to come when you're going to go all over the world telling people how much God loves them. And it terrified me. And the reason it terrified me was because I was all alone. And so that's what I'd always been. And when I drank, I didn't feel quite as alone. But even that stopped. Because at the very end, it didn't even matter if I went out anymore. Because I'd be just as alone in a bar with 100 people as I was in my apartment. So most of the time, I just stayed in my apartment. And most of the time, I was pathetic. So when I got to you, I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. And everything I have, I have as a result of you. And it's an amazing life. I just can't tell you. It was crazy, though. I remember that first year. It was absolutely insane. I couldn't sleep. Now, if you're kind of new here, I'd like to warn you about old-timers. I think it's really important. Old-timers are not well people. You see people like Larry, and you'll hear Kay tomorrow and stuff like that. They mean well, but they're just not with us. They'll tell you to do strange things. And they'll say things. They'll say things like, you know, I come to meetings because I need to. That's not true. They don't need to come to meetings. I'll tell you why they come to meetings. The only enjoyment they get out of life. It's watching people like you and me suffer. It's the truth. It's the truth. And if you don't believe me, after the meeting, go up to them and tell them a problem you have. What's the first thing they do? They laugh, you know, and if you want to really make them happy, tell them a sexual problem. They love sexual problems. You know, I was sober for about 30 days, and I'd been sitting on this secret for a while. And that is that I was impotent, which will really put a crimp in your sex life. And so I finally screwed up the courage. I was desperate. So I went to talk to this old timer, and I told him I was impotent. Well, of course, he burst into laughter, you know. And he said, oh, he said, a lot of us had that problem. He said, it'll get better. I said, when? I thought it was important, you know. And he said, what, you got a full social calendar? Ha, ha, ha, you know, have a wonderful time with you, yeah. But, you know, the thing I like most about the old timers was they always knew what I was thinking. It's just an amazing phenomenon to me. You know, at that time, it says, it says that there will come a time when no human being will live. You know, at that time, it says, it says that there will come a time when no human being will live. You know, at that time, it says, it says that there will come a time when no human power will keep you from taking a drink. You know, at that time, it says, it says that there will come a time when no human being will keep you from taking a drink. And I was so guilty about my children. My children were going on three and going on four when I got sober. And I knew I'd ruined their lives. And that self-centered, you know, I was that important. But I just couldn't live with it. It was driving me absolutely insane. And so I went to a meeting. A guy named Harold led it, a young people's group in Washington, D.C. And we used to go to a place for ice cream and cake. And I went there, and I went through the motions. But it was like I could see everybody's lips moving, but I couldn't hear anything. I was just so into myself. And I got off the leave. And Harold was at another table. He said, you, he said, come on over here. He said, sit down. He said, I don't know you. He said, my name's Harold, and I'm an alcoholic. I said, hi. And he said, you look, you look like you're hurting. And I said, well, you know, I'm feeling kind of guilty. And I began to tell him about my children. And he said, I know how you feel. He said, you know, he said, my mama was dying. And he said, he said, she asked me to come the next morning. My brother. My brothers and sisters. And she said, but Harold, I don't want you drinking. If you're drinking, I don't want to see you. I don't want to go into eternity seeing my son drunk. And he said, I came the next morning. And he said, I was drunk. And he said, my brothers and sisters wouldn't let me go up and see mama. He said, so I called up at intensive care. And they took a phone over to her. And he said, mama, can I come and see you? And she said, no. She said, not if you're drunk. And he said, I sat down in the lobby while my brothers and sisters said goodbye to my mom. And she died. And I said, how could you live with that? And he said, God will use the worst you have for the best. And you know, I forgot about me. And I went home. And it must have been three months later. And I was in the hospital. And I was walking down the hall. And I said, Harold, there he was at the elevator. And we talked for a few minutes. And he got on the elevator. And he left. And the nurse came over to me and said, do you know Mr. So-and-so? And I said, oh, yeah, you mean Harold? She said, yeah. She said, you know, he's the greatest man we know. And I said, why is that? And she said, you know, whenever we have an old person up here who's alone and doesn't have anybody, Harold comes and helps him die. So the