In the summer of 2004, I left two restaurant jobs and moved across the country with my ex. We both grew up in Michigan. We were moving to sunny California, each for different reasons. Her Honda CR-V was packed full of all of her belongings, and even a piece of furniture I took apart and later reassembled. My belongings, or at least what I could fit into her car, were some clothes in a suitcase. We also packed a box of tampons with rolled joints and picked up a case of Charles Shaw (Two Buck Chuck for you Trader Joe’s insiders) for the long nights spent camping across the country. 

The next two years were a progressive spiral downward with stops at various junctions of substance use and alcoholism. I look back at that time with a few different lenses: nostalgia, regret, and growth. I never trust someone in recovery who refuses to share a fun drunk story, or worse, denies they had them. Were there bad times? Sure. None of us would be where we are without them. But to deny the good times feels like a crime against our own identity. All of that said, I wouldn’t change a thing about my time in Los Angeles, but I would also never relive it. 

Now, three months short of 20 years since I arrived, I returned to the City of Angels for a cause that stands in direct opposition to the debauchery I got up to when I lived there: Sobriety. Through my connections and involvement with this delightful brand (The Sober Curator), combined with my former need for validation (this time in the form of NA beer review videos), I was able to come to the West Coast to try some of the latest and greatest in NA selections. Perhaps more importantly, I came to meet in-person some of the best connections I have made in this sober life. 

The trip started out as all do – in the planning phase. Photographer Phillip Vitela utilized his connections with the L.A. Spirits Awards to discuss the possibility of The Sober Curator covering the non-alcoholic section of their nomination roster. Previous years promised a good showing of NA beverages.  Dozens of brands vied for the Platinum Medal and the Best in Show Award. Alysse Bryson, founder of The Sober Curator, made me the voice and choice for coverage, considering the gigabytes of space taking up the Happy Every Hour section of the website that features my face and prose. 

I am currently in grad school to be a therapist and, as of January, I am seeing clients. I also work full time and take on extra projects like a chipmunk takes another nut in the cheek. With all of this going on, I was excited but cautious. My hopes were dampened even more when our first round of contact with the organizers of the L.A. Spirit Awards, Joel Blum and Nicolette Teo, informed us of a less than expected showing of NA entrants in this year’s competition. Thankfully, the list grew as the event got closer and before I knew it, I had a plane ticket and was on my way back to the city that saw the worst of me at one time in my life. I was ready to return as a better version.

The trip was worth it. Upon arrival I met Alysse for the first-time face to face. Our friendship and working relationship started four years ago. She was accompanied by fellow Sober Curator Contributors Amy Liz Harrison, Kate and Phillip Vitela. After some discussion about Amanda Knox being on their plane (shout out to Amanda Knox; I’d love to have you on Friend Request), we went and got the only rental car a 40-year-old man gets to drive around a bunch of wonderful sober folks: a minivan. 

After arrival at our hotel and meeting up with Contributor Megan Swan, who arrived a day earlier, the next thing on the agenda was a big dinner with more familiar faces. Booked reservations for all already mentioned at a little Mexican spot, along with Contributors Analisa Six and Daniel Garza, as well as Daniel’s partner, Christian. It was a full table with fuller hearts. 

There was a shared experience by many at the table that some of us commented on a couple more times before leaving: the lack of difference. Sure, we were in a new city where only a couple of us lived, and yes, we were in-person and not on Zoom (how most of us knew each other,) but the connection, conversation, and ease of sharing and vulnerability was all there, just as it has been since the beginning. This was a special dinner that brought all of us together for the first time ever, but it felt like a dinner we’d had a hundred times before. 

“This was a special dinner that brought all of us together for the first time ever, but it felt like a dinner we’d had a hundred times before. ”
Justin Lamb

As an added level of gratitude and love, I looked around the room and began a mental count: Alysse, Kate, Megan, Rebecca, Daniel, Analisa, and Liz. They were all Sober Contributors, sure, but they were also all guests on my podcast, Friend Request. I sat across from a computer screen while they told me intimate details about their lives; the things they had overcome and achievements they made, and now I was getting to meet them in-person. It was overwhelming. I was so aware of my feelings, emotions, thoughts, and ability to be present. All things I didn’t have awareness of, or maybe even the ability to, when I first came to Los Angeles 20 years ago. 

The next morning, being on Eastern time, I woke up at 5:00 a.m. and drove down to Venice Beach. It was the emptiest and quietest I’ve ever seen it. There were dawn skateboarders doing kickflips and an occasional unhoused person that was making their way toward me as I got close to them, but it was quiet and dark. I had hoped to watch the sun come from behind the city and hit the water, but sunrise wasn’t until after seven, so I made other plans and headed to where I called home in 2004: the valley. 

Coming up into Hollywood from the beach as parents were bringing their kids to small canyon schools was reminiscent of driving models and actors around as a production assistant. Then, up Laurel Canyon to Mulholland Drive, I was able to take the twists and turns with memorable ease, stopping at a lookout point to reflect on the time I got in trouble for still being drunk on set right off this same road two decades prior. Arriving down in the valley and taking Ventura Blvd to all of my old apartments, including my weed dealer’s old place, I was struck by a strange, but very fitting theme. With all that had changed in the last 20 years— the Scrubs hospital being demolished, half a dozen more In-n-Out Burgers going up, and a few hundred thousand new residents— the things that looked exactly as they did when I lived there were my apartments. All stuck in time, just like I was when I lived here. 

The rest of the week went according to our itinerary, with our list of present and accounted for Sober Contributors dropping off one by one as they went back to wherever home was. We covered the awards, even getting to share our thoughts on some NