With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A sickened mind and spirit
The mirror tells me lies
Could I mistake myself for someone
Who lives behind my eyes?
Ozzy Osborne, Diary Of A Madman

If I had only known then what I know now...

My Dad made me an offer that any sane man would gladly accept: "If you stop doing drugs and alcohol, you can live at home, and I will put you through college". But I was not sane, and I would never stop my partying ways. The recent revelations about a larger life would not slow the addiction train. Young and foolish, I moved out two days after I graduated High School in June of 1981. Surprisingly, my final GPA was 3.4 (B+), not bad given the amount of drugs I did during my travels through three high schools. I might not have an ounce of common sense, but I can do Math and English easy. Anyway, big grown up that I was, I moved out on my own. To my Mommies' house...

Life at Mom's was pretty laid back. She was what I now understand to be an 'enabler'. My pot smoking didn't alarm her like it did my Dad; she even smoked with me a few times. The Rock N Roll sure kept rollin'. That year I saw Styx, Rush, Van Halen and The Rolling Stones in concert. I crammed my drums into my room at Mom's house and continued practicing, still dreaming of stardom. I recall auditioning for at least one band, but I wasn't a good enough drummer, not for them anyway. For a guy who desperately wanted to be a famous drummer, I sure didn't try very hard.

I got a job, and worked for a few months. When I lost that job, I collected unemployment. I think somewhere in here I gave up on myself. I rarely went out, I had no life, and very few friends. I was quite stuck. I just sat around quietly doing my drugs. It should also be noted that I collected twice as much unemployment as Mom knew about. So half of the money I gave to Mom, while the other half secretly paid for my drugs and alcohol. It was inevitable that my life was about to take some new twists.

Early 1982, Mom discovered my money and drugs secret. The wheels of intervention started to spin when she told Dad & Vicky about my problems. They all confronted me about my troubles in a family meeting. They were thoughtful and loving as they pointed out my obvious problems. For the last five years, I had gotten drunk every chance I could, and regularly smoked pot, snorted cocaine, eaten LSD and mushrooms, and taken every pill I could get my hands on (up or down). The strange thing was that up until that moment, I never viewed my drug & alcohol use as a "problem". Drinking and drugs were as natural as eating or sleeping. As the family meeting concluded, I conceded that I had a problem and agreed to enter a drug treatment center.

Three significant things happened at my very first treatment center: 1. I was introduced to Jesus, 2. I was introduced to the 12 step program, and 3. I met the woman to whom I would lose my virginity. Hell of a first attempt at treatment. Looking back, I am impressed with how much I experienced in a short span of time. Quite a lot for a kid to go through. I was only 18 when I checked in for treatment.  I celebrated my 19th birthday while I was there...

The treatment center was more or less a very plush hospital. There were doctors, nurses and even drugs (sedatives) to aid in the withdrawal process. There were lectures on a variety of topics ranging from health to psychology and addiction. There was also a swimming pool, a jacuzzi, ping pong tables and a basketball hoop. If it weren't for the addiction problem, it could have been a nice vacation spot. It was at this place that I attended my very first AA Meeting. It was a night that I will never forget.


My name is Ron, and I am an alcoholic...

I had long hair, like I do now. I was 18, wearing bell bottoms and my Pink Floyd jersey. I listened to the speaker, and I watched as lots of people celebrated days, months and years of sobriety. When they opened the floor for other speakers, I summoned the courage to say a few words. I took the podium in front of about 200 people. I said very few words, something like, "I have been an alcoholic and an addict for 5 years, yet I am still not old enough to even buy alcohol. I've been watching all of you smiling, happy, celebrating your sobriety. I want what you have...", and that was it. For a moment, the room sat in shocked silence. As I started to walk back to my seat, silence gave way to thunderous applause and cheers. My sobriety would not last more than a few months, but the knowledge that I had an addiction problem would never ever leave me, no matter how hard I tried to forget. This would not be my first AA Meeting, nor my first treatment center.

As my education in addiction continued, something else happened that would forever influence my life: God planted another seed of faith. If you consider the first steps I took in high school and connect the dots, what happened during my time in treatment put a specific 'Name' to the possibility of faith. In the nightstand next to my bed, I found "A Letter From A Friend". You may have heard of it. This text may have some minor variations, but I discovered that it has endured through the years. I first read it in April of 1982. I copied it from the internet to post here in this blog March 2010.

I can still picture the room I lived in during my stay at the treatment center. As I read the 'Letter' in my lonely room, I remember thinking about the prom night 10 months before, when my friend spoke of his 'faith'...

