My Annual Share

**Re-enactment: Don’t Try This at Home**

MY ANNUAL SHARE

In the wee hours of December 7, 1991 (semi-ironically, Pearl Harbor Day), without knowing it; I took my final drink.

Silverlake, LA: Wrap party for a low-budget film, “Me, Myself and I” (we called it “Me, Myself and Why?”) George Segal, Jobeth Williams, Kile Ozier - Location Manager https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0104835/fullcredits/?ref_=tt_cst_sm )

As I recall; the menu for the evening was a steak dinner among a few of us at about 8, followed by a moveable feast of Wine, Beer, Gin and about a pound of cocaine spread throughout the festive hours and across town from West to East LA until closing time at the bar.

Closing time came. Walking (probably a generous term) from the bar, I witnessed a speeding motorcycle tip over and slide in a cascade of brilliant sparks and come to rest, wedged beneath a black-on-black pickup truck, across the street from me. For some reason, I believed I’d “better get out of there before the police arrive…” Not a bad idea, actually, given the level of Drunk I was.

I threw my jacket into the trunk of my Beemer (hey, it was LA, BMW is a requirement) and took off (no seatbelt). About ½ block from the bar, I came to an intersection wherein a little Toyota was signaling a left turn…and not moving, despite the absence of oncoming traffic. Impatiently, I floored it and swept around the obstruction, not noticing that I’d clipped their bumper (read: hit and run), and sped away…

Next thing I know, that big, black-on-black truck was on my tail. ( https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0067023/?ref_=ext_shr_lnk) Have you seen “Duel”?

Attempting to escape whomever was in that truck and “after me,” I sped down an alley and, while checking him out in the rearview mirror, turned the steering wheel ever-so-slightly such that I slammed at full speed, head-on into a utility pole.

The car abruptly stopped. I did not.

Face through the windshield, much laceration, broken knee, all internal organs ripped through my diaphragm, folded my esophagus and collapsed my left lung. I had to be cut from the car. Came-to in the Emergency Room with a policewoman shouting at me, “SIR, HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING? HAVE YOU BEEN TAKING DRUGS?!” Which, of course I denied.

Blood alcohol level: 0.1…twice the legal limit. Oh, and even shorter story; I was dying.

At that moment; I realized that everything unsaid would be left unsaid. Every apology, unspoken; every “I love you,” not shared: Babies unheld, weddings uncelebrated, sunrises missed, sunsets without me…that this could be It. I took that immediately, painfully, fully to heart…there is no negotiation.

Quietly, I spoke to my lover, Terry, who had died the year before; though I’d felt his presence with me, many times, since. “…well, Baby…I may be seeing you soon…” and went under…

My friend, Kevin showed up the next day. A pincushion of needles and network of tubes and wires; I looked at him and said, “I’ve made a big mistake. If I make it through this; I need to stop drinking and I need to see a shrink.”

“I think those are very good ideas…,” he said.

My life; this time, was spared. Ten days in intensive care, two more weeks in Hospital. FOLLOWED by four days and nights in LA County Jail. (No Chris Meloni, No Morgan Freeman, No Tim Robbins…just me, four other White Guys and 60 other inmates; ½ Latino, ½ Black, and no love lost between ‘em.)

Another story entirely: https://imho.kileozier.com/?p=680 In greater detail.

Released the day before my 40th Birthday; I left the film business behind and returned to what I do best; connecting people to story in unexpected ways, finding or creating new neural pathways to deeper emotions; and in that year (1992) creating what I consider my crowning achievement; The Candlelight Ceremony for the National AIDS Memorial Quilt at the Lincoln Memorial that October…bringing 250,000 to sudden and absolute silence in one cue.

When asked why I don’t drink; I don’t mind being asked. I welcome the opportunity to respond. Sometimes I share this story (sometimes the longer version - so consider yourselves lucky).

Other times I may say, “Drunk, I ran my car into a utility pole, put myself into ICU for ten days, then two weeks more in hospital, then four days in jail. It was easy to quit.” OR, just, “I finished my quota by the time I was 40.”

I am not the liquor police. Everyone has their own path through their own lives; their own opportunities to recognize and embrace a different way. People know in their heart of hearts, if they have a problem; in my experience, they rarely need to be told so. Sometimes…often…seeing their own story before them can catalyze personal action.

Sometimes, encountering others who lead Sober Lives as attractive and appealing alternatives, I think, can inspire such people to see and seek sober possibilities; asking for help when they’re ready. Some can have revelation and restoration quietly and within themselves; others find comfort and confidence in Anonymous groups - and thank gawd those are everywhere available.

And plenty of people simply don’t have a problem!

The Seasons Encroach. Keep an Eye out for Yourself. You are Loved. Don’t leave them behind.

A.I. Yi Yi!