Tag: comedy

  • How "Wired" Betrayed John Belushi's Legacy and Misportrayed Addiction

    How "Wired" Betrayed John Belushi's Legacy and Misportrayed Addiction

    While Belushi’s family and friends would prefer that “Wired” be forgotten, the book provides a fascinating glimpse into how we didn’t understand addiction and harshly judged people who struggled with it.

    “Woodward – that cocksucker!”

    You can’t blame Jim Belushi for being upset. In fact, many of John Belushi’s friends and family members were infuriated with the book Wired, which was written by Bob Woodward, the legendary Watergate reporter.

    Published by Simon and Schuster two years after Belushi’s death from an overdose, Wired was a stark and frightening portrait of drug addiction, but those close to Belushi felt its focus was too narrow, that it didn’t contain any of Belushi’s humanity or good qualities. Woodward put together the cold hard facts of Belushi’s addiction and piled up a number of horror stories, without capturing the whole picture of who the man really was.

    “Exploitation, pulp trash” – Dan Akroyd Describing Wired

    A swift counter attack on the book came from Belushi’s widow, Judy Jacklin. Dan Aykroyd denounced the book as “exploitation, pulp trash,” and Al Franken told Variety, “I hated Woodward’s book because I don’t believe he made an honest attempt to understand John, who despite his sometimes gruff exterior was a gentle soul. My former partner Tom Davis put it this way: ‘It’s as if someone did your college yearbook and called it ‘Puked.’ And all it did was say who puked, when they puked and what they puked. But no one learned any history, read Dostoevsky for the first time, or fell in love.’”

    The controversy made Wired a major best-seller, and the people close to Belushi, who spent untold hours telling all to Woodward, felt burned and betrayed. Woodward was seemingly befuddled by the controversy, and many found his obtuseness infuriating. Woodward told People he was sorry that Jacklin was upset, but “what is important is that Judy is not alleging inaccuracy.”

    While Belushi’s family and friends would prefer that Wired be forgotten, the book provides a fascinating glimpse into how many of us, like Woodward, didn’t understand the nature of addiction and harshly judged people who struggled with it.

    Today, the rise and fall of John Belushi would be written differently, and much more sympathetically.

    Robin Williams once joked that if you remember the seventies, you weren’t there. Not only was it an exciting time for comedy, but many in the entertainment business were out of their minds on cocaine. No one thought the high times would ever end.

    Belushi: A Regular Guy Who Became a Star

    John Belushi was a regular guy who became a star, thanks to the success of Saturday Night Live and Animal House. He was relatable and appealing. The public loved him.

    But his private life was more complicated. Belushi could be brusque and awful, and like many people with addiction, there was a terrible Mr. Hyde that came out when he used. But just as frequently he was kind, decent, and generous.

    Despite his talent and confidence as a performer, offstage Belushi was vulnerable and unsure of himself. Bernie Brillstein, Belushi’s manager, once said that the comedian was “sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes in need of a swift kick in the ass, more often in need of a hug.”

    When Belushi died at age 33, it shocked the public. In the pre-internet, pre-TMZ eighties, Belushi’s addiction to cocaine and heroin was mostly hidden from the public. 

    Belushi’s death hit hard. He was a major counterculture hero and a whole generation felt the loss. It was also a big indicator that the seventies were finally over. As Paul Schrader, screenwriter of Taxi Driver and American Gigolo, told journalist Peter Biskind, “The game was up. Some people quit right away, but the feeling was, the rules have changed.”

    In the world of journalism, Bob Woodward was a major star in his own right. He came from the same hometown as Belushi, Wheaton, Illinois, and his reporting on Watergate turned him and his partner Carl Bernstein into household names. He was portrayed by Robert Redford in the big screen adaptation of All the President’s Men, further cementing his legendary status.

    Was His Death a Sting Operation Gone Bad?

    As a political writer, drugs and the Hollywood fast lane were not in Woodward’s usual wheelhouse, but when Judy Jacklin reached out shortly after her husband’s death, he was intrigued. Jacklin felt there was more to her husband’s death than a simple drug overdose, and she believed Woodward, who was already admired by the counterculture for bringing down Nixon, could get to the bottom of it.

    Michael Dare, a former dealer and film critic who knew Belushi well, started asking around to find out what happened. There was apparently a rumor going around that Belushi’s death was “a sting operation gone bad.” Cathy Smith was a groupie who sold heroin to Belushi and gave him the speedball injections that killed him; some believed she was an informer for the LAPD.

    Robin Williams and Robert DeNiro were with Belushi briefly at about 2 a.m. the morning he died, and some suspected the LAPD were hoping to set up a big bust where all three would get nailed. According to the rumor, the drugs that killed Belushi were given to Smith by the police. Dare even claimed he heard that a cop “prepared the scene the way he wanted it to be found, then went down the block and waited for the body to be discovered.”