A Letter From A Friend

I just had to write to tell you how much I love you and care for you. Yesterday, I saw you walking and laughing with your friends; I hoped that soon you'd want Me to walk along with you, too. So, I painted you a sunset to close your day and whispered a cool breeze to refresh you. I waited - you never called - I just kept on loving you.

As I watched you fall asleep last night, I wanted so much to touch you. I spilled moonlight onto your face - trickling down your cheeks as so many tears have. You didn't even think of Me; I wanted so much to comfort you.

The next day I exploded a brilliant sunrise into glorious morning for you. But you woke up late and rushed off to work - you didn't even notice. My sky became cloudy and My tears were the rain.

I love you. Oh, if you'd only listen. I really love you. I try to say it in the quiet of the green meadow and in the blue sky. The wind whispers My love throughout the treetops and spills it into the vibrant colors of all the flowers. I shout it to you in the thunder of the great waterfalls and compose love songs for birds to sing for you. I warm you with the clothing of My sunshine and perfume the air with nature's sweet scent. My love for you is deeper than any ocean and greater than any need in your heart. If you'd only realize how I care.

My Dad sends His love. I want you to meet Him - He cares, too. Fathers are just that way. So, please call on Me soon. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait - because I love you.

Your Friend,

Jesus


When I read His Name, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I had heard about Jesus, I knew He was the guy they talked about at churches. I was impressed that His letter had reached me. I didn't quite figure out the God = Jesus connection (it is not an intellectual equation), but the 'Letter' was a comfort nonetheless. It surely left its mark, though. Another seed was planted deep in my heart, making such an impact that I would write about it almost 30 years later.

I was still a ways off from 'salvation', and a lot further away from 'life more abundantly'. It would take another 15 years before I would find lasting sobriety, and it would take a quarter of a century before I would dare to trust Him enough to "mount up with wings as eagles..." 


As my music continued to fade away, my youthful adventures in sin and stupidity were far from over. Thankfully, Jesus was not done with me, either...

Chapter 5, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm... 


The Journey Continues...

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way...

Pink Floyd, Time  

I suppose if my life through the years was normal (whatever that is), there wouldn't be anything interesting to write about. And if I had not gotten addicted to mood altering substances and not gotten kicked out of school, I might have cruised through school and into a life so ideal that there never would have been any need for God. But I made some incredibly stupid mistakes, and my life was far from ideal. Therefore it should not be surprising that as high school came to a close, I would stumble across my first seeds of faith. But I get ahead of myself.

High School...

I did not go to one high school, I went to three. Because of the trouble I had gotten into, my freshman and sophomore years were spent in an all boys catholic high school my parents sent me to. Talk about a crash and burn. My magical days of popularity were long gone, permanently. If there was anything remarkable about my experiences at St. Francis High, it was the utter lack of the life changing message of the Gospel. One would think that Franciscan monks would radiate the love of God, and Christ. What I remember most was getting hit with the ropes hanging off the brown robes they wore, one of many punishments for my misdeeds. It is a shame really, a missed opportunity to save a lost young man. After two years there, I begged my parents to let me go back to a public school. My parents thankfully relented, and I headed down the road to La Canada High. Both my junior and senior years might have been spent at that school. But alas, at the start of my senior year I was arrested for drugs, and then expelled from school for the second time. A drifter was born. I graduated from Glendale High in 1981.


Rockin' Ronnie: A Legend in his own Mind...

The turbulent years did nothing to change my love for drinks and drugs, nor dissuade me from my dream of rock and roll stardom. I practiced everyday, for a few hours a day. In my fantasy world I was convinced that I would be as rich and famous as my heroes. The fact that no one ever saw me play the drums was irrelevant to my belief that I would ascend to my very own level of greatness. Fame was my birthright, a reward for the great musician that I was sure that I would become.

During these years I would see some of the very greatest concerts of all time, by anyone's standards. Not only was I astounded by the sights and sounds of these shows, but my education as a drummer continued in the presence of the finest musicians in the world. At every show I usually learned how to play something new, and my skills grew daily through many hours of practice. My thoughts varied as I gazed upon my rock heroes. There was amazement, " Wow! I want to learn how to do that", or revelation, "Oh! So that is how he does that!", and sometimes arrogance, "I can play better than that drummer. How did he ever get to be famous? He sucks." It was infuriating to me that a drummer with below average skills was on stage, and I, Rockin' Ronnie, was not bathed in glory under the bright lights.

For the most part, I was in awe of these rock gods. Led Zeppelin is still one of my favorite bands, and John Bonham is still my favorite drummer. Progressive rock bands like Yes, Genesis and Rush elevated my drum skills to new heights. And the party gods, Van Halen, affirmed my commitment to a lifestyle featuring drugs and alcohol. I went to several rock concerts every year, sometimes with friends, but usually with Mom. I went through the motions of school and homework, but most of my energy was spent in pursuit of the next drink, the next drug, the next party. In spite of my addictions and the encroaching realities of life, my dreams and my fantasies remained fixed upon being a world famous drummer.


Beyond the surface...

As some of you know, hallucinogens can be quite amazing. Yeah, you're busted; I know I am not the only one. The effect caused by these powerful drugs is impossible to describe. To be overly simplistic, everyday ordinary things appear new, shiny, amazing. But before the end of high school, I would accidentally discover the the other side of hallucinogens, the expanding mind.

The first mind expanding experience was at a small party with my closest friends. We had eaten some LSD and were just sitting around drinking and smoking, another typical evening during my senior year. I cannot tell you what was said that night, if anything. What I remember most from that night was that at some point, I suddenly saw in my mind's eye "the kingdoms of the world", leaders, governments, powers, wars, vast civilizations, planet earth, all of it. For 18 years, the only "world" I was aware of was my home, my neighborhood, my school, my music, and my fantasies. The sudden awareness of the whole world, in its entirety, was a shock of epic proportions to my young mind. The next experience would go one step further.

Prom Night, 1981. Of course, Rockin' Ronnie was in reality Ron the Loser, the kid who had no prom date. My evening was instead spent with a friend, and a bag of mushrooms. I found myself once again in the middle of another mind expanding experience, but this time it would be my heart that would be moved. I cannot tell you how the subject came up, but for some reason my friend started talking about God. If there was anything kind of cool about this part of the story, it was that my friend was not talking about 'religion', he was just talking about 'God'. Now, it was my contention that there was no God because I had never seen God. I will never forget my friend trying to describe the meaning of faith, that it was not based on what we see. He said in closing, "It is something that you just reach out and take", and plucked something invisible out of the air. With the motion of grasping the invisible with his hand, I actually understood what he was saying! And with that, for the very first time I realized (or was at least willing to consider) that maybe there is something more to this life, something that cannot be seen. At that very moment, I knew I would never be the same.

For all of the things that happened in high school, I find it remarkable that the experiences that stand out most are my new found awareness of a larger world, and my earliest step towards faith. Today I still listen to the music from those crazy teenage years, but the idols of my youth are of little importance to me now. What is important to me today is living my life as the man God created me to be. I am still amazed that my steps into a life of faith were not taken in a church, but were steps taken as I traveled on my own 'road to Damascus' during the hazy drug filled days of high school. Is this surprising? Jesus did some of His best teachings at parties, and apparently He was just getting started with me...

Oh sure, some folks might say my visions were only drug induced delusions. Others might say I was in a perfect moment of readiness, ripe for seeds of faith. Whatever your opinion, my goal here is only to document the experiences that led me to my life of playing music for Christ. Suffice it to say that I am very grateful for those early experiences.

If it wasn't for a 'step one', it would not be possible to take a 'step two'. As I took step two, how I got to step one was irrelevant. All that mattered was the next step, and my next step would be coming soon...


Dreams turned into nightmares, and my music began to fade away. But even as I crashed and burned, my heart would be given an opportunity to sing a new song...


Chapter 4, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm...


The Journey Continues...

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Crazy ways are evident
In the way that you're wearing your clothes
Sippin' booze is precedent

As the evening starts to glow

Led Zeppelin, Dancin' Days

The Summer of 1976...

Southern California really is gorgeous, a great place to spend a vacation.  And what a great summer vacation I would have.  First thing every morning I would get up and put Dancin' Days on my stereo, and I would rock out as I looked ahead to another fun summer day.  It was a season of exploration filled with dirt bikes, Playboy magazines, custom built skateboards, skinned knees, rock and roll, and the fullness of the teenage experience.  It was also a summer of change.

My hair grew longer.  Slightly ragged bell-bottom blue jeans and rock t-shirts replaced the 'geek' attire I used to wear.  I would never play the clarinet again, ever.  I didn't know what would happen with my band class, and I had no idea how I would ever play the drums.  The summer days and nights were all that mattered, and I emerged from this summer with a new rock and roll image.

