Initially I was reluctant to have anyone see this reel. Venerability, crying and imbibing the emotions produced by the haunting lyrics and rawness, no longer tamed by alcohol for the last ... See full summary

Initially I was reluctant to have anyone see this reel. Venerability, crying and imbibing the emotions produced by the haunting lyrics and rawness, no longer tamed by alcohol for the last 16 years, vanity nor pretense- honesty just flowed. The feelings had always been suppressed, often unconsciously in a state of limbo with nowhere to go just eating away at anything that resembled life. Coupled with the location, the Irish Arts Center and the neighborhood, Hell's Kitchen where I had driven horse and carriages in the 80's and frequented every worthwhile public house. Suddenly I was back in the confusion of my youth and the desperation of alcoholic hopelessness. For 30 seconds, years of desperation were recalled and I was overwhelmed by the sadness of it all. The IAC was where I had my first acting job in Judy GeBauer's play about Bobby Sands and the hunger strike and directed by Nye Heron. Having spent a couple of years out of the spotlight of main event boxing, getting that part in an...