The Thorazine Shuffle: How AA Taught Me to Walk, Talk, and Live. – Crickett R

Hi y'all. Hi. My name's Cricket and I'm an alcoholic. My sobriety date is October the 19th of 1969. I sobered up when I was 28 and I'm 56 so y'all don't have to try to figure it out. A lady asked me today, do you say yes ma'am to everybody? And I said, no ma'am, just to females. So I'd like to thank you for inviting me to be here with you. The room is wonderful and there was a neat little basket in there with all kinds of goodies and there was a lot of neat people I got to meet. The weather's been marvelous. You've added to my life and anytime you add to my life, you add to my soul and y'all can't help that. That's just the way this deal is. We either add to or we take from. That's what life is all about. That's what recovery is all about. That's what Alcoholics Anonymous is all about. We either add to or we take from. I'm supposed to tell in a general way and I'm going to. And I know I'm on a time limit because they already told me I couldn't talk more than an hour. What they don't know is I never do anyway. It did. It did. It didn't work. I'm getting stuck with a pen in a place I don't like getting stuck at. Felt yes, pen no. I like boys. I like grown men. You know, I love men. It's really unusual for me to be at an all-women's deal. I like men. I like the way they look. I like the way they smell. I just, I am a, I love men. I've had 12 husbands. Two of them were mine. I want to know something. I'm real glad the other two 10 weren't. I don't know why y'all wanted them to come home. But that's in a general way. All of my life, I never deserved anything on my own merit. Everything I ever got, I had to steal or take because there was something wrong with cricket. I was raised into a family that was, society kind of looked down on us. We were raised in a family that was kind of looked down on us. We were crop followers. My natural mother is full-blooded black Irish, extremely superstitious. She believes that one child in every family is born evil, one child is born possessed, and you determine that by the lightest weight at birth. I weighed two and a half pounds. I became evil and I became possessed. My natural father is full-blooded French man. He's hired 17 children. So I can tell you in all honesty, my full-blooded, my natural father may not have been an important man, but he was a very, very potent man. None of us knew him, and what he'd do is he'd just do it and he'd go on. My mother was very, very fortunate because she married a gentleman who agreed to take her and the five children that she had birthed, and we made our living following crops. All over the United States. And it was absolutely a wonderful way to live. I love picking crops. I love dirt. When I'm outside, I'm down. I don't want to stand up. I want to be down there where God started it all at. And God didn't start it all up here, my friends. He started it all down here. He didn't start it with 28 years. He started it with the lady with 10 days. Now, you end up, if you do what you're supposed to one day at a time, with 28 years, or 31 years, or 50 years. But it starts with that first day, that first desire not to take a drink. So when I'm outside, rain or snow or sunshine, I'm down. I'm down where I find my God at. Because I find my God not just in the hearts of you, but I find my God in dirt. And I love to pick up dirt. I love to touch dirt. It's clean for me. People were frightened of us, however. They thought we'd steal their children. We did steal their money. I didn't steal the tapes. I'm still tempted to steal. It's a lot more economical to steal than it is to pay for stuff. But I didn't steal the tapes. Maybe a year ago I would have. This time I didn't. And that's kind of a good feeling when she said that. She was so cute. I love the way people ask the thief to return stuff just in case she made a mistake. See, they used to do that to me in Alcoholics Anonymous because I stole their money all the time. Maybe you didn't know that money belonged to the group. Yes, I knew that money belonged to the group. But I needed it. So maybe whoever took those tapes needed them. And I hope in good conscience if you can't put them back yourself or give them back, just leave them on the table. And somebody will give them back to the taper. I had to find a place in life way, way, way, way, way back yonder. This is back in the early 40s. We've traveled a whole lot. Every time the picking season changed, we had to move. And every time we moved, we had to start a new school. And every time we started a new school, I didn't fit in. I was either the tallest girl in the classroom, or I was a girl in the classroom. I was the shortest girl in the classroom. I was too heavy. I was too thin. If my skin was different, if my hair were different, in my head, something about the outside of cricket was always wrong. And I felt like that's why you didn't allow your children to play