On the subject of "going to 'Rehab'"

"They tried to make me go to rehab, I said no, no, no."

It was two days after my 45th birthday that in a bar called Hula Hula that those words came out of my mouth. I was doing karaoke for the first time in many years. Gone from my mind was any memory of doing it before - so why now? The occasion was a warmup for my improv class performance the following Sunday. Teacher Doug thought it would be a great idea for us to lose our stage fright BEFORE our showcase, and set up the evening.

"Yes I been black, but when I come back, gonna know, know, know."

All week, I had been preparing for this moment. What song would I do to establish my presence? Most people do a song that they identify with, something that might define them - My Way, New York New York, Hit Me with Your Best Shot, Love Shack. So why was it than when I was introduced as doing the next song, the karaoke screen said "Rehab, in the style of Amy Winehouse?"

"I ain't got the time, but if my daddy thinks I'm fine."

It had been two years since my Dad had died. In those two years, there have been very few times where I have been a genuine portrayal of myself. One time was at a softball game, where I decided that after having one of the worst days of my life, that I was going to end it as one of my best. So I became, well, an a-hole on the field. Not a real nasty one, but rather someone who just didn't care anymore. I was all over the place. Heckling batters from the pitcher's circle like I was in the front row at the Sportatorium booing the Fabulous Freebirds. The center fielder, who had dropped two balls in the first inning found herself confronted by a channeled Matt Foley, motivational speaker. "Drop another ball and you'll be living in a van down by the river." In answering the very vocal first basewoman of the Krashtest Dummiez, that night's opponent, about the fact that I must have been hyped up on Mountain Dew, I replied - TWO SOOOOOPER BIG GULPS, I thankyouverymuch.

Since then, I have played characters. Dad. Husband. Boss. Co-Worker. Each of these are part of me but they are not me.

"Cause there's nothing you can teach me, that I can't learn from Mr. Hathaway."

My record collection when I was little was not typical. The first album I ever bought was Helen Reddy's "I am Woman." That was followed by the 45's of "The Night the Lights went out in Georgia" and "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy." Then there was "Killing me Softly" by Roberta Flack (with a duet with Donny Hathaway. Not your typical 8 year olds collection... at least not one for someone who would end up married and very straight. My tastes were different. They would lead to disco and then to early alternative, and now to an obsession with British pop.

"Didn't learn a lot in class, but I know it don't come in a shot glass."

I was not a great student in school. Didn't like to read, barely liked to write. I was a child of media. Radio and tape recorders were my best friends. Being a DJ into a cassette was as good as it got. In high school, I drank a little to make it look like I was cool. Never could hold onto great grades or alcohol. Neither meant a lot to me, they meant something to other people.

Now as I am older, I love to write, and I don't drink - haven't had a drink since the early 90's. 

"The man said why you think you here. I said I got no idea."

I started taking improv when my therapist told me I needed to do something for me. I always appreciated the talents of the people on "Whose Line," especially Wayne Brady. I loved comedy. I never acted, but I thought it would be a great outlet. There it is. I found something for me! So I signed up that day, only to be old that the class had sold out. 

Luckily, I was able to find another class with a genius named Matt Smith, who introduced me to the art. I have taken many classes from many teachers, but never felt like I was "getting it," and I began to be very discouraged. In my older age, had I lost the ability to think fast and be funny?Here I was, the one voted "Thinks he's Class Comedian," and I couldn't come up with anything funny.

Finally in one class, I just shut up and used my body to do the talking. It was a watershed moment. This 6-4, 250 pound guy seemed to be able to say more without a word than the big voiced guy he shared a body with. Finally, I started to get it.

"I'm gonna, gonna lose my baby."

I have never been a great dad. I try to be, but my patience does not equal the patience of my Mom. She raised me on the tail end of raising what would turn out to be an alcoholic/drug addict daughter. There were few times in my life where I could feel the stress she was going through. I don't keep that stress hidden as well. So now that my kids are 11 and 8, I try to do better. But the girl is entering puberty, and I have been told that in the next few years, if I can get her to ever talk to me, it will be an accomplishment." 

My son always talks. He's mini-me. He sings in the car. He cracks jokes. He hates to read. He loves to play with cameras. Damn... it's scary!

"He said 'I think you're depressed."

I have tried two anti-depressants in my life. Both gave me migraines. I don't think I have ever been depressed, but I have been sad. Stress is a bitch, and anxiety is a nasty mistress.

"Kiss me here baby and go rest."

Sleep, it is something that is relatively new to me. I love to sleep, used to do it for 10 hours a day. I used to be a night owl. I used to be younger. Then I got married, had kids, took a job that made for long days, late nights and lots of stress. Sleep? What's that? (See "on the subject of late nights."

"I don't ever want to drink again. I just, oooh, need a friend."

After improv classes, most everyone would head over to a local bar for drinks and tater tots. I was the only teatotaler in the group. That made me unique, but not unapproachable. As a matter of fact, it made me have a clear understanding of who I was. Each night, I would sit next to someone different and learn what I could about them. I discovered a new world. This diverse group was comprised of individuals from many different walks, from unemployed to executive, party animal to straight laced, powerlifter to those with few muscles, mustached to clean cut. Individually, we were as different as could be. Together, we were an incredible aura. I had not found a new group of friends. I had found something much different.

"It's not just my pride, it's just till these tears have dried."

At the last class, we played my favorite improv game - 10 through a door. the object is to come into a scene with a different character every time - with no preconceived ideas. Every time the teacher said switch, you had to run around the chair and come into the "door" with another character. On about the fourth or fifth character, I ran through the door with my hands folded and began to look at each person in the class. Doug yells "SWITCH!" And I move on.

Following my run through the many characters, he asked me to explain what the character was that had folded hands. He said I thought I was stuck and wanted me to move on. I told him that I was not stuck at all. I was just taking in the moment of being around such an incredible group of people. It was then I did something I would have never expected. I cried. I didn't want it to end. I had found myself again... not the one playing a character. I had no desire to ever, ever lose the feeling I had at that moment.

"They tried to make me go to rehab, I won't go, go, go."

So there I was singing in a jazzy Amy style. I had my eyes closed, except when I needed a word or two. And when I finished, I felt a peace I had not felt in years. One classmate said "I didn't think you had that in you?" I said to myself, I have had that all along. It is who I am... I just needed to go to "Rehab" to find it.

Yours truly,

Johnny Blogger