very worst thing will become your greatest gift. And that can only happen in a program that's based on spiritual principle. And so watch the old timers. I tell you, they'll weasel their way into your life. I know. They'll ruin everything you've got going right now. And be careful what you tell people. You like sponsors. Be very careful of sponsors. I had a guy. My first sponsor's name was Dan. And I never wanted Dan to think I had any problems, because I didn't think he had time to sponsor people with problems. And so one day, I got up and I got ready for work. And everything was fine. I was in my car. The only problem was I forgot where I worked. It's true. I couldn't remember where I worked. I couldn't remember how to get there. And I was driving around trying to look for a street that looked familiar. And finally, I couldn't stand it. And I stopped and I called him. I was terrified. And he had given me a card with a dime in his phone number, his home number, and his office number. And I called his office number. And I said, Dan, it's me, Keith. He said, Keith, how are you? I said, I'm fine. I was just wondering how you were. He said, well, I'm OK. He said, what's all that noise? I said, well, I'm calling you from my phone booth, Dan. And he said, your car break down? I said, no, car's fine. I said, I was just thinking about you and wondering how you were doing. He said, what's the matter, little buddy? I said, well, it's not much, Dan. I said, I just can't seem to remember where I work. And you know what he said to me? He said, oh, you got the old I can't remember where I work problem, huh? He said, a lot of us have had that. And the minute he said it, I knew. You know what I mean? I knew where I worked. I knew what I did. I mean, it was like all in one package. I just couldn't get a hold of it. And then he said, you know, he said, that's kind of scary. And I said, you know, it really is. And he said, don't let it worry you. He said, you know, it takes a while for our minds to come back. And he said, you're not crazy, and you're not losing your mind. He said, you're insane, but you're not crazy, and you're not losing your mind. And he said, I'd like to make a suggestion. I said, well, anything. I said, I'm honest, open-minded, and willing. He said, let me suggest to you that if you ever have this problem again, he said, if you can remember to look at the front bumper of your car, you have a parking permit. And I remember thinking, how do these people learn these things, you know? I mean, it's amazing to me, just amazing. He took me on my first 12-step call. I was at DC Jail. And you know, I've never been involved in an organization where if I just didn't drink, everything else was OK. He took me on this 12-step call, and I was all excited. I was with my sponsor. And we went to the DC Jail, and we went in there, and the guy's on the other side of the glass. And Dan's talking to him on the phone. And I couldn't hear the other guy, but I could hear Dan. And then Dan said, I brought a friend with me. He said, his name's Keith, and he's really doing well. He said, Keith's got almost. He's got almost three months of sobriety. He said, I'm going to let him talk to you for a couple of minutes. So I grabbed ahold of that phone, and I began to save this guy. I began to tell him about alcoholism, and about me, and everything. I was going on. He never got a chance to get a word in. Anyway, I said, fine. And he just went like that, and I stopped. And he said, you know, buddy, all this stuff's fine for you. He said, well, I'm a Fulbright scholar. And I said, well, Mr. Fulbright scholar, I said, one of us is going to leave here in a few minutes and go to dinner, and maybe have sex. I was lying, but, you know. I said, one of us is going to go back to a cell and get locked up like a, and Dan's trying to pull the phone out of my hand, and I'm screaming in his phone, you know, and the guards are running down and everything else, you know. So he got the phone away from me, told the guy goodbye. He said, I'll come back if you want me to. He hung up the phone, and we went outside. And I just knew that I was going to be fired, and I knew I was going to be kicked out of Alcoholics Anonymous. And so we were walking to the car. I didn't say anything. And finally, I said, it wasn't very good, was it, Dan? And he said, well, Keith, he said, most guys wouldn't have done it. Flip it over. He said, but you'll find in Alcoholics Anonymous, everybody has their own technique. And that's the last I heard about it, you know. You know, one of the things that I really remember about Dan was I had this horrible fear of heights, and I didn't tell anybody about it. And see, I didn't understand anything about how the spiritual principles worked. I really grew up in a church that taught me a lot of things. You know, it taught me a lot of things. And I'm so profoundly grateful. And I believe, because of my parents, because of the church I grew up in, I really believe that's why I'm alive. You know, I believe that that's why I had values that I couldn't violate. And violating values, clear values, is what got me to Alcoholics Anonymous. I know it did. But I couldn't stand the guilt of violating values. So I always thought that the way you dealt with guilt was, you know, I said to a guy, an old timer, you've got to be careful, I said to a guy, I said, what do I do about this guilt? He said, well, stop doing this stuff. You feel guilty about it. I said, is there another way? He said, no, there's not another way. But I had this fear of heights. And when I was in the Marine Corps, I tried to deal with this fear of heights. I knew the answer. I mean, I didn't ask anybody, but I knew. In order to deal with fear, you get brave. Simple. So I went down, and they used to post different schools and things. And they had jump school. I figured, well, I'll go to jump school. If you jump out of airplanes, you can't be afraid of heights. You overcome your fear. Well. Fortunately, I busted a kidney up a few months before overcoming another fear. And they wouldn't let me go to jump school. But I did go to mountain climbing school. So I spent three weeks in the Sierra Nevadas, rappelling off the sides of mountains in the middle of winter with my eyes closed. So I was more afraid of heights when I finished that than I was before I went out there. So I had so many blessings in my first year. It's unbelievable. But one of them was I was invited to study. I directed genetics laboratories at that time. And I was invited to study with probably the world's greatest psychologist. The man just died recently. His name was Jerome Lejeune, Professor Lejeune. And he was in Paris. And I was sober about 90 days when I got the invitation. And I knew that my sponsor wouldn't let me go. See, what sponsors do is they talk to the other old timers. And they find out what it is you most want to do. And then they don't let you do that. So I was not going to give him the satisfaction of telling me I couldn't do it. I was just going to turn him down. And then I thought for a minute. I said, well, I'll talk to him about it. So we went out to dinner. I picked up the tab. And I said to him, I wanted to show you this. And I showed him the letter. And he just beamed. He said, my god, isn't this wonderful? I said, you mean I can go? He said, well, not can you go. You have to go. He said, this is for Alcoholics Anonymous. He said, this is the success of Alcoholics Anonymous. He said, you owe it to the rest of us to go. And I said, I didn't think that you would let me go. And he said, Keith, you can go anywhere if you do it properly. And we spent the next three months getting me ready to go study in France. And it was an amazing thing. I had phone numbers. I wrote letters to people who were in AA who lived over there. And I went to a lot of meetings. And I did all those things. I did some step work. And I did all the things he told me to do. And January the 1st, 1974, I was walking the streets of Paris sober and overwhelmed with gratitude. And you know, about three weeks later, it just happened that Dan came through town. Now, what a coincidence that my sponsor would come through Paris, you know, and that I was there. And he came and he spent a week with me. And we did wonderful things. And he had traveled a lot. And he knew a lot of things. And he said to me, he said, tomorrow, we're going to take a train down to Chartres. And you're going to see the beautiful cathedral down there. So he took this train down. And I was just excited as I could be. And beautiful cathedral with the spirals are different. Different shapes built by alcoholics who lost the plans. And he said to me, he said, you know, we can go. There's a catwalk up there I know about. He said, we can go to the very top. And we can look out over the. And right away, my heart was in my throat. And I began to do what I always did. I began to try to be brave. But I was with you for six months. And I stopped. And I said, Dan, I'm afraid of heights. He said, oh, you got the old I'm afraid of heights problem. Mind you. He said, a lot of us have had that. And he said, you know, you don't need to go up there. He said, it's a beautiful cathedral if you don't go up there. He said, or you could go halfway. I'm thinking, there's a novel concept. He said, or you can go until you're afraid. And then you can take my hand. And that's the way we do it in Alcoholics Anonymous. And that's the way I've always done it. I've gone until I was afraid. Then I take your hand. And then you take me further. And we went clear to the top. And now I didn't lean over. I didn't dance around up there. And I didn't let go of Dan's hand. But damn it, I went up there. You know, I was wrong about a lot of things. I was one of those people who hated the police. And I know there are a few of us around here. It'll shock you, but it's true. And I couldn't sleep the first nine months I was in the program. Really, I couldn't. It was a terrible sleep problem. And I used to go to meetings. At the very end, they'd say, does anybody have anything they'd like to bring up? And I'd say, I can't sleep. And the old timers would take turns saying, nobody ever died from not sleeping. Don't talk that way to a crazy man who hadn't had any sleep. And one night, I jumped up and screamed, no, but people died from saying nobody ever