    Woodward never found any evidence of this, “not even as a wacko theory,” Dare said, and in retrospect the theory does seem ludicrous. But this was the primary reason Jacklin reached out to Woodward in the first place, and Wired is the result: a hard rebuke to that “wacko theory.” (Where Deep Throat told Woodward to “follow the money,” Dare told the reporter to “follow the drugs,” which he probably now regrets.)

    As far as personalities, Woodward and Belushi couldn’t have been any less alike. Many who worked with Woodward found him cold, aloof, an uptight authoritarian workaholic without much of a sense of humor. In other words, he was the wrong person to write Belushi’s story from the get-go. But could be disarming, and many people confused the real Woodward with the version of him they knew from the big screen: Redford-as-Woodward.

    In fact, when one of Belushi’s friends, Anne Beatts, was contacted by Woodward, “my secretary thought it was Robert Redford on the phone. Woodward was so charming, such a good listener, and we were so impressed meeting him. It was like, would Robert Redford lie to you?”

    Woodward was so good at getting sensitive information out of people, most of Belushi’s friends didn’t catch on to him until it was too late. (“None of us knew what he was really up to,” Aykroyd recalled.) In hindsight, Belushi’s peers realized they were naïve. Considering Woodward helped topple the White House, what made them think he could be trusted not to reveal anything they didn’t want to see in print?

    Woodward Wasn’t the Best Person to Write About Belushi…or Addiction

    There were other reasons why Woodward wasn’t the best person to capture a complicated personality like Belushi, or the complexities of addiction. Jacklin said that he took a complicated story “and made it very simple,” and one of Woodward’s colleagues told Rolling Stone that he “isn’t all that introspective. He’s a wonderful machine for gathering facts. He’s not good at insight…He wanted to go beyond the facts, and the gray areas were too immense…the facts about Belushi became his only refuge.”

    What was especially infuriating to Belushi’s survivors was that Woodward blamed the Hollywood system and many close to him for enabling his death. But for Woodward, who was accustomed to tackling American corruption, condemning Hollywood came naturally: “There was no friendship and a safety net in that circle to save him,” Woodward told journalist Alicia Shepard. “I think it would have been morally offensive for me to try to please.”

    Bernie Brillstein was one of Belushi’s peers who objected to Woodward’s characterization of show business. In his memoir, he wrote, “Woodward blamed John’s death on what he thought was a morally corrupt business that indulges its stars with reckless disregard for their well-being because so much money is on the line. That really offends me. We’d have to be scum. Inhuman. No amount of money in my pocket would have made me ignore John’s health for my own gain.”

    When celebrities like Belushi needed help, it was a different world. In the early eighties, we didn’t have rehabs on every corner or TV shows like Intervention. The underlying causes of addiction were not well understood by most doctors, and treatment options were still in the dark ages. (There’s speculation in Wired that Belushi’s addiction and mood swings could have been from a chemical imbalance like “manic depression,” but he was apparently never diagnosed.)

    Belushi’s Death Signaled a Need for More Addiction Treatment

    “We’d talked about institutionalizing Belushi but never did,” Brillstein explained. “The choices at the time were limited to hospital psychiatric wards and white-bread joints for alcoholics. Belushi’s death, perhaps the first high-profile cocaine casualty of the ‘80s, certainly signaled a need for drug rehab centers.” (The Betty Ford Center opened the same year Belushi died.)

    Aykroyd added, “Intervention back then was not a tool that was used. Today if we had a problem like this, we’d get six to ten people together, we’d get the guy in the room, sit them down and say, ‘It’s gonna stop. You’re going into rehab and that’s it.’ Back then that was not a technique that was wide-spread.” For a while, Belushi had a sober companion hired from the Secret Service who did a good job keeping the drugs away, but it was a triple overtime job that wasn’t sustainable.

    Years after the Wired fall-out, Jacklin and Tanner Colby wrote an authorized Belushi biography, and it’s fascinating to read both books back to back because together they give you a good idea of the intense highs and lows of John’s life. Jacklin’s book gives you the good memories, the brilliance of Belushi’s comedy, and the good side of his personality. Then when you pick up Wired, you realize what terrible, terrifying lows Belushi sank to in his addiction.

    If Belushi had lived, he would be 70 today. His comedy still stands the test of time, but he had so much more to give. Not long after he died, a fan left a note on his grave: “He could have given us a lot more laughs, but NOOOOOOOOOO….”

    If any good came from Belushi’s passing, it was that it scared a lot of people straight. SNL producer Bob Tischler recalled in the book Live From New York, “When John died, it changed me. I gave up doing drugs. And I haven’t done any since.”

    He Made Us Laugh, and Now He Can Make Us Think

    And while many felt that Wired gave an incomplete picture of Belushi’s life and legacy, Woodward definitely got one thing right: “Nonetheless, his best and most definitive legacy is his work. He made us laugh, and now he can make us think.”

    Or as Brillstein summarized, “Four years of television, seven movies, and we’re still talking about him. Isn’t that amazing?”

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Staying Sober Through a Cancer Diagnosis and Treatment: My Story

    Staying Sober Through a Cancer Diagnosis and Treatment: My Story

    Two incredibly painful paths have made my life better: a design for living from the program, and a new reverence for life from cancer. Both brought me closer to my higher power.

    Clean Sheets, Healthy Food, and a Loving Relationship

    A little over nine years ago, I was working on my 3rd step when my sponsor asked me to share what it would look like if my life were restored to sanity. I said I would have fresh clean sheets, clean clothes, plenty of socks and underwear, food in the fridge, and a loving relationship. She said to me (and I remember this so clearly):

    “You can have all that if you want it and God wants that for you.” Okay, the last part of the sentence is less clear, but it feels right — that God wants me to have clean sheets, clothes, healthy food, and a loving relationship. It seemed impossible to have any of that at the time, even being sober. I was a mess and still couldn’t shower regularly, wash my (small amount) of clothing consistently, and I was in no place to be in a relationship. I was barely six months sober and still detoxing. I certainly didn’t have any tools in place. 

    A Design for Living and a New Reverence for Life

    Today my life is so different and it happened just like the program says it will when people wish us a “long, slow recovery.” Slowly, as I worked the program, went to meetings, and did the steps, my life changed. The pain led me to surrender and then to a better life. And shockingly, as I make it to the other side of cancer and cancer treatment, I’m realizing that my life got better from cancer as well.

    Two incredibly painful paths have made my life better: a design for living from the program, and a new reverence for life from cancer. Both brought me closer to my higher power. 

    This morning I got up and did what I always do: I prayed and meditated, read from my books, and drank the coffee my sweet, patient partner makes for me every morning. I finished packing for my trip this weekend and took a shower, put on clean clothes, and got some healthy snacks together. I’m going to Iowa to be with my family for the funeral of my beautiful Aunt Jody, who passed away on Tuesday. She died from lung cancer after a short but courageous battle. She is at peace now, and I am grateful that I can be present and be of service to my family

    My aunt’s passing from cancer hit me hard because I just finished cancer treatment five months ago. It’s terrifying that cancer took someone’s life in my family so quickly. Jody was a beautiful, bright, passionate, loving woman. Hopefully I can help lighten the load on my family a little. My mother always appreciates me making her laugh. I can’t imagine the grief she’s feeling after losing her baby sister.

    Recovery, Comedy, and Cancer

    As a breast cancer survivor, I had the opportunity recently to speak at The Pink Agendas 2019 Health & Wellness Educational Symposium at The Sheen Center for Culture & Thought in New York City. The organizers asked me to share my story and it was super challenging because of… me. It should have been a simple request: share my story. They said they knew I was a comedian and that they wanted to close the show with me to help lighten the mood of the evening. The event was a panel of doctors, nutritionists, and survivors; a fundraiser to help aid research for a breast cancer.

    But this is what I heard: “Hi, we want you to share your story at our fundraiser, please sound like a doctor, and by the way the entire possibility of finding a cure for breast cancer lies on your shoulders. Please don’t hurt anyone’s feelings about their cancer and, also, you must look very, VERY professional and have a PowerPoint presentation as well. Good luck, we’re all counting on you.” I drove myself and my poor guy crazy getting ready for this. My sweet brother who has a PhD helped me to edit my speech but I could not memorize it. I memorize stuff all the time, but I couldn’t get this in my head. Finally, my sponsor said that she was pretty sure they just wanted me to speak from my heart. Then my partner told me to add some of my jokes that I use in my standup act about my cancer. 

    So, I just got up there and did that. It was a little messy, but I spoke from my heart, told my story, and expressed my gratitude for the treatment I received and for fundraisers like this that help support the research to find the treatments. It was emotional, my aunt had just died from cancer and a dear friend was going in for breast cancer surgery the next morning.

    I feel I have a responsibility as a cancer survivor now, to share my story and my hope. Similar to what we do in the program.

    My aunt was a woman of grace and dignity and I aim to be half the woman she was. She always told me how proud she was of me for being sober (she also told me I needed to do sit-ups before I could find a husband!). Two hours after I landed in Iowa for her funeral, I went to a meeting. It was an open GBLT meeting and one of my sisters came with me. And they did what AA does all over the world, met me and my sister with open arms. They read The Promises at the end and I realized that the promises really are coming true for me. 

    Surrender and Gratitude

    I have a beautiful life. I am alive, and I made it through something that I never thought I could: cancer and cancer treatment, and I stayed sober. I have the program and all the people in it to thank for that. I was held up, I was loved, I didn’t have to do it alone. I surrendered to alcoholism and was finally able to get sober. I surrendered to cancer and was lucky enough to make it out alive. Hopefully I can remember each day that it is only one day at a time and that each day is a new opportunity to live well. 

    If you had told me ten years ago that I would get sober and that my life would change in completely unexpected ways I wouldn’t have believed it. If you told me that I would also get cancer and after 14 months of treatment my life would improve two-fold I wouldn’t have believed you and I probably would have gotten drunk over it. 

    I don’t share or talk about the program or my sobriety very much because it makes people uncomfortable and I try to honor the AA traditions. However, I can talk about breast cancer publicly and help raise awareness about the importance of early detection through screenings. So, I now have these two pillars helping to hold up my life now: sobriety and cancer. Here at The Fix I can express how much I need this program to survive and I don’t know how I could have gotten through cancer without it.

    Someone said to me from a different fellowship that it was no surprise that God got me sober before I found out I had cancer. I am so profoundly grateful that he did. I have learned to trust my higher power on a much, much deeper level. Now, one day at a time I will continue to practice that 3rd step, put on clean socks (and maybe do some sit-ups).

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Comedian Jake Fogelnest: From Self-Loathing to a Life Beyond His Wildest Dreams

    Comedian Jake Fogelnest: From Self-Loathing to a Life Beyond His Wildest Dreams

    Notice they don’t call it the “9th Step Maybes.” It’s not the “9th Step Possibilities.” It’s the “9TH STEP PROMISES.” It’s very clear: we must be painstaking and take the suggestions. But if we DO…some amazing stuff will happen before we know it.

    Comedy Central, VH1, MTV, Netflix. Jake Fogelnest’s TV writing/producing credits are too long to list – and he wouldn’t want me to. I know Jake as a kind, funny, and humble man I met outside of the Hollywood Improv last summer, who treats everyone he meets with the same consideration. I was thrilled when he agreed to be part of this interview series.

    The Fix: What is your favorite thing about being sober in comedy?

    Jake Fogelnest: My favorite thing about being sober in comedy is that I’m ready to work WHENEVER. Whether it’s late nights or early mornings, I’m ready to show up. If I’m writing alone, there’s nothing better than going to bed at 10pm, waking up at 6:00am and just starting to write as the sun comes up. If I’m in a writers’ room, I love being able to come in fresh and ready to go until we need to stop (hopefully at a reasonable hour – usually we do). Or if I’m shooting something, I love that I can make a 4:30am call-time and be relatively alert. Adding a hangover into any of those situations? NO THANKS.

    I even have friends who can drink “normally.” Maybe they’ll overdo it once a year and then have to show up for work hungover and just suffer through it. I always feel SO bad for them! My sobriety ensures I never have a day like that! It’s such freedom! The worst thing I’ve had to endure in sobriety are days where I didn’t get enough sleep or if I have a minor (not contagious) cold. 

    This may sound really simple. I’m basically saying, “My favorite thing about being sober in comedy is that I can show up to work like every normal person on the planet does for their job every day.” I know there’s gotta be some Al-Anon people reading this right now going: “Oh, he’s all proud that shows up for work on time? Let’s throw this little asshole a parade.” Sorry. I know it’s small, but even after all these years of recovery, I’m grateful I can show up. I could be dead! 

    What is the most challenging thing?

    The most challenging thing is recognizing where alcoholism shows up in other areas of my life. Just because I stopped drinking and using drugs 12 years ago doesn’t mean that I don’t have the disease of alcoholism. I’m in recovery, but the alcoholic thinking is still there. It has been HUMBLING to recognize how my character defects can still show up. They find new creative ways to do so all the time!

    If there was an Emmy Award for “Outstanding Achievement in Holding onto Resentment,” I’m afraid I would be at least eligible for a nomination. I might not win, but I think I’d be a strong contender. I could list who I think some of the other nominees might be. It would give you a hell of a headline! Sadly, through recovery I’ve learned restraint of pen and tongue… which really fucks up clickbait! 

    Seriously, it’s all challenging, you know? It really depends on the day. You get some time under your belt and you think, “I got this.” And yeah, maybe I do “got this” in the sense that I’m probably not going to go out and drink tonight. However the underlying stuff that made me reach for a drink in the first place? That comes up all the time. Most people would never know. Or maybe everyone knows! Truth is, I don’t care anymore. As long as I’m taking the night right action and not being a jerk. 

    I can say I’ve been a LOT better this year about practicing self-care, reaching out for help and making sure I stay in touch with my higher power. It sneaks up on me, but I do get reminded: this journey is never done. I think I’ve only recently come into TRUE acceptance of that. I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with the concept of uncertainty. I had to because I realized IT WAS NEVER GOING AWAY. They say this disease is cunning, baffling and powerful. What I have found challenging is how cunning, baffling and powerful it can be… and it has NOTHING to do with drinking. Now it’s just about living. 

    How has your career evolved since you committed to recovery?

    I wouldn’t have a career if I didn’t have recovery. Recovery has to come before everything else. There are times in my sobriety and my career where I didn’t put it first and WOW did that always come back to bite me in the ass. Recovery first, everything else second. Always. 

    I also think accepting that things don’t happen on MY timetable has been a huge blessing in making my way through career stuff. It’s show business. There are so many ups and downs. There is also so much waiting. You also need to self-motivate. All things that can totally activate an alcoholic. 

    Today I am grateful for a fantastic career. Is it exactly where I want it to be in this moment? NOPE! But I don’t think it ever will be. I think that has less to do with alcoholism and more about being any type of creative! Even for the most successful people in the world, there’s always going to be SOMETHING unfinished or unrealized. Some script you can’t quite crack, some project you can’t find financing for, some scheduling that doesn’t work out. Who’s a big successful person? Steven Spielberg? He’s big, right? I bet even Mr. Steven Spielberg himself has at least ONE thing he just can’t get made. Maybe it’s a sequel to E.T. where E.T. comes back to teach Elliott about SPACE JAZZ! I just made that up, if Steven likes the idea, he can call WME. But bringing it back to recovery (sorry I brought it to SPACE JAZZ), I truly believe that everything happens when it is supposed to. Some days do I get a LITTLE impatient with that stuff? FUCK YES. But that’s when I turn it over… or call a friend and complain. 

    No compare and despair shit though. Someone else’s success is NOT my failure. Others might be able to do that. For me, it’s bad for my brain and recovery. 

    I’m just incredibly grateful that nothing has come to me a SECOND before I was truly ready to handle it. If it were up to me and things were operating entirely on my timeline, I bet “my best thinking” would lead me straight into a brick wall. Having a spiritual connection and knowing that more will be revealed is essential to me. But yeah, at the same time, I really should have an overall deal somewhere. I mean, fucking come on. (It’s good to have a HEALTHY bit of ego.)

    In the Big Book of AA, the 9th step promises say: “If we are painstaking about this phase of our recovery, we will be amazed before we are halfway through.” Are you amazed?

    I love the promises so much. It’s probably my favorite thing in the big book. 

    Am I amazed? CONSTANTLY. Where my life was before sobriety and where it is today? They say “beyond your wildest dreams” and they aren’t kidding. I could sit here and rattle off all the ways the promises have come true in my life. I could even throw in some stuff about the “cash and prizes.” But I don’t want to speak from a place of ego. I think it’s more valuable to share about the promises and how important they are to show to newcomers! 

    Whenever I find myself talking with people early in their sobriety, I point them straight to the 9th step promises. I think it’s a BIG thing to make a promise. Think about how cruel it would be to promise all that stuff to someone and not deliver on it? Notice they don’t call it the “9th Step Maybes.” It’s not the “9th Step Possibilities.” It’s the “9TH STEP PROMISES.” It’s made very clear: we must be painstaking and take the suggestions. But if we DO… some amazing stuff will happen before we know it. 

    Here’s another way I’m amazed — and this one isn’t so cheery. Even though I have felt the promises first hand and I’ve seen them come true for others, as I continue to deepen my recovery— I still battle with willingness! I have a lot of fear of fear that holds me back. Not so much with career stuff anymore, but in other areas of my life. That being said, it feels really GOOD to talk about this knowing that I am back at being painstaking as I continue to look at this new stuff. For example (and this is a lame small one), after 12 years of sobriety, today is one month and 24 days without smoking a cigarette. It feels great. I hate it.

    How did you handle your first 30 days in relation to your comedy / writing career?

    For my first 30 days I didn’t worry about my comedy/writing career. I worried about getting sober. It’s not like anyone was knocking down my door at that time, but even if they were — I still had to put recovery first. There is no career if I’m sick. 

    I did what I had to do to make a living and that’s about it. I was VERY lucky that my employers at the time were actually directly responsible for getting me to a place of acceptance that I needed recovery. The “wildest dreams” took a backseat. I think there’s this misconception people have in early sobriety that they’re going to “miss out” on something, particularly “momentum in show business.” Guess what? Show business keeps moving without you. If you’re talented and you work your program, show business will be waiting for you when you’re healthy and ready. Whatever big opportunity you think you’re missing out on is NOTHING compared to what could come your way in sobriety. 