There was something else that came out of 1976.  I had my first cigarettes, my first drinks, and my first drugs.  In each case, they would be the first of many, way too many.  By the end of the year, I was an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a smoker.  My first year as a teenager, an age of magic and wonder, would also be remembered as the beginning of the destruction of every part of my life, including my music.


8th Grade...

My first class was the Marching Band.  A great way to start the year, except that I could not play any musical instruments.  The wheels of bureaucracy started spinning to transfer me out of the class, but it would take a week or two before I would actually stop going to Band class.  But music was not the most important thing on my mind to start the year, nor was getting A's in class.  My top priority was popularity.  I was happy to find that my efforts to craft a new image had paid off.

Yes, I had become a member of the 'cool kids' club.  I was not the clarinet playing 'A' student that got picked on, not anymore.  I was considered to be 'cool', mostly because I radiated rock and roll from every fiber of my being, from clothes, to posture, to manner of speech.  I got to hang out with the very kids that were out of my league a year earlier.  As if that wasn't enough, my life at school was about to get even better.


A huge gift was bestowed on a little kid, and Rockin' Ronnie was born...

One or two days before my transfer out of Band, one of the drummers was absent from class.  Without a word, I sat behind the big marching bass drum, and read the music.  As the band played, I thumped along in perfect time.  The teacher was so impressed, my transfer out of Band class was canceled.  Just like that, I was officially a drummer!  Yes!  Life was quickly becoming too good to be true.

Popularity at school was not foremost in my mind when I played drums, I simply loved playing.  Much of my free time was devoted to practicing.  I stayed after school, grabbed all the drums I could find, and built a make shift drum set to practice the timing of my hands and feet.  I was invited to play in the school Stage Band after only a few months of practice.  As my skills grew, my popularity at school soared.  Friends dubbed me "Rockin' Ronnie" because of my expressive style of play.  My popularity on drums would also win the heart of my very first girlfriend, one of the really popular pretty girls.  Brenda.  I will never forget that first kiss...

I was in teenage 'heaven'.  Life could not have been any better that year.  Jamming on the drums on my way to fame and fortune, the magic of teenage infatuation with a real live girlfriend, and partying with the cool kids.  Do you recall a moment in your childhood when everything felt perfect?  Yeah, for me, 8th grade felt like it would last forever.  And my 'life at the top' might have gone on for years...

But...

As I mentioned, alcohol and drugs were now an addiction, not a casual hobby.  Sadly enough they had become more important than my music.  Alcohol and drugs were also part of my image.  It was the 'rock and roll' thing to do, just like my heroes.  The penalty for my chosen lifestyle would be swift.  My 'life in heaven' quickly turned into 'life in hell'.  It only took a single day.

Only two weeks remained in the school year.  Too many drugs before school on that tragic day led to a brief trip to the hospital.  Those drugs also got me kicked out of school.  It was that simple, and that fast.  No more popularity.  No more Stage Band.  No more girlfriend.  I lost everything that I loved in the blink of an eye.  Alcohol and drugs ripped my life apart, but sadly I did absolutely nothing to prevent it from happening again. 

After that school year, I still practiced my drums seven days a week.  Amazingly, though, I would not play in public more than a dozen times over the next ten years.  As much as I dreamed of being a rock star, I spent more time chasing drugs and alcohol than chasing my dream of playing drums.  In the years to come my life would be more like 'a tragic ending waiting to happen', instead of 'a dream come true'...


The descent into madness would continue for many years.  But before I graduated High School, I would see for the first time a glimpse of life beyond the material world... 


Chapter 3, coming soon to The Eye of The Storm...



In closing, I need to take a minute to thank my parents: 

-  To my Dad (Richard) and my Step-Mom (Vicky), there are not enough words to thank them.  They lived with me through the early years of my addictions, and they did all they could to help me.  They tolerated my incessant tapping at the dinner table, and Dad bought me my very first drum set.  For 5 years they put up with me banging away on those drums.  They could not even watch TV because of the racket thundering from my bedroom.  I was too young and foolish to appreciate their love back then.  Their love and support through  good times and bad means more to me now than ever before.  I hope that one day they will see that my gift of music, the music they encouraged and made possible, is being used to bless people who need it most...

-  To my mom (Jackie), who passed away in 2003.  I am sure she knows how much I appreciate all she did for me, and my music.  My love for music and my 'education' at the big rock shows are due in large part to Mom.  The drum set I play on now was purchased with the money she left for me when she died.  She would have loved to see what I am doing now.  She will no doubt see me again when I join the Heavenly Host...


The Journey Continues...

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