with me. That's why people steered away from us. Today, I realize it's because of your fear that you didn't allow your children to come to our homes. And they were homeless. They weren't... People thought they were shacks. They thought they were shanties. But they were homes. We didn't have indoor water. We didn't have electricity. We didn't... You know, those are things we didn't have, but we still had a home. Such as it was. We went to church on a regular basis. We went twice a year. Every year. You know, I love it when I hear people talk, oh, they got so tired of going to church. So die. So die. Worn me out. Let me tell you what I heard the minister say as a little girl. He stood behind a podium and the gentleman said, anything I'd pray for in the name of Jesus I'd receive. That's what the gentleman said. And I believed him. And I believed him because he was clean, because he was a grown up, and because he stood behind a pulpit. He was a man of God. And I went home, and I remember running to a mirror and finding a place on my face that didn't have a zit because we didn't have the things necessary for proper physical hygiene. And I remember in my little girl innocence putting my finger on that place and saying, in the name of Jesus, when I wake up in the morning, make the rest of my face as clear as this spot. And I went to bed, and I woke up, and I really was excited because I knew that man hadn't lied. We had paid the price. We had sat and listened to him. So I knew he hadn't lied. And when I ran to the mirror, there was a zit right where I'd prayed. See, that told me Jesus didn't like me because that man wouldn't lie. When I work with people, a new female in Alcoholics Anonymous, I'm very, very careful what I tell her. Very, very careful that I give her not my message, the message out of the book of Alcoholics Anonymous. The message out of the book of Alcoholics Anonymous. I don't want to misrepresent recovery by accident or on purpose either way. I don't want to misrepresent what the Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous guarantees. And it guarantees us a way out on which we can absolutely rely. And it says we never have to drink again. And up to this point, that has held true for me. I quit school in about the fourth grade. We wound up in Denver, Colorado. At this point, two of my older brothers were career men. We had a house that had more rooms than two. And it had a kitchen. It had a kitchen with an old wood stove. And it had linoleum on the kitchen floor. And I was so excited. And I found a place in this house that I called my hiding place. It was a safe place. I could curl up behind that wood stove, and I fit just right. Nobody could get back there with me. And behind that wood stove, I would try to pretend the outside of cricket away. I would try to pretend. I would pretend that my hair was a different color, that my eyes were a different color, that my face wasn't repulsive, that my teeth weren't rotting out of my head. I would pretend, and I would pretend, and pretend. Because if the outside of cricket was okay, somehow or another, I'd be able to lie my head on a pillow at night and sleep. And not hear that thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. I wouldn't hear. I wouldn't wake up with my heart beating fast. Somehow or another, if I could pretend all of this away, inside of me, the storms would quit raging. Two of my older brothers by this time were professional men. They were armed robbers. And they created a place behind my stove where they hid their guns and they hid their money. Exchange for me not telling, I mean, they brought me a present. My family does not give gifts. And they brought me a brown paper sack and it had a little bottle of whiskey in it. And I'd never, to my knowledge, I don't remember drinking prior to that time. I mean, we had the toddies when we were babies to keep us shut up, you know. But this was delightful. I sit behind that wood stove. I was 12 years of age and I opened up that little bottle. And I turned it up to my lips and I started drinking. And hallelujah, it burned all the way down my throat. It burned all the way down my chest. That whiskey burned parts of my body I didn't know existed. And it burned all the way back up again. And I continued to drink until the whiskey bottle was empty. And an amazing thing happened. I quit pretending. I started doing whatever a young girl, had to do to get that next drink of alcohol. I went back before that God I'd heard about. And I said a prayer. And it went something to the effect of, Dear God, sir, my name's Cricket. And I don't believe in you. I don't believe in family-ness, sir. I don't believe in goodness or cleanliness. But just in case you are, this is my last prayer to you. Help me to never feel again. And, sir, I don't want any special favors. I don't even want to feel good. I left home and started living on the streets of Denver, doing whatever I had to do to take