    What do you think it is about comedy and the entertainment industry in general that attracts so many addicts? Or the addicts that are attracted to comedy?

    Addicts are sensitive people. So are creatives. It makes sense that sensitive creatives would seek to self-medicate. That’s all creatives, not just comedians! But let’s talk about people who do comedy for a second. The job of a comic is to be hyper aware of the world and reflect it back to people in a funny way. That can be a painful process filled with sensory overload. You’re gonna want to numb out. Shut your brain off. In fact, it’s essential that you do so, otherwise you’re gonna go insane. There’s just a healthy way to do that and an unhealthy way to do it. Ugh, I remember sitting in a meeting early in sobriety listening to some asshole saying something like, “Just breathe” and I wanted to punch his fucking lights out. 

    The guy was right by the way. Breathing is good. Sorry.

    What advice would you give a comedian who struggles with chronic relapse?

    Relapse is part of recovery. I’ve relapsed. I’m very grateful to have 12 years now, but it took a few rounds to get there. The biggest piece of advice I could give? That SHAME you have around relapsing? Yeah, that’s fucking useless. I’m not saying don’t take it seriously. I’m not saying there’s not consequences to your actions. I just find addicts and alcoholics put this tremendous extra layer of ULTRA-SHAME and SUPER-GUILT on top of everything that really serves us NO purpose. It’s bullshit self-loathing. Believe me, I’ve been sober a long time and I’m a fucking expert at doing it. I could teach a masterclass on that website. 

    Here’s the thing though: FUCK THAT SHAME. Just come back. No one gives a shit. No one is judging you harder than you are judging yourself. I guarantee, you’re your own worst critic when it comes to relapsing. Just fucking come back. 

    Anything I missed?

    No one’s life has ever gotten worse because they decided to stop drinking. No one. Ever.  

    Jake’s story shows that it’s possible to stay fully grounded despite achievements, never forgetting what recovery has always been about: one addict helping another.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Jackie Kashian: From Drunk Driver to Hero of This Story

    Jackie Kashian: From Drunk Driver to Hero of This Story

    I would love to just check out with booze. But whatever I want to check out from will still be there when I sober up – plus whatever drunken stealing, screwing or hitting I did while I was drunk will have to be fixed.

    Last summer, I had a 12-step sponsor who counted performing as a relapse: weed, alcohol, stand-up comedy. Those were the things I needed to stay away from. She promised I was building a foundation for a life “more profound than pussy jokes.” But that’s not a life I want. Without comedy, and before comedy, I never cared about my life enough to even want to stop drinking. This summer, my sponsor is a fellow comedian, but one who started comedy in sobriety. So I’m asking all my favorite sober stand-ups how they do comedy and stay sober. AT THE SAME TIME.

    On Jackie Kashian’s website, there is a page of the advice she was given in 1986 as a new comic. It ends with: “You are a sweet, intelligent, powerful, exuberant comic.” Watching her perform at the Portland Maine Comedy festival a few weeks ago, I couldn’t come up with a more fitting description, other than to add on what she’s gained through the years: powerhouse. And one she rarely mentions: sober. 

    I first came across Jackie when I moved to NYC three years ago and began listening to her second podcast, “The Jackie and Laurie Show.” Jackie and her cohost Laurie Kilmartin had been there, done that, and sold the t-shirts. They are authentic, wise, and most importantly, hilarious. I spent my first year in the city feeling invisible, drinking intermittently (I bombed at an open mic! Time to throw away seven months and GET WASTED!) and waiting for their next episode to come out.

    Her latest album may be called I Am Not the Hero of This Story, but she’s certainly a hero of mine. 

    The Fix: How did you get sober and continue to do comedy?

    Jackie Kashian: I stopped drinking and “got sober” after I got my second DUI. One in Minnesota and one in California. So they both counted as “first DUI’s” because different states and we do not—still to this day and counting—have a national ID card. I couldn’t go on the road for three months which helped me get a solid block of time of me not drinking at comedy clubs in town. I would go do sets, get a Diet Coke and last as long as I could after the show. It wasn’t that long because watching people you like get drunk is not attractive. And not getting drunk was not fun. 

    Note: no one else was psyched when I got drunk… just me. 

    When I first went back on the road I was terrified. I was doing a run of one-nighters in Illinois and ended up featuring the week with this guy (I can’t remember his name but it was a city and a name, like Boston Bill but it was Charleston Chuck). He was a real road dog guy in the fact that he only worked the road. His stand-up was good for the one-nighters and I was worried he was going to be one of those guys that encouraged shots and tried to get laid. Turns out… that guy? He was 15 years offa the booze juice. And he was super supportive. So he didn’t get drunk. He didn’t cheat on his wife after the show and we had a couple brunches that week. It made me realize that it could be done. It was an awesome coincidence that helped a lot. And a friend of mine who’s sober also sent me on the road (it was a three week run) with 21 envelopes, one to be opened each day. Inside was the name of a famous writer, comic or whatever person who was sober. That was inspiring too.

    What is the hardest thing about being sober in showbiz?

    The hardest thing about being sober around comics and showbidness is that I have a constant committee meeting in my head telling me I’d be further along if I partied with so and so. I’m sure if I wanted to sleep around, the meeting minutes would be about how I’d get more work if I slept with more random dudes. It’s not true by the way. When I stopped drinking I was mostly scared of not being funny anymore. It turns out that life is, actually, more absurd stone cold sober. 

    What is the best?

    The best thing about being sober is not being in jail for driving drunk. I’m sober so the things I get from not being drunk all stem from the fact that I drove drunk every night I drank. I never did have one shot and a beer. See how I didn’t just type one beer? I needed to add the shot. And I did stand-up at least four times a week and stand-up is most often in places with booze. So at least four nights a week I was drunk driving. The best results of not doing that… hell… let’s list them after not being arrested. I wake up without a hangover at a reasonable hour (let’s go with 9am because I’m a comic). Even if I screw around much of the day I can still be awake and writing and sending avails and asking for jobs and shows for two hours a day. That bare minimum of a work ethic gets me 40 weeks of work a year. 

    How do/did you deal with hanging around/with other comics?

    I don’t do late hangs and have recently just been organizing brunch hangs with comics. I love hanging with comics and comics love an 11am something. So I invite comics to meet me at a diner around 11am every week and we riff and bust each other and talk shop and eat eggs. It’s the best. 

    Advice for the chronically relapsing comic?

    Comics (and people, but comics a lot) are certain, because they’re so smart, that they can practice, think or work around the problems. I tried to stop drinking for a couple years before it took this time. I used to “practice” turning down drinks. Some woman once said to me a couple things: “Who’s offering you drinks in your mind?” She was right, because I was buying my own drinks. And “No is a complete sentence.” You don’t need to practice it. “No thank you” if you’re feeling polite.

    How do you feel about selling booze (part of the job of a comedy show) as a former heavy drinker?

    I am so interested in what everyone else is drinking. Saw a guy the other night at a comedy show – he had five glasses of wine. How do I know? I don’t remember counting them but hot damn, I was. I’m not a prohibitionist if that’s what you mean. I say, drink as long as you can. You’ll know if it’s screwing up your life. You know. I tell my nieces and nephews “if you treat it with the right amount of wariness you might last longer than me.” Unsaid is, “cuz yer probably a crummy drinker like me and will have to quit eventually.” Ah well.

    Anything else?

    Other than that… it’s a simple idea to not drink. But things that are simple are not easy, right? It’s like you’re banging your head against a door. It’s the right door but that doesn’t mean that your head doesn’t hurt. I don’t know if that analogy works. But maybe you get it. It’s a simple idea… but I have to remind myself all the time that I don’t drink. Because I would dearly love to check the fuck out and booze is really good at making that happen. But whatever I want to check out from will still be there when I sober up – plus whatever drunken stealing, screwing or hitting I did while I was drunk will have to be fixed. So I’ll have double the nonsense to fix. Sober is preferable to fixing double the nonsense. Best not have the drink.

    ***

    I spent some time last spring after my winter relapse (like an old familiar scarf that you’re also allergic to) introducing a joke about alcoholism by saying, “If you’re thinking of buying me a drink after the show, don’t!” But when I read Jackie’s answers to my questions, I realized that scenario was only happening in my mind. Nobody was thinking of buying me a drink after the show. Except for me, trying to put the responsibility on the audience.

    Recovery is not about running from all you love so you can hide away in a safe space with no triggers. That former sponsor who told me to stay away from comedy was a would-be photographer with almost ten years clean – and still not feeling ready to pursue that dream. Recovery is about taking away the thing that is slowing you down – the active addiction- so that all is left is to run towards what you love.

     

    Jackie is fond of saying: “Tonight I get to do my favorite thing in the world, stand-up comedy.” If you’re still searching for your passion, check out Jackie’s original podcast, Dork Forest. It’s 476 episodes of people talking about their favorite things in the world. 

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Eddie Pepitone: From Falling Down Drunk to Sober Stand Up

    Eddie Pepitone: From Falling Down Drunk to Sober Stand Up

    Comedy is totally addictive! It hits the part of the brain that drugs do. The love me love me I’m home I’m home part (that is when it goes well). You feel exhilarated because you are the center of attention.

