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Although I was born in Los Angeles, when I was six we moved to Grants Pass, Oregon where I lived a Tom Sawyer life, riding the Rogue River on every conceivable contraption we could get into the water.
Swimming, diving and water fun was my way of life. When 12 years old, we moved to Montebello where I attended Montebello Jr. High School.
Montebello was a terrific town, where I met my best friend, Dick Edlund. He's called Richard now that he has a number of Academy Awards in his pocket, and a collection of other awards too numerous to count.
Richard and I would hitch hike to Long Beach most summer days, body surfing and wrapping up our day with several rides on the old Cyclone Racer roller coaster at the Pike.
At 14 years old, he and I were given the opportunity to participate in the Scholastic Sports Association of the Los Angeles Examiner. It was an organization for gifted young photographers and journalists. Richard and I were both photogs and I loved writing as well. The Hearst sponsored program gave the two of us a wonderful opportunity.
For me, I studied journalism in college, then turned to broadcast at LACC. I got my first radio job at KNJO in Thousand Oaks and worked my way back to Los Angeles in the next four years.
I was fortunate to have scored well at KFXM in San Bernardino then off to KGBS L.A. - KMPC - KDAY - K102 - KFI - My first big success was with the top morning show in Houston, Texas.
Eventually I was offered a deal in Miami, Florida that I couldn't say no to and spent several years there with the top morning show. Finally, I bought a radio station in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Now here's the kicker. I did it all with a drunken, pot smoking monkey on my back.
The story has a happy ending though and it's all in my book, Drunk & Disorderly, Again - My name is Hoot, I'm an alcoholic. Here's what they're saying about the book:
As Brad Edwards, Hoot hid behind a microphone on the radio, where his rock-pile of odd behaviors and idiosyncrasies not only fit in, but enhanced his on-air persona in Houston and Miami, as his morning shows scored spectacular ratings.
After failing in most areas of his life, he experienced an astonishing, spiritual encounter while in Hawaii. This extraordinary event finally brought him sobriety, clarity and an emotional reunion with GOD.
Drunk & Disorderly, Again, is a roadmap to sobriety, but it's the detours, that make it a wild ride. Don't miss his escape from the machine gun toting Iranian secret police.
Alcoholism 101
I was enjoying another great day in paradise, as I sat at the Tiki Bar near the pool at the King Kamehameha Hotel on the Big Island of Hawaii. This is the day I would be given a preview of the rest of my life.
The inventory list of people, places and things I’d lost or screwed up as a result of my drinking was getting longer every day. The wreckage of my past was cluttered all along the highway of my life.
As usual, I was feeling no pain, drinking and checking out the babes poolside, when in walks this guy I had played golf with that morning at the Kona Country Club.
He was especially memorable, because he showed up at the golf course, smelling like bourbon. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just that it was 7 AM! Hey! I was a drunk with standards! No booze before, oh, I don’t know, 9 AM?
He wasn’t a bad golfer either, for a guy who was “3 sheets to the wind” that early in the day.
“Hey Paul, What’re you drinking” I queried.
“Jim Beam, straight up,” he responded, “how you doing?” I motioned to Kemo the bartender. Paul looked like he’d had his own battle with booze. I could only imagine his nightmares.
As he sat down next to me, he told Kemo,
“If you see my glass half empty, bring me another.” God, he even drank like me; one right after another. Then Paul smiled and added,
“Don’t get behind, Kemo!” We laughed.
We drank through the afternoon, telling stories and taking turns buying each other drinks. Paul’s face looked like it had worn out a few bodies in his lifetime. Very rough!
He picked up the beer he’d switched to and stared at the label for a moment as if to collect his thoughts, then said, pensively,
“I’ve had a love hate relationship with this shit all my life. I’ve never been able to get a grip on my drinking. I’ll do alright for awhile, and then have to fight my way out of some kind of a nightmare or another! God, I’m sick of it. Kemo, bring me another one.”
“I tried AA,” he went on, “but that didn’t work, I’m married to my fourth wife,” he paused for a second as if to reconsider whether it was worth it or not to spill his guts to me. Then he went on.
“She more or less leaves me alone, she only cares whether there’s enough money to buy what she wants, which is cool by me, so long as she stays off my ass. My kids won’t have anything to do with me. My son’s been on a 5 year bender of his own and my daughter thinks I’m a loser! You know what Hoot? She may be right!”
I wondered why Paul was confessing his personal failures to me that afternoon in Hawaii. I knew firsthand the agony of a drunk, the misery and feelings of being a failure. I was really getting bummed out, when I realized that Paul was telling me a story that I could complete if his memory lapsed. He was telling my story!
I took a close look at Paul and even though he smiled a lot, the happiness in his eyes was overruled by the emptiness coming from his heart.
The years of misery showed clearly in his face; a face that looked like it had faked one too many smiles.
The oddest feeling came over me as the two of us drank that night in Hawaii. I could see he was drifting off into his own black-out world, but as he did, I went in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to spend another precious moment on earth, drunk! Instead of going into my own black-out, I drank myself sober. I can’t explain it. I had enough booze in me to stagger an elephant.
Finally, I just couldn’t drink another drop. I felt my own drunkenness leave me. I wanted to give that man the gift of sobriety so badly. I wanted to take that man to a meeting of my Alcoholics, and show him where there was hope.
I felt so empty right then, because I had failed so many times to get sober. I felt pity on that man, knowing his pain and knowing the futility of it all, but I was surely pitying myself for the uselessness of my own life.
As he shook my hand and staggered off to his room, I knew I had finally had “a spiritual experience.” I got down on my knees that night, at the hotel and begged the Lord to remove my compulsion to drink.
I can’t tell you how many times I had asked God to relieve me of the compulsion, but this time, I meant it. This time, I knew there were no more reservations; no more, one more times! No this time, I honestly had surrendered, even though it sounded suspiciously like all the other times
It was a miracle. “Please Lord, let me know the freedom of life without alcohol and please, don’t let me end up like Paul.” This was, as it turned out, the most important prayer of my life!!
I remembered the line from The Big Book of AA, and I paraphrase: “Some of us suffer from intense mental and emotional problems, but many do recover, if they can be honest with themselves.”
No matter how badly I wanted sobriety without being completely honest, I would not have my way, because my way called for “One more drunk,” not today, or next week, but, someday, and the Lord knew it. No, the only way, was the way it happened.
I wondered to myself if I had called the King Kamehameha Hotel and asked if Paul had ever been registered there, would the answer have been, No? It had been such a supernatural experience.
And that is my story..