that next drink of alcohol. The state of Colorado interfered. Today they call it intervention. They interfered. They sent me to the state reform school in Morrison, Colorado, because they said I was incorrigible. I didn't know what it meant. I've been called a lot of things, like you. Most of them are pretty descriptive. Incorrigible kind of left a question mark. But to make me not be incorrigible, they sent me to this reform school, and it was absolutely beautiful. There was one person to a bed, and I had never had that experience. Two sheets on the bed. Everybody had a toothbrush, and I never had one. I really liked being punished. I liked being punished. Real good. I stayed there approximately a year, and I learned a whole lot of things I would need to know to survive back on the streets of Denver. I left the reform school after I became corrigible, which took a year, and I don't know what difference it made. And I went right back to the streets of Denver, doing whatever I had to do to get that next drink of alcohol. I stayed on the streets of Denver for the next three years. Once more, the state of Colorado interfered. They said that young girls do not live the lifestyle I was living. When I tell you that I know what it's like to be under a bridge, I truly do. I know what it's like to scrape maggots off of cantaloupe and eat out of a garbage barrel. Above and beyond that, my friends, let me tell you what. I know what it's like to be grateful for it, and that's not a bad deal. That is not a bad deal. I could not appreciate the banquet hall, and the way that it was made and how people have appreciate the banquet food we had tonight the way I do all the way down to the bottoms of my feet if I hadn't been hungry before in my life I could not appreciate it now I do not believe that everybody has to dig in a garbage barrel but I believe we've all known that kind of hunger that kind of hunger that goes way below our bellies all the way down both legs and no matter what we do we can't get it filled because of beyond that physical hunger there's a spiritual thing that's hollow and empty and you can't ever put enough of anything inside of there to fill it up this time when the state of Colorado interfered they sent me to the Colorado State Insane Asylum in Pueblo Colorado I was 16 years of age I knew a fear I've never known before nor since they did not recognize teenage alcoholism in the early 50s so they diagnosed me as schizophrenic with paranoid reaction with psychotic tendencies say what to make me not be those things they gave me 25 milligrams of Librium 10 milligrams of Valium and 50 milligrams of Thorazine four times a day now let me tell you the good news the desire to drink was removed Monday Wednesday and Friday the well educated people at the Colorado State Insane Asylum and it was not a hospital my friends it was in this state insane asylum laid me on a gurney put a big roll of gauze in my mouth put gooey stuff on the side of my temples and held me from my neck to my feet while the psychiatrist would reach his hand to an electrical lever and asked me if I was scared you know I sit there three times a week at the age of 16 and watched people's bodies go into massive convulsions. I saw them have to be medically resuscitated, and the idiot asked me if I was scared. Absolutely, but I couldn't answer. When I left the Colorado State Insane Asylum, I was a week prior to my 18th birthday, and I'm so grateful because they messed up on the paperwork. On my 18th birthday, they were going to do a state sanctioned sterilization, and I've got a 21-year-old daughter, and if they'd sterilized me, I wouldn't have had her. She just turned 20 in February. I'm sorry. She's the woman that I respect more than I've ever respected another woman in my life. She's a woman that can hold her head up high, and she's a woman that can stop her car on the side of the street and kneel down and share with those that don't have. Yeah. My daughter's a woman. She's not violated the law. She loves God, and she likes herself, and part of her liking herself is because she has never been deprived of what Alcoholics Anonymous had to give. I gave birth to her when I had eight years of continuous sobriety, and I was 37 years of age. Thank God, because I had something to offer to her. What the state took away from me, see, I weighed 300 pounds. I couldn't get out into the sunshine because of the Thorazine. The rest of my teeth were rotting out of my head, and I walked with what people call the Thorazine shuffle. I couldn't speak any longer. My head lolled to the side as if I'd had a stroke. I have brain damage, and it's in the speech area of my brain, and it tickles me because you all ask me to speech, to speak, and that's where I'm damaged at. So maybe something's wrong with your hearing. I don't know, and I don't really care, you know. I learned to speak again, and I've been back. My sponsor took me back when I had about 17 years of