Right after finishing RDAP, I was talking to another inmate about comedians and I recalled a monologue of one of my favorite comedians, George Carlin, that stuck with me because I thought it wasn't only funny but brilliant. So I emailed my brother and asked him to send it to me. He did. But it now hit me differently.
I went through 9 months of RDAP, and I'd been clean for 2 years for the first time in 40 years.
Labels Don't Paint the Full Picture
During my sentencing hearing, I based my allocution statement on showing the judge that the labels that the US attorney was using to define me weren't accurate and didn't paint the full picture of who I was. The prosecutor argued that I was just another criminal drug trafficker and drug addict that deserved to get the maximum sentence of 12 years.
In my personal narrative and at my sentencing hearing, I stood up, addressed the court, and told the judge that there were other labels the prosecutor was leaving out. I was also a law school graduate, a bail bondsman, I was a father, and much more. And yes, an addict lying to myself, making terrible choices, and thought I was functioning.
The court took that into consideration and sentenced me to the mandatory minimum of 5 years.
Addiction Is Not a Crime
Carlin's monologue is basically a list of labels. It tied directly into one of the most important things I learned.
Addiction is not a crime. Being an addict is not a crime. It's not what defines you. Being a felon is not what defines you. And what you think does not define you. What defines you is what you do.
Because at the end of the day, I don't think God, the court, society, or history judges, punishes, or rewards us for every crazy thought that's ever entered our mind. Having cravings doesn't make someone bad. Being tempted doesn't make someone bad. What matters is the decisions we make after those thoughts show up.
The people that you hurt, the people you help, especially when they can't give anything back like an old person or someone dying. The choices you make when nobody's watching.
Love Is an Action, Not a Feeling
Another thing: do you think love is a feeling or an action? I would contend the latter.
When your baby starts crying at 3:00 in the morning, the last thing you want to do is get out of that warm bed and make a bottle. You're exhausted, you're frustrated, you have to work in a few hours, but you do it. Why? Because you love your child. Your thoughts say stay in bed, your actions say get your ass up, and your actions are what matters.
That's why Carlin's monologue stuck with me — because labels don't tell the whole truth. What you call yourself isn't what defines you. An ordained Catholic priest can't define himself as a good person if he's secretly doing things to little boys. On the flip side, what others call you isn't what defines you, either. That's why it's a waste of time to dignify with a response or let it affect you in any way when someone insults you.
What defines you is what you do.
The AA recovery version is: you're not responsible for your first thought, but you are responsible for your first action.
The Modern Man
So, while waiting for my release, to keep my mind busy, I read Carlin's speech from an entirely different perspective and memorized it. It was fast, funny, brilliant. But the reason it stuck with me wasn't just the comedy — it was the contradiction that made the joke, and it applied to me. The whole thing is basically a man describing himself with labels. It went something like this:
I'm a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke-free. A diversified, multicultural, postmodern deconstruction that's politically, anatomically, and ecologically incorrect. I've been up-linked and downloading. I've been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside to the downsizing. I know the downside of upgrading. I'm a high-tech, low-life, a cutting-edge, state-of-the-art, bi-coastal, multitasker, and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond. I'm new wave, but I'm old school, and my inner child is outward bound. I'm a hot-wired, heat-seeking, warm-hearted, cool customer, voice-activated and biodegradable. I interface with my database, and my database is in cyberspace. So, I'm interactive, I'm hyperactive, and from time to time, I'm radioactive. Behind the eightball, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet, and pushing the envelope. I'm on point, on task, on message, and off drugs. I've got no need for coke and speed. I've got no urge to binge and purge. I'm in the moment, on the edge, over the top, and under the radar. A high-tech, cut-low-profile, high-concept, ballistic missionary, a streetwise smart bomb, a top-gun bottom-feeder. I wear power ties to tell power lies. I take power naps, and I run victory laps. I'm a totally ongoing Bigfoot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a proactive outreach. I'm a raging workaholic, a working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial. I've got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, and a personal agenda. You can't shut me up, you can't dumb me down. Because I'm tireless, and I'm wireless. I'm an alpha male on beta blockers. I'm a non-believer and overachiever. Laid-back, but fashion-forward. Upfront, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance. Supersized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting. Oven-ready and built to last. I'm a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk headcase, prematurely post-traumatic, and I've got a love child that sends me hate mail.
But I'm feeling, I'm caring, I'm healing, I'm sharing. A supportive, bonding, nurturing primary caregiver. My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on a long bond, and my revenue stream has its own cash flow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food. I buy junk bonds, and I watch trash sports. I'm gender-specific, capital-intensive, user-friendly, and lactose-intolerant. I like rough sex, I use the F-word in my email, and the software on my hard drive is hardcore, no softcore. I bought a microwave at a minimal. I bought a minivan at a megastore. I ate fast food in the slow lane. I'm toll-free, bite-size, ready-to-wear, and I come in all sizes. A fully equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically-formulated medical miracle. And I've been pre-washed, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed.
And I've an unlimited broadband capacity. I'm a rude dude, but I'm the real deal. Hot, cocked, locked, and ready to rock. Rough, tough, and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow. I ride with the tide. I've got glide in my stride. Driving and moving, sailing and spinning, jiving and grooving, wailing and winning. I don't snooze, so I don't lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty, and lunchtime is crunch time. I'm hanging in there, ain't no doubt. And I'm hanging tough.