died from not sleeping. So I used to ride around at night. I'd drive all around Washington. It's a beautiful place. I'd drive all around. And I drove down to the Jefferson Memorial one night. And I was just laying there. It was in August. And I was laying in the grass looking at the stars. And I fell asleep. I just fell asleep. And I woke up. I was just amazed. I said, you know, all this time, I thought I couldn't sleep. And here I'm trying to sleep at the wrong place. So I went home. And I got my sleeping bag. I came back. I laid it out on the grass. And I laid down and went right to sleep. About an hour later, somebody's kicking me. It's a park policeman. And he said, what are you doing here? I said, I'll tell you what I'm doing here. I told him my story. He said, no kidding. And he said, you haven't had a drink since May? I said, that's right, May the 13th. He said, well, that's wonderful. And he said, this is the only place you can sleep? I said, it's the only place I found I can sleep. And he said, well, I'll tell you what, buddy. He said, you ever need to sleep? He said, you come down here. You know, every few days when I thought I was going to go crazy from not sleeping, I'd take my sleeping bag to the Jefferson Memorial. I'd lay it out, you know? And I'd lay there and look at the stars. And then I'd hear, Keith, is that you? And I'd say, yeah. And he's a park policeman. He said, how many days? I said, 75 days. I said, isn't that wonderful? He said, you like some coffee? I said, no, I better get some rest. I have to go to work. You know, I was wrong about policemen. You know, one day it came time to make amends to dumb Denny. And at the time, Denny was living in New Jersey. And I was in Washington. And I got in the car, and I drove to New Jersey. And I told, we began to talk. And his wife, Jan, knew this was a different conversation. And she excused herself and went to bed. And I said, you know, Denny, I said, I've always envied you. I said, you seem to do life so well. I said, you have one of everything. And, uh. And I said, I've always been afraid. And I said, so what I've done is, anybody in the family who would listen to something negative about you, I'd say it. And I said, I stand ready to undo all of that. And he started to laugh. He said, well, if you owe me an amends, then I owe you an amends. He said, you know, all my life I've admired you, Keith. He said, I've always been afraid to change. And he said, you never gave a shit about anything. He said, if things weren't going well in one country, hell, you'd go to another country. He said. He said. He said, you got your degree out of Georgetown. He said, but you visited every university in the country before you did that. And he said, I've always wanted to live life just like you. And he said, but I've always been afraid. And I discovered that we aren't good or bad. We're just different. You know, that father who never told me he loved me, I went to make amends to him. And he was living at the little house I have down at the ocean where I live now with my lovely wife, Julia. And we began to talk, and he was rocking and puffing on his pipe. And he said to me, he said. He said, you know, son, he said, I'm glad we're having this talk. He said, remember when you went to work? And I said, well, yeah, I set pins at the bowling alley. And he said, yeah. He said, do you remember your first day at work? I said, well, I don't think so. And he said, I took you to lunch. We went to Louie's Hot Dog Stand. And he said, do you remember what you had for lunch? And I said, well, I guess I had a hot dog and an orange pop. He said, no. He said, you had a root beer. He said, I used to drink root beer, and I think you thought that men who work drank root beer. And I said, well, I guess I had a hot dog and an orange pop. He said, no. He said, you had a root beer. He said, I used to drink root beer, and I think you thought that men who work drank root beer. And he said, and I walked you down to the bus. And I said to you, I had to go to the next town. And I said, do you, son, you want me to come with you on your first day? He said, you were 12 years old. And he said, you were so little and frail. And he said, you said to me, no, thanks, Dad. I'll do it myself. And he said, you got on a bus. And he said, the bus drove away. And he said, I stood there until it was out of sight, and you never looked back. And he said, you said to me, no, thanks, Dad. I'll do it myself. And he said, you were 12 years old. And he said, you were so little and frail. And he said, you said to me, no, thanks, Dad. I'll do it myself. And he said, you got on a bus. And he said, you, the bus drove away. And he said, I stood there until it was out of sight, and you never looked back. And he said, from that day on, I never felt as though I ever had a right to tell you anything. And what the book says is true. People treated me the way I forced them to treat me. And I said to him, he said, you never came to me for any advice. He said, your brothers and sisters, you never came to me for any advice. And I said, you never came to me for any advice. And he said, you never came to me for any advice. And he said, your brothers