sobriety and had the psychiatrist, a psychiatrist in Fort Worth, retest me, and what he said is that I was socially retarded, because she thought I was just retarded. No, I'm just socially retarded. And I guess that means I don't do, I don't have a lot of, so I'm not sophisticated, and I don't need to be sophisticated. I don't need to be that to be whole. I'm whole. There's women that are prettier than me. There's women that are smarter than me. There's women that are dressed better and have more dignity than me, but there's no woman any better than me. And guess what? There's no woman any better than me. There's no woman that I'm any better than. You know, I'm just no better than. As I learned to re-walk and re-talk, I was on the streets of Denver when I left that state in St. Asylum. I'm not allowed to vote. I'm not allowed to serve on a jury. I have special permission to have a driver's license, but the government says I'm not responsible if I commit murder. Some people should be real great. I don't like everybody in Alcoholics Anonymous. You know, there's some people that aren't likable yet. And there's some people that have been sober a long time that aren't likable yet. And there's some people that make me feel small because they're so good. There's some people that make me feel little. And there's a big difference. I don't mind being small. I don't mind being small. Because when I'm small, I'm like the little bitty tiny bird. And, you know, God just loves little baby birds and he can pick up that baby eagle and he can hold it. God can hold that baby eagle and he can put it where it needs to go so it can soar some day. See, as a crop follower, there were all nationalities. The one person in my childhood other than one of my brothers that never hurt me was one of those old crop followers. And he was one of them. And he had skin the color of coal and it was shiny and glossy and beautiful and his teeth were so white and his hair was nappy and gray and he'd let me touch it and you know what he'd say to me someday, cricket, you're going to mount up with the wings of an eagle, you'll run and not be weary, you'll walk and not faint, but you've got to learn to wait. And I started waiting. And I waited for many, many years. I stayed on the streets of Denver from the time I left the state hospital, the streets of Denver, Kansas City, St. Joe, Los Angeles, wherever I could hitchhike to, doing anything I had to do to get that next drink of alcohol. I was back in Denver, Colorado a few months prior to my sobriety date. I was in a beer joint doing whatever I had to do to get that next drink of alcohol. that next drink of alcohol. I weighed 78 pounds. My hair hung down to my rear. Teeth were rotted out of my head. And I still could not live it out until I died. Because I knew I was going to die by the age of 35, drunk on the streets. And I just didn't care. My prayer had been answered. I was incapable of feeling anything. I have broken every commandment. I'm not proud of that. There are some things I cannot... I can't return a stolen tape. I can return a stolen tape. There are some things I can't give back. And I know people tell me not to feel guilty. But for a woman like me, guilt is a gift. Because I was incapable of feeling it prior to Alcoholics Anonymous. I was sitting in this beer joint this Saturday night. And a man approached me. And he told me he wasn't buying what I was selling. And I said, excuse me, fool, if you think I'm giving it away. I didn't know I was supposed to. I got sober and came into AA. And they said, this is a sharing program. I don't even let my sponsorees give it away. I tell them, that's a marketable commodity. Sell it. It was all I had to offer for a whole long time. This man dared me to go to Alcoholics Anonymous, more or less. And I said, okay, big boy, because I'm one of those that took people's dares. I was brave. I wasn't afraid of nothing or anybody. You want somebody to fight that one? I'll do it. You want that store robbed? I'll do it. You want that person taken care of? I'll do it. I wasn't afraid. And I wasn't afraid because I knew because I didn't care. I was incapable of feeling. So when he challenged me to go to Alcoholics Anonymous because they thought I had a drinking problem, his wife and I, his wife and him, I said, okay, big boy. And the next day, he told me to get up and not take that first drink of alcohol the next morning. I said, okay, big boy. And I went home that night and I went to my sister's house. The next day, that man called me. Now, I woke up and sat up to the side of my bed like I'd done for many, many years. I woke up many mornings and reached to the bottom of that bed for my bottle of whiskey and brought it up to my mouth for the very first time I could not take a drink. I realize today that was God doing for me what I could not do for myself. And I got sicker not taking that drink than I ever had taking a drink, let me guarantee you. And that