    I was a few months out of my second rehab facility when a friend and fellow stand up comic handed me a DVD, a documentary about comedian Eddie Pepitone called The Bitter Buddha. I was riveted by the documentary – not only was this man talking about real things that matter on stage (while I was mostly doing sex humor) but he was sober! And had been for a very long time.

    I declared him my favorite comic and waited anxiously for his first Netflix special to come out, In Ruins. I actually planned to go to the taping in Brooklyn, but then I relapsed. And I came back. And I relapsed. And I came back.

    My first article for The Fix was about giving up marijuana. I left out the role Eddie played in that, but here we are. 

    Last February I planned to go to LA, where Eddie lived, for some shows. I also planned to get a medical marijuana card. I emailed Eddie that I was his self-appointed very biggest fan, and he agreed to meet. We made plans. This was it! I was going to meet my comedy idol! And he was sober! But surely, I thought, he probably smoked weed. Living in California and all, and how could anyone even do comedy without imbibing in something at least–at the very least–after the show. (As if I could ever wait that long.)

    I planned to meet Eddie at a vegan restaurant and then go to a play. But first, that day I took a girl I met at a meeting to Harry Potter world. And then when I dropped her off, I had to get super super stoned to make up for the few hours I couldn’t. And then I was on the phone with the sponsor I had at the time yelling about how I was going to be late. And then I just had to stop at a dispensary.

    I was late to dinner. So late, in fact, that the first thing Eddie ever said to me was, “I ordered you dinner. And I ate it all.”

    So we go to the venue and my car just stinks like weed, which Eddie noticed. He brought it up, and when I heard him say the word I got super excited. I knew it! He does smoke weed! This is all the validation I have ever needed!

    However, I was wrong. He was bringing up weed to tell me it was the last thing he quit; that after that was when his career really started; that marijuana dampens the dreaming mechanism. The hole in my gut raged, as I knew he was right. After that I kept in touch with him more. He has helped me so much, and I know he can also help you.

    I have relapsed since then, most often the same old story other chronically relapsing comics tell me: hanging out too late, too good a set, too bad a set. There are a ton of us out here, and I’m sure there are more in other industries, building it all up in the periods of sobriety, then – at best – coasting on those wins during periods of relapse, and starting all over again when we get scared enough. 

    Yet there are a number of comedians I know with sustained, continuous, joyous sobriety. Those are the ones I wanted to talk to, the ones whose secrets I desperately wanted to know, the ones who seem to hold all the horcruxes that I can’t find. 

    So I asked Eddie.

    The Fix: What is the hardest thing about being sober in the comedy industry?

    Eddie Pepitone: Feeling like you’re missing out on an exceptional post-show high. Comedy is all about the adrenaline rush, and booze and weed intensify it and make you feel like a god. Also, comedy is such an intense brain-centric art. I miss turning it off with pot. The brain relaxes with pot.

    What is the best thing about being sober in comedy?

    Feels so great to do it sober and kick ass. I actually remember everything and I did it without drugs! Also [I’m] much sharper when I’m not high. I create more sober and am surprisingly much [more] fearless. I see stoner comedians flounder sloppily a lot.

    How did you deal in the early days of sobriety?

    Early days I did (as I tend to do now) split right away after I perform and stay out of trouble. I can hang now if I want and not feel as needy but I usually get bored after a while.

    What do you think it is about comedy that attracts so many addicts? Or addicts that are attracted to comedy?

    Comedy is totally addictive! It hits the part of the brain that drugs do. The love me love me I’m home I’m home part (that is when it goes well). You feel exhilarated because you are the center of attention (what addict isn’t about me me me???). The pace of jokes, the racing mind, the intoxication of the good looking crowd. THE VALIDATION.

    What advice would you give to comedians who struggle with chronic relapse?

    Chronic relapse and being a comic is super hard, so preventative measures need to be taken. TAKE CARE OF THE MIND/BODY. Meditation practice (tough because comics thrive on chaos and have little discipline) but you have to try to slow down and get a good foundation during the day. Try to stabilize endless desires for sex and excitement by letting go of intense fantasy life. Yoga, 12-step meetings, a couple of sober or even-keeled friends (but I find all this hard as my habits are so ingrained). Gym and exercise helped me. 

    Any other advice you think is helpful?

    Build up sobriety slowly. Feel the good feelings of not being fucked up and achieving stuff. It’s so nice not to be hungover. When depressed, talk to a deep friend who gets you.

    That deep friend, for me, is the one and only Eddie Pepitone. Sometimes when I’m lonely and don’t want to bother him, I listen to his podcast, Pep Talks, in which he is exactly how he always is: brilliant and authentic and brazenly self-aware. 

    Thank you Eddie, for being a light that shines the way out of the dark. And to all my fellow chronic relapsers out there: all we have to do is stay sober ONE MORE TIME than we got drunk.

    View the original article at thefix.com