Your Love Won't Change Anybody
How to not freak out over jokes made by comedians about someone's drug and alcohol use. Buddhist stuff. A short, solid poem. New tunes.
I almost did something dumb and unhealthy last week, unhealthier than usual. Here's what nearly happened: I thought it was my duty to do a dumb and unhealthy thing because – get this – I was offended by a joke a professional comedian made during the Oscars about another actor's drug problems. If you don't know what I'm referencing, I'll un-vague it for you, and then we'll restart.
Jimmy Kimmel hosted the Oscars and made this joke about the actor Robert Downey Jr. as he sat in the front row, awaiting his turn to come and collect his gold statue for his work in Christopher Nolan's big bomb picture, Oppenheimer.
"This is the highest point of Robert Downey Jr.'s long and illustrious career — well, one of the highest points."
Yes, considering RDJ's illustrious history of substance misuse and the jail time that came because of it (I mean, the man did some truly monumentally deranged stuff in his heroin days), it's a halfway decent joke. I have retold it to a few people who hadn't heard it to get their thoughts, which usually results in a "heh" of some variety.
But the moment it happened, it caused me embarrassment that slowly rose to the level of my feeling (forgive the phrase) personally attacked. "I must do something!" my brain said.
After a week of sitting with it, I was finally ready to erupt: It was time for me to write a strongly worded article about my thoughts on why Jimmy Kimmel's joke was distasteful according to me, a grateful shimmering person in recovery, on behalf of the actor Robert Downey Jr.
I tend to formulate my best ideas either in the shower, while walking the dogs, or, when I'm really crunching on something, pacing around the house and then saying all the words out loud, but never above a hissing incoherent whisper. One sounds like I'm rehearsing, but the whisper thing sounds possessed.
When I'd finally gathered enough words to write a half-written article to editors of several august and reputable publications, I found a wire story with the headline, "Steve-O Breaks Silence On Jimmy Kimmel's Controversial Robert Downey Jr. Joke."
Ah, now you did it, Jimmy. You've pissed off Steve-O from Jackass, who, for my money, is one of the best ambassadors of sobriety walking around in the world. For real: Listen to him, clear as a bell, spit some serious wisdom.
Given how devoted he is to recovery, I was ready for him to wreck Jimmy Kimmel. But he did not. It turns out that Steve-O wasn't personally offended by the joke and, in fact, thought people (like me) needed to lighten up.
"We spend enough time reminding ourselves and each other about [our problems with misusing substances] so we can stay sober, so what's the problem if somebody else does that?
"[H]ey, you know what? Let's not take ourselves too seriously," Steve-O went on. "Let's let comedians tell jokes, and let's just be grateful for having great lives."
Once again, Steve-O is the most sober man on the planet.
I didn't write the article. Instead, I seriously considered why I got so agitated by this very minor, very harmless joke, so much so that I wanted to volcanically gasbag about it for thousands of people. Is my shit that weak?
I heard this early on, fresh out of rehab, from another wise person who saved me from grandstanding on a podcast about my recovery: "More often than not, the best way to stay sober is by doing nothing."
But, while we're here, let's revisit one of Robert Downey, Jr.'s last, most demoralizing moments of his drug addiction–the time he was found sleeping in the bed of a stranger's house in Malibu when he mistakenly walked into their home thinking it was his own. The homeowner's name was Bill Curtis, who inadvertently was one of Robert Downey, Jr.'s many angels who saved him.
From the LA Times' July 16, 1996 article titled, "A Troubled Actor's Rude Awakening":
Downey entered the multileveled home through an open door and probably descended a circular staircase of about 70 stairs before finding a spare bedroom. There he laid his pants neatly over a chair and, wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts, tucked himself into the sheets and fell asleep.
"He got real cozy," Bill Curtis said.
Curtis' wife noticed Downey sleeping when she entered the room, sometime around 9 p.m., thinking one of her children was playing a game. She called sheriff's deputies and a neighbor, who found Downey's identification. Paramedics revived the actor.
"He was sitting up--groggy, looking very white and gaunt," Curtis said. "At no time was he doing anything the least bit threatening."
Curtis said Downey even made funny faces at his daughter as he was led away by sheriff's deputies. "He still took out time to be entertaining," Curtis said.
[B]ill Curtis said he hopes the district attorney's office does not file trespassing charges against Downey.
"This is a nice guy who has troubles," he said. "It was a very unfortunate incident, whatever caused the problem. We hope he gets better."
Downey is now 21 years sober.
*****
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If it's not for you, we'll still love you no matter what. We'll catch up on Tuesday. Let's be grateful for having great lives! — AJD
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