idiot called my house about noon. And he said, hi, this is Harry. You had a drink? No, big boy. Don't even want one. Do you need a ride to the meeting? Cricket. Cricket. I don't need anything from you. I told you I'd be at your meeting. I'll be there. I came into Alcoholics Anonymous with two prejudices. I did not like red-haired women. Before you leave, I sponsor two of the most beautiful red-haired women in the world. And I did not like lesbian women. And I sponsor several lesbian women. God does for us what we cannot do for ourselves if we are willing to turn our will and our life over the care of Him. He absolutely will do it. I took a yellow cab to my first AA meeting in Denver, Colorado at 1311 York. Oh, Lord have mercy. I walked into the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen in my life. People were laughing. They smelled really funny. I think it's called clean. And they touched each other. And this red-headed lady came walking up to me and she says, hi, are you an alky? And I said, no. And she said, no. And I said, no. And she said, no. And I said, no. And I said, no. And I said, no. And I said, no. And I thought, come on, lady. And so I knocked her on her rear end. They passed their little wicker baskets and they said, if you've got it, put it in. If you need it, take it out. I took their money. They said, take what you can use now, what you can't use now. Come back and get it later. I went into their office. I stole their adding machine. I took it to the pawn shop. I stole their typewriter. I broke into their coat box. They copped a resentment. They started having groups and group conscience meetings. They started calling special meetings. They started studying their traditions. I had a lot of power when I was new in sobriety. I stayed sober at that group. I got three weeks of continuous sobriety. I'm one of those blessed. I've not taken a drink of anything containing alcohol since the day I walked in. That includes old tools, old duels. Any of that. Candy ass stuff that just contains a little tiny bit of alcohol. It's the one thing I know that the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous says we don't take anything containing alcohol whatsoever. Whatsoever. No amount. See, I can't play with alcohol. Because if I play with alcohol, I'm playing with my recovery. If I play with my recovery, I'm playing with my life and the life of the people that care about me. I can't afford to play with alcohol. I can't afford to do that. I cannot afford to do that. I stayed sober at that group and they did something that was a little unique to Denver, Colorado. They assigned me escorts. Two men met me at the door. They walked me to the meeting. They sat beside me during the meeting. I had to bring back the money I panhandled. I couldn't tell men how much I charged anymore. And they walked me out the door after the meeting. With six months of continuous sobriety, I was approached by the Narcotics Association. I was approached by the Narcotics Division of the Denver Police Force and told I had to leave Denver. And I said, for six months I've done nothing. Where am I going, big boys? And they said, Cricket, you're moving to Texas. I said, excuse me? Drunk, I never went to Texas. And they said, that's why. See, I'm a believer. I believe people. And I'd heard about Texans. I heard they had goat ropers, tumbleweeds, and they used corn cobs. I wanted no part of it. And so I told these gentlemen, okay, I'll go to Texas on three conditions. I want a high school diploma. I want a car and a driver's license. And I want three cases, a case of the softest toilet paper made by mankind. And they did all of those things. It took 30 minutes for a lady to read me a bunch of questions and I had a high school diploma. They bought me a car and gave me a driver's license. And they bought me three cases of Charmin. Felt good. And I got to Fort Worth, Texas and I did exactly what they told me to do. Now that car had three pedals. I had two legs. And somehow or another, we never bonded. There was always something in between us. So I ruined the car. But I did what I was supposed to do. I called the group of Alcoholics Anonymous way on the other side of town. And they asked me if I needed anything. I said, what I asked, what I asked you for, fool, was directions to your group. I don't need anything else from you. Can you handle just doing that, big boy? And he said, yes. And he gave me directions and I hitchhiked clear across town and walked into my first Texas AA meeting and I was really absolutely disgusted. A red-headed lady came walking up to me and she said, hello, darling. And put her hands on me. And it just made me crawl all over. And so I knocked her on her rear end. And this is where I started hearing about Al-Anon. You know, I'd heard about wives in beer joints. Well, now I'm sober in AA and I start hearing about wives. And I hear these poor alcoholic men talking about, you know, they didn't