In this groundbreaking work, rock-n-roll writer and critic David Dodd presents some of the most powerful interviews with musicians, entertainers and athletes you will ever read. Shared here in their own words-and in many cases for the first time-are tales of life away from the spotlight and the glamour, of real people fighting the pain and desperation caused by addiction. Their candid descriptions of life before and after recovery-and their even greater achievements since becoming clean and sober-will leave an indelible impression on you.

In chapters dealing with the different stages of personal transformation, those interviewed are able to share with you their unique experiences. The individuals included here pull no punches: they talk honestly and directly about battling addiction and playing it straight.

I remember the moment as if I were still in it. My hands were trembling, voice cracking. My throat was dry. My thoughts were precisely focused on the one specific question that I was aching to have answered. The moment was 20 minutes overdue. The phone call should have come by now. My mind was thriving with deception and disbelief. I sat firmly in my chair, eyes glued to the telephone.

With the power of an ear-piercing shriek, the phone rang. My heart stood still. I grabbed it on the second ring. I needed to know the answer to that one burning question.

This was my fourth attempt at interviewing Steven Tyler, Aerosmith's animated troubadour. For the previous three bids, I was the music critic for two Michigan newspapers. Although his publicists would never admit it, my circulation wasn't large enough to deserve an audience with rock's original bad boy.

This time, though, I had my ammo: a weekly column distributed by the Los Angeles Times Syndicate. I was national. Steven Tyler's publicists agreed to an interview. But this time, unlike the previous hat tricks of attempts over the last five years, his music and the band's latest album, Pump, were the furthest things from my mind. Steven Tyler didn't know it, but he was about to change my life.

My deadline was less than four hours away. It was business as usual according to my editor. I was to Finish the phone interview and write the story. I had a concert to review that night.

"David Dodd, how are you?" Tyler asked in a friendly voice.

"Good, Steven, good," I replied with a subtle uncertainty. "Steven ...," I said, then paused.

I was always sharp during interviews. Always on top of the situation. I continually struck up interesting and exciting conversations. Not this time. My emotions were on overload.

"Sobriety and success, what a combination," I blurted out. "No shit," he replied.

My heart was pounding through my chest. I was sweating. I needed his help. Tyler had been sober for quite some time. I desperately wanted a piece of that. I urgently needed to know his secret. How did he do it? That was the question leaping for attention.

I figured if Tyler could quit, then some way, somehow, maybe he could give me the secret to end my battle with alcohol. My addiction was killing me, killing my relationships and killing every one of the goals I set. I was crashing and burning. I never would admit that to anyone. Not until this very moment.

"My God, I've been sober for three days," I said, immediately feeling the relief. "Help me, Steven. I need help.

It was the first step at jumping out of my denial. The first shine of a transformation.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Very serious," I replied, as the second wave of relief sprang From my shoulders.

"Well, good fucking for you, man," Tyler announced with joy.

My emotions were rocking. I went from complete desperation and fear to astonishing relief. Once again, my emotional roller coaster was soaring.

"Are you really serious about this?" Tyler asked again. "Very serious."

"Do you want to learn something that you'll wish on everybody because it's such an amazing secret, and it's so simple?" he continued. "Go to 90 meetings in 90 days. Do the 90/90.

"I fought it for five years. When they tell you to do the 90/90, there's something in that. You'll get it in the first 90 days. It's a real spiritual, cleansing, people-oriented trip that is second to none. There's nothing else on this planet that is as rewarding and cleansing and filled with joyful bliss. You'll meet super friends and you'll walk around higher than you ever got on any drug.

We spent the next 25 minutes talking about the fears and denial of the disease, the co-dependency issues and the rewards of recovery. Tears were flowing down my face. This was the guy I'd admired all through my high school days. The person that I always wanted to meet and interview, to party and hang out with. Those desires never came to pass, but when I needed his influence to begin my transformation, he was there. Steven Tyler was there for me. That blew me away.

Before we hung up, Tyler gave me the pseudonym he uses on the road when he checks into hotels and told me where he'd be staying in Detroit the following week. He set me up with four tickets and backstage passes, and said he'd like to spend some time with me while he was in town.

How's that for follow-up? I couldn't believe it.

I was riding on top of the world that week. Hitting as many meetings as I could, trying to absorb the steps. There was a lot to learn. Mostly, there was a lot of my old behavior that I had to unlearn.