and sisters let me help them through college and you did it on your own. And I said to him, Dad, I'm so sorry that I robbed you of the opportunity to father me. But you can do it now and he has. And when I have decisions, I've got hope. that I have to make, I go and sit with Dad. He's 83 years old now. And he's still the clearest thinking man I know. And the reason is because he's the most moral human being I've ever met. It's absolutely against his nature to take. All he knows how to do is to give. It's an amazing phenomenon. You know, one day when I least expected it, he said, Son, I really love you. I was an officer in a corporation and I didn't like what I was doing. I didn't feel like it was God's will for me. But it was a lot of money and a lot of prestige. And I went to see Dad and we sat down and he was puffing on his pipe and we both were rocking and I told him what was going on and he said to me, he said, You know, son, you've gone much further than I've ever gone in life. He said, But the one thing I know about you is you have to do what God thinks you're supposed to do or you think God wants you to do. He said, You'll never be happy any other way. And I said to him, You're wrong. You're wrong, Dad. I'll never go as far in life as you have. I said, I had to go find two million people to teach me what somehow you know intuitively and that is just to give and to love. I was wrong about my father. And I criticized that church I grew up in and it came time and I had that church and religious people on my eight-step list and I went and I found an old priest who was at a retreat center. I didn't want to talk to him. I wanted to talk to some young hotshot who would understand the deep significance of my humble acts. But I couldn't find him and so there was this old man sitting in there rocking and he was rocking back and forth and he was reading the Bible and I asked if I could talk to him and I sat in a rocking chair across from him and we both rocked and I told him why I was there and I began to tell him a little bit about what had happened to me and about Skid Row and everything and he stopped me and he put the Bible down and he got up and he pulled me up and he began to pat me and he began to cry. And he said, Stop, son. He said, Stop. He said, It isn't you who owe me an amen it's I who owe you one. He said, I've been a priest for 50 years and he said, I have a terminal illness and he said, Very soon I get to go home and to be with my higher power. And he said, I was just praying and I was just asking God, Where have I missed? Where have I failed you? And he said, It occurs to me that too many times in these 50 years I forgot what my higher power told me. He told me to leave the 99 that I was comfortable with and go out after the one that was lost. He said, Son, I'm sorry you had to be out there alone. And I discovered I was wrong about religious people. Religious people are people like you and me doing the best they can with what they have today. I made them something they weren't. So what I want to tell you is that I've been wrong. And I hope you're wrong too. If I can wish anything for you, I can wish that you've been wrong about everything. Because that means everything can change. You know, I was sober 90 days and this woman that I tormented and punished so and abused so came to me and she made me an offer I couldn't refuse or didn't think I could refuse. She said to me, I'd like you to come home and raise the children. She had a quote order to keep me from seeing them. She said, I'd like you to come home and raise the children and just live with me. She said, But I don't want you going to those meetings telling those people all of our secrets. And I said, Well, we don't... I don't tell them your secrets. They're right. I just talk about me. And she said, Well, I just don't want you going to those meetings. And I said, I have to go to those meetings. If I don't go to those meetings, I'll drink. And if I drink, I'll die. And she said, You have to choose between me and the kids or those people. And I thought for a second and the answer was so obvious, I couldn't believe it. I said, You know, my kids would be better off with a sober father they couldn't see than a drunken father they had to see. And I watched her turn around and walk out and I just knew my life was over. And of course it's not. My children and I are so close. We're just so close, it's unbelievable. And I was wrong about my ability to be a father. I can't tell you what being with you has meant to me. It's just my whole life. I was wrong about women. I was really angry with women when I got sober. I was short. I used to say I'd just been short recently, but that's a lie. I've always been short. And I... And I always felt a lot of rejection and things. And all of a sudden I was 30 years old or 31 years old and I was sober and because of my sponsor and budgets I was out of debt. And I began to be pretty popular in a town where there were 13 eligible women for every eligible man. I mean, you know, and I began dating and I began violating virtually every principle associated with relationships between men and women. And I didn't know what I was doing. I mean, people tried to point it out to me. And I... I'd blow them off. And, you know, some years later, after having been in one horrible... used serious relationship, I used to say, well, we both wanted it this way or this or that. But it was just where we just used each other. And, you know, unfulfilling and unsatisfying. And I was in Hope Mills at my friend Bob B's house, the gentleman who spoke here. And I just ended another one of those horrible relationships. And I... That night I couldn't sleep and I got out of bed and I got on my knees and I just asked God, I said, I said, you know, what's wrong? And I prayed all night. And I suddenly realized what had to happen for me. And I promised God that day. I said, I'm going to live a celibate life. I'm not going to use women anymore. And I'm just going to seek your will. And I didn't think I could do that. And then I remembered the big books that if you have sexual problems, work all the harder with others. And I prayed all night. And my friend Dick Corcoran, who passed away last year, was in the next room and he knew something was going on. We prayed together many, many times. And he was up all night praying too. And he said, I knew something was going on. I just didn't know what. And I told him that morning, I said, I'm not going to use women anymore. And, you know, that night I went to a meeting I didn't want to go to. And I met a woman who became my wife. But, you know, I knew that I knew nothing about how to do that. So I went to my sponsor, Tom, who is the best married man I know. And I said to Tom, I know nothing about how to treat women decently. Would you show me? And he said, yes. And he walked me through that relationship. You know, everything, every instinct I had was wrong. I said to him, I said, Julie and I think we're going to get married. And he said, well, but you're not engaged. I said, well, that's an old-fashioned idea. He said, Keith, it got to be that way for a reason. He said, now buy her a ring. And, you know, I didn't want to do that nonsense, but I bought her a ring. And one New Year's Eve, we're sitting in front of the fireplace and I had this, oh, I practiced this, you know, and had a ring in my pocket and everything. And the fire was going and we're getting ready to go to midnight mass, Christmas. And she said, well, we better get going. And before I could say anything, she jumped up and ran into the bathroom to check her face and I chased her in there. And I grabbed her hand and I put the ring on the wrong finger with the wrong hand and said, would you marry me? And she just fell into my arms in tears. And then I knew how much I wanted to be engaged. And, you know, being engaged is very, very different than having an exclusive relationship. And then we were engaged for a while and I said to Tom, I said, you know, Julia has an opportunity to transfer her job over. I said, I think that, you know, she can just live with me. And he said, wait a minute. He said, you worked so hard to make this relationship right. He said, living together is wrong for you. I said, yeah, but this time it's different. He said, no, no, no. He said, wait till you're married and then take your wife home. And, you know, that's what we did. And it's wonderful. We've been married five and a half years now. I'm more in love. I'm more in love now than I've ever been in my life. It's just spectacular. She called me this morning. She's the sweetest human being that I've ever been with. And let me tell you how it happened. It happened because I decided to make amends to the women that had been in my life. And I made the amends by promising God that I wasn't going to live the way I was living anymore. You know, Bill said it well in the big book. It's a philosophy that doesn't work well in the living. It may be happy. It may be modern. And it may be cool. But it didn't work for me. And I could never wrestle anything but dissatisfaction from living a lifestyle that is, for me, a violation of my spiritual principles. Somebody said to me one time, what's the greatest asset of being a sober man? And I said, it's because most of the time I can live up to the principles in my life. I can fall in love with the way of life now and I can get better at it. And in the old days, I'd fall in love with the way of life and I'd violate virtually every principle associated with it. Being an alcoholic is a horrible thing because it means that this time next year you'll hate yourself more than you do this time this year. Being a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous is a wonderful thing because it means this time next year you'll be more the person you want to be than you are this time this year. And that, to me, is living a successful life. I can't thank you enough for the privilege of coming here and being with you. Everything has just been spectacular from beginning to end. And God bless you. Thank you. On behalf of the committee and the people at the conference, I want to give you a big book to remember us by. Thank you. God bless you. Thank you. Is there anything further? Seeing nothing further, Keith, would you help us close with the Lord's Prayer? Our Father, Give us this day