like me drunk. They don't like me sober. They didn't want me in a beer joint. They don't want me at an AA meeting. And I thought, my God, you poor fellas. And I kept hearing how sick these Al-Anons were. Showing you what God does, I sponsor one. I challenge anybody to pick up an Al-Anon book, read through it, and work that program. I challenge you. It's an awesome recovery program. But back then, I'm a believer. And I felt compelled to do my first act of Christianity. And I went to the hospital and I stole the intensive care unit sign. And I went back and I nailed it on the Al-Anon room door. That evening, that evening, this late at, you know, the Al-Anons all went in the back room where they met at and they shut their door and all the AAs saw that sign. They all turned around and looked at me and I just went like that and just kept going on. And then the late Al-Anon came in and she saw that sign. She was cute. Because she shut the door real emphatically. Not loud, just emphatically. But it wasn't two seconds later that the Al-Anon came out. She was so adorable. Her little nostrils were flared out here. And their shoulders were way up. This was before shoulder pads. And these little veins stuck out and these little veins stuck out. And she had perfect diction and she said, who hung that sign? And I said, I did, lady. She said, oh, it's okay, cricket. She was scared of me. Somebody got to resent me. They got to riten at that group and they torched it. Then I didn't do it. You know I didn't do it. I've been sober approximately eight years at this time. I might think about it, but I didn't do it. I haven't burned an AA group yet. Let me put it that way. But when that group moved to another location, I could not move with it. And so I went to another group in Fort Worth called Harvard. It was a group where I was told I would never fit in. The women at Harbor are ladies. The women at Harbor dress well. The women at Harbor have proper social skills. The women at Harbor are sophisticated. But I couldn't go make the move with the other group. And so I walked into my first meeting at Harbor group with eight years of continuous sobriety and a red-headed lady came walking up to me. And she says, Cricket, my name's Betty G and I'm going to be your sponsor. I said, excuse me, lady, I've been sober several years now. She said, oh, I'm not taking away from that. What I want you to do is go in the office with me because, see, Cricket, I'm real scared of you. And let's go in the office. And if I think you understand what the program of recovery is all about, I will leave you alone. Not the fellowship, the program of recovery. And I said, okay. And we went into the back room at Harbor. And Betty G opened up the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous and she handed it across the desk to me. And she said, Cricket, darling, read me the first portion of Chapter 5. And I started reading to Betty G. Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path. And I read on and on and on. She reached across the desk and she took the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous out of my hand. And she said, Cricket, darling, you can't read. And it was like somebody kicked me in the guts. And I kind of sucked wind and I said, lady, she said, I had it open on Chapter 3. Now, let me tell you what they did with that information. They took me to university to remedial reading. And I sat in a class with little 9- and 10-year-old children. And an 86-year-old lady taught me A, B, C, D. E, F, G all the way through. She taught me the name of every one of those things. And she taught me the sound that those things make. And I never will forget the day that three cards flashed up B, A, T. And it went from B, A, T to BAT. You know, a BAT. And as soon as those letters joined hands, they made a word. That word made a picture. I knew. I knew what a BAT was. You hit a ball with a BAT. Some of them fly in caves and I've got a neighbor that's one. Be very careful what you tell somebody the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous says. Be sure that you're telling him what it truly says. I sat there every day and I went to that group where those men and women would never accept a woman like me. They made me change the way I dressed. The women taught me. That I shouldn't be used merchandise anymore. I don't belong in a goodwill box to be picked over anymore. But I didn't know that. They taught me how to not steal. Because they taught me the exact nature of stealing. And it was covetousness. Jealousy. Oh, I'd rather be a thief than be jealous or covet. I'd rather be a thief. But they were right. The exact nature. Those women and those men sat in that room at the Harbor Club. The group rented from the Harbor Club. Every day they taught me to write. They taught me how to multiply, add, subtract, and divide. I gave birth to my only child. And I went to the hospital. And when I came home, I said, I'm home from