The night of the show, three friends and I had great seats at Pine Knob and watched a sizzling set that hot August night. I couldn't concentrate on the songs; my mind was racing, wondering if Tyler would remember me. I knew he talked with hundreds of people each week. I was hoping that we'd be able to spend some time together. Looking back, there was a vital part of my sobriety that I didn't have back then - I didn't believe. I should have known that everything would work out just fine.

We were ushered into a room filled with 70 or 80 people, all eagerly waiting to meet the band. Fifteen minutes later, Joey Kramer, Brad Whitford and Tom Hamilton arrived with Perriers in their hands. They were immediately surrounded. Several minutes passed, but still no sign of Tyler. Eager eyes fell upon Joe Ferry as he walked in a few minutes later. I was getting nervous. I found a couple guys on the crew and told them I was a friend of Tyler's, that he wanted to get together with me after the show. They told me he had already left.

I quickly made my way to the parking lot behind the amphitheater, where the tour buses were parked. The rest of the band was headed in that direction, too. Within moments there were several hundred people swarming the parking lot.

Four bodyguards headed toward the door of the theater. They were keeping the crowd clear of their prize possession: Steven Tyler. I was 50 feet away from them and knew I had no chance of closing the distance because of the human bottleneck between us.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, "Hey, Steven, I'm David Dodd!" And just like in the movies, he stopped. The four guys surrounding him came to a sudden halt. "Over here!" I yelled, raising my hands in the air. I couldn't believe what was happening. "Wait a minute," Tyler said. "I want to talk to this guy."

One of the bodyguards motioned for me to join them. Instantly my friends and I were whisked inside while the other fans watched in amazement. Once inside, Tyler greeted me with a big hug. "How you doing?" he asked with a big smile. "Lets go where we can talk." We sat and talked on the Pine Knob stage for nearly an hour. It was an amazing night, an incredible time for me.

I couldn't believe that he would spend his time with me, with some one he didn't know, but Steven Tyler wanted to help me. He wanted me to be sober, to regain my strength and my sanity. His actions were the firm foundation I needed to begin this journey of transformation.

I will always be grateful for his words, his kindness and his genuine care. That night still blows me away.

Back in the Saddle

It has taken some time for this collection to reach you. Some of these interviews have been preserved for a couple years, others are fresh.

Nonetheless, the message is strong and effective. Many people have given me their time and honesty to pass on the secrets and success of their personal recovery. I am very grateful to each and every one of them.

We all experience pain and tears, hope and joy, fear and lack of self-esteem. We are all woven from the same thread. I learned a tremendous amount from these brothers and sisters. They welcomed me into their homes for honest and insightful conversations. This I-,ook has been a spiritual awakening for me.

Recovery is serious business. It continues to be the most difficult effort of my life. However, the more I live the steps in my everyday life and conform to the principles I've been taught, the easier it flows, the greater the rewards. I won't kid you: the beginning was an agonizing, brutal task. It wasn't easy for me.

Although many people close their eyes to the vision, the truth is that alcohol and drug abuse are rampant in our society. Many people in this book are on the front lines; they work in treatment centers, counsel people, hit meetings several times a week. We all have reached the same conclusion: the alcohol and drug epidemic has not declined, not in the least bit.

Just look at the facts.

Forty percent of male high school seniors get drunk on a regular basis. Americans under 21 drink more than one billion cans of beer a year. The National Council of Alcoholism says that 30 percent of the nation's nine-year-olds feel the pressure to drink. Nine-year-olds!

Eighty-eight percent of high school coaches surveyed said that alcohol poses the greatest threat to high school athletes. More than half of all teenage fatalities are alcohol-related. Imagine a jumbo jet crashing with no survivors--three times a week. That is the number of Americans killed in accidents involving drunk drivers-70 a day, 26,000 annually. Additionally, more than 1.5 million are injured.

At least 22 million Americans have a serious alcohol problem. Eight million are teenagers. Many of those interviewed in this book, including me, believe these figures are very conservative. The fact is, hundreds of thousands die each year from alcohol-related accidents and health problems. On an average Friday or Saturday night, 1 out of every 1O drivers on the road is drunk: think about that when you're on the road this weekend.