the hospital. A few days later, maybe two, I called my sponsor. And I said, Betty G., y'all need to come and get this baby. And she said, Cricket, we don't do that. And I said, but you need to come and get her. And she said, why? And I said, Betty, I'm going to hurt her. I don't want to, but I'm going to hurt her. And I'm not going to be able to stop me if I start. See, what happened is I'd change her like they told me to. And I'd put her in her crib. And she'd cry. And I'd go in and say, stop it, please. And she wouldn't. And I'd go back in and I'd say, you really need to stop that. And she wouldn't. And I would pick her up. But see, I couldn't pick her up like this. I would pick her up like this. And I knew. I knew I was going to hurt her. Those women and those men came to my house. And you know what they did? They told me that when I feel that way, to leave her in the crib and me go outside. And stay outside until I could come in and pick her up and not be like this. And so I'd do that. They'd show me one day that I feel, and I'd put her head in here and her butt in this hand. And I looked at her. I could look her in her eyes. And one day I picked that little girl up. And I looked her in her eyes. And she smiled at me. She smiled at me. You know? My daughter has never lain in the floor and seen a foot coming down side her head. My daughter has never been called a dirty name. She has never been told she was a nut. I put my daughter in a private Christian school because I didn't know about God. And I wanted her to have a choice. And I worked. I got a legal job. I get to pay taxes every year. That's good for me. I'm excited about that. I put her in this school. And I cleaned houses. And I mowed yards. And I trimmed trees. And I did whatever I could to give her an education. My daughter went through high school. She went through two years of college. She works a legal job. Has never done anything real bad. And you know, she's buying a brand new house. And it's got central air and heat. Well, I don't. But I got a toilet though. You know, I got indoor plumbing. And I got electricity. And it's got a two car garage. It's got a fireplace. It's got a lot of things. And I was a part of that. And you know why? Because those women and those men cared enough about me to see something there. I've heard since the day I walked into Alcoholics Anonymous about high bottoms and low bottoms. Now let me tell you all about the high bottom alcoholic in this room. That would be me. The low bottom female alcoholic is the one who has to hide away from her home. Away from the preacher and the school teachers and the PTA members and her own husband. That's a woman who knows pain every bit as much as a woman on the street knows pain. That's a woman who knows lies every bit as much as I know lies. That's a woman who has to steal from her own family to support the disease of alcoholism. There's no high bottom or low bottom in my opinion. There really isn't. There really isn't one. We suffer from a disease of alcoholism. Those women taught me how to sit at a table and use the things that you're supposed to use to eat. There was a little much on the table tonight. There was a little too many things. But I at least know how to use a fork now. And I know how to use a knife now. I know how to do that. I sponsor some of the most wonderful people in the world. There's a gentleman in Fort Worth that trusts me with his checking account because he makes irresponsible financial decisions. And I get to add and subtract. He's never had a check bounce. Because I know how to add and subtract. My daughter, when she was going through school, introduced me to a new thing called fractions. You know? It's so exciting to be able to know that here's a hole and here's a part of that hole. And you want a common answer. Okay, my friends, look around this room. Here's a hole. And we're all a part of that hole. And the common answer is being willing to turn it over one day at a time to God as we understand Him. I'm not what I was 28 years ago. I'm not even what I was 20 years ago. Or 24 years ago. Or 25 years ago. My sponsor took me to a new land. A new land. A land of new beginnings. And I got to stand on the shore. And I got to admit that I'm powerless over alcohol. My life's unmanageable. And I got to come to believe that a power greater than me would restore me to sanity. I got to turn my will over to the care of God as I understood Him. And you know how I understand God. I understand Him in the old spiritual song that they sang as we followed the crops. How sweet the sound. You know, once we were blind, look around you, were you ever blind? All of God's beauty right here, right now, could you see it? Absolutely not. And now we walk. And we do. We do. And we all will mount up with the wings of an eagle. I guarantee it. I guarantee it. That's not my opinion. That's a promise. And my God's not a liar. My God's not a liar. He's a gentle man. He waited until I was ready. He never forced Himself upon me. And when I could go before that man with many, many years of sobriety, I said another prayer. And I said, Dear God, sir, my name's Cricket. And many years ago I asked you to help me never feel again. And sir, if there's any way possible, please help me to feel again. And I don't want any special favors, sir. I know I may even have to feel bad. My sponsor became very, very ill. And she had me on this journey. And I worked the steps much the way Johnny was describing me. And when I'm in the process of making direct amends, she has me making direct amends to senior citizens. And one night I went over and I tucked her in bed. My daughter was at the babysitter's because part of my amends to senior citizens was to call bingo free every Saturday night at Harbor Club. I would never have dreamed of telling my sponsor, let me think about it or let me check with someone else. You're already creating an argument and an excuse not to do it. So get another sponsor anyway. Obviously, you don't respect the one you got. You don't have enough sense to be grateful that somebody cares enough about you to call your hand on it. So get you a candy ass. There's lots of them out there. I apologize. You know, I tucked my sponsor in bed that Valentine's night. She wanted to sleep in a lavender nightgown. She was a judge's daughter. She went to finishing school. She was a lady. And her bottom was at the same place as mine. The same place as mine. I tucked her in bed this Saturday night in her lavender gown. I put six live yellow tulips by her bed. I said, I'm going down to call bingo. And that lady looked up at me. I mean, she was a real tall red-headed lady. And she laid on that bed and she looked up at me and she said, cricket darling. And there was a tear coming down the crack in her cheek. And see, I tried to find where that tear came from. You're not going to find the tears from your sponsors if you just look here. Because they come all the way from down inside here. You ask us to cry with you, to walk with you, to laugh with you, to hold you, to pray for you. That tear came all the way from the deepest bottom of her soul. And I looked down in her eyes and I said, Betty G, I love you too. The next morning when I went back, my daughter and I to do her breakfast, I found my sponsor in her bathroom floor dead in her lavender nightgown. And I knelt down beside her and I wrapped my arms around her and I said, Betty G, you know, how do you give back life? How do I repay her? A woman 56 years ago brought me into this world through her body. A woman 28 years, 20 years ago brought me into the world through her love. She loved me into being. If you ask me with several years of sobriety how do you spell your name? I would have said N-O-T-H-I-N-G. That's what I am. That's where I'm going and that's what I want. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. See? Betty and those people at Harbor took that nothing and they dumped it out there on the floor, that group. Just like a spiritual jigsaw puzzle on a lot of little bitty pieces. And you know what my God told him? He said there's always one piece missing. And once the puzzle's done you all are always searching all over for that one missing piece. So I'm going to cut this group some slack. And I'm going to provide that piece. And he found that missing piece of cricket and it's called the heart. And at that point God laid that down and he took out of me that heart of stone and put in me a heart of flesh and that group built around it. That's what makes me able to come to Sacramento, California. That's what makes me know how it is to be grateful that two people will take me to a grocery store. You know they let me get in a brand new car. A lady picked me up in a Mercedes. You know. I was a hot diggity. And I go and there's a neat basket. Jeannie and her friend gave me a present. Gave me a present. And it's in my basket. And it's going home with me. Unless one of you all tell me you need it. Then I will give you my gift. Because you look out there. You're all looking out there. You're looking up here. You just see one thing. Just one thing. But God blessed me because he's got fingernails. And God took his fingernails and he went right down the middle of my breastbone and he opened me up. And now when I look out there I get to see it all. Recovery is a gift from God handed to us through the first hundred men and women of Alcoholics Anonymous. You have to be willing to go to any lengths not to take a drink one day at a time and that's what I'm willing to do. I want to thank everybody everywhere who has touched my being. Not necessarily my body but my being. When you touch my being you touch my heart. And when you touch my heart you touch my soul. And inside there it's not dirty anymore. Inside there God made it whole. And what more can you want from sanity than just to be whole. Thank you all for allowing me to be a part of you.