We live in a society that accepts drunken behavior. People use the excuse of being drunk for their inexcusable acts. "Why did you do that?" "Oh, I was drunk." How many times have you heard that? They address it as if it was an excusable situation. "I'm sorry I said that or I did that, but you know, I was drunk." And the other person supports it, "That's all right, I know what you mean."

How many fights and arguments have you seen in bars and clubs late at night? Problems arise on nearly every occasion when you have a gathering of people drinking - sporting events, concerts: the list is long. It's the alcohol talking.

People don't get behind the wheel with the intention of getting in a car accident or killing someone. When alcohol is in their system, the trouble begins. Why are so many people late for work on Mondays? Because they have a hangover. Statistics show that there is one day of the year when more people report to work late or miss the entire day altogether: the day after the Super Bowl. All because they have alcohol in their system.

We need to banish the excuses; to abolish the justification of every one allowing this behavior to continue. I said it before: 1 out of every 10 people on the road on weekend nights are operating a vehicle under the influence. One out of every 10. They say it's okay, they've just had a little to drink. Maybe they're a little drunk but that's accept able to them. When their judgment is all messed up and they cross the yellow line and hit a minivan head on, it's not okay. They've just shattered the lives of an entire family.

The excuse for being drunk is a bunch of baloney. We need to eliminate the word "drunk" from our vocabulary. These people are completely wasted, that's what they are.

If someone can't walk a straight line, can't see straight, can't hold an intelligent conversation and continues to feed his body alcoholic toxins, that person's thinking is completely wasted. They are wasting their lives, wasting their time, wasting the lives of their loved ones.

They're just wasting away.

A judge will call it driving under the influence. A Friend will call it being drunk. I call it wasted. Let's get out of the enabling here and call it what it is. Look a person straight in the eyes the next time he's drunk. Or if it's you, take a good, honest look in the mirror. What do you see? You see a person who's completely wasted. That's what you see. Don't give me any of this cute conversation about being drunk.

You know what you are.

I don't mean to sound angry here. My intention is not to relate with you in that manner, but how else can I put it? I can say people get drunk or intoxicated, but then I'd be supporting their conduct as many others do. I've seen so much of this crazy behavior that I'm no longer able to shadow it under a sugar coating that hides the poison pill it tnlly is. Accepting this behavior is ridiculous.

Don't forget that I was on the other end of this equation. I was the one whose life was wasting away. Maybe that's why I take such a firm stand on the excuses - I mastered them. Think about it. Being able to use the word "drunk" is one of the greatest crutches a drinker has because it's so acceptable in our society. The behavior of a practicing alcoholic is not acceptable.

It was acceptable for Nirvana's Kurt Cobain to use heroin. I heard him talk about it on numerous occasions during interviews. Several journalists have pointed it out in their articles. A few weeks before his death he was rushed to the hospital because of an OD. He made it sound so glamorous. It wasn't glamorous when Cobain blew his brains out. He was alone in his house. He died alone.

A Few years back, Def Leppard guitarist Steve Clark died because he overloaded his body with toxins. The coroner's report stated that Clark died of a fatal mixture of alcohol and drugs. The alcohol level in his blood was three times the British legal limit for driving. The autopsy revealed traces of Valium and morphine along with a fatal quantity of codeine. He was taking painkillers as a result of a hack injury. Clark's body virtually shut down because it couldn't digest any additional chemicals or liquid toxins. He was feeding his body poisons quicker than it could process all of them, so his brain told the rest of his body to shut down.

The celebrities continue to die: Brian Jones, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin. AC/DC's Bon Scott died of acute alcohol poisoning; Dennis Wilson drowned while intoxicated; Thin Lizzy's Phil Lynott, John Belushi, Sid Vicious, River Phoenix, John Bonham, Keith Moon, they all died of abusing alcohol and drugs. Blind Melon vocalist Shannon Hoon recently died of a drug overdose. He was found in the back of his tour bus at 1:20 in the afternoon, just hours before a scheduled concert. The band had successful debut album and had just released their highly anticipated sophomore disc. They planned on supporting the work with an 18-month tour. He had all the success he needed, and a beautiful 4-year-old daughter. His manager had put him into rehab twice, but Shannon Hoon made the mistake of not realizing how deadly this disease is.

It's sad because these were all good people. Good people who died because of a disease they couldn't control.

Sweet Emotion

Steven Tyler gave me a tremendous gift. His attention brought many of my emotions to the surface. It was the beginning of a great self-realization. That's one of the gifts that recovery has given me - grand awareness of my emotions. I am now able to touch, feel, smell, listen and relish the joys of life. Before my recovery program, I was teeming with a negativity that hampered my dreams and goals. I was still very active in my writing career, still achieved the highest level possible without realizing how greatly alcoholism limited my potential. It put a complete halt to my achievements. Although I wouldn't admit it, I was miserable. I wanted to escape reality, wanted no responsibility. That was my denial. I didn't know that. I was unaware of life's immense rewards, oblivious to the great bliss that surrounded me.

During the last few months of my drinking, I had a friend who often asked, "David, who's your worst enemy?" I kept mentioning a couple people I didn't get along with, kept trying to think of who she was talking about. Even though she kept telling me, I never fully realized that my own greatest enemy was me.

I was fortunate to have been given a second chance. Many others have not been so lucky. I was given the opportunity to regain my spirit. Somewhere inside, your spirit is watching you. Mine was buried under layers of negativity, self-doubt and anger. Now it flourishes with daily miracles.

I am ready and open to accept these miracles. I have the intent. There are people who say miracles never happen to them; they don't believe in them. Yet the people who believe, those who truly believe they are intended for a miracle, continue to Live these miracles on a regular basis. They may not be these elaborate, earth shattering miracles you hear about on television, but these small, very significant occurrences are still miracles.

Let's not lose sight of who we truly are. Each and every one of us intends to move forward with great success. Many times, however, we lose that focus.

Many people are comfortable with being mediocre. For some, an average student holding onto a C grade is acceptable. Average is acceptable. In many cases, students and parents alike are overjoyed that the kids didn't get a D. Just making it through the school year with an average grade is acceptable to many people.

I spend a lot of time with successful people who can't even imagine being mediocre. It simply is not a way of life for them.

I used to have a 50-minute ride to work in the morning and another 45-minute ride going home. In my last couple years at that job, instead of listening to morning radio and switching the channels constantly, I'd listen to motivational tapes. It really changed the way I focused on my day. I now welcome the opportunity of success. When I listen to Earnie Larsen, Les Brown, Tony Robbins, Father Lee, Wayne Dyer or countless others, they uplift my spirit at six in the morning. You can't help but be motivated when you listen to these guys. Now I can't wait to get in the car and listen to a tape. I'm almost a fanatic about it. Instead of getting excited about the new Pearl Jam release, I call the bookstores to see when Deepak Chopra's new tape will be released. Crazy at times, but it's amazing how it works for me.

Still, there are countless others who wallow in mediocrity remember walking to school in the fifth grade. I would pass a giant pond next to our school and look through the wire fence surrounding it. In the far corner was this slimy green scum collecting on the surface. Every day it would be there looking the same: no change, no movement, nothing at all. That's what happens to people who accept mediocrity in their lives--they become pond scum. It's that simple. Look at the comparisons: many people are happy with lust a passing grade, whether in school, at work or in relationships. People accept mediocrity on a daily basis. Just as I don't accept the word "drunk" in our vocabulary, "mediocrity" should be replaced with "pond scum."

There are many things that get in the way of success, but they only get there if we let them. We each have a distinct personality, a solitary spirit that needs to emerge. This book is filled with many remarkable spirits. All the participants agreed to these interviews with the sole intention of helping others who currently share or have shared the same experiences, both before and after sobriety. You will learn some tremendous lessons from these people.

I still go back and read certain interviews over and over. It gives me strength. These are the voices of people who have been there for me. They've given me significant advice and powerful thoughts. Now they're here for you.

Enjoy this collection, and if you ever run into one of the people on these pages, don't forget to thank them.

© 1996 Health Communications, Inc.

Tags: Alcoholism, Addictions

About the Author

David Dodd is a writer, motivational speaker and recovering alcoholic living in Michigan with his wife and daughter. Currently the author of the monthly newsletter Excelerator, he also wrote VideoSyncracies, a weekly column distributed by the Los Angeles Times Syndicate. Dodd's columns, interviews and profiles have appeared in more than 85 mewspapers across the nation. He is a highly requested speaker in schools, churches, treatment centers and 12-Step conferences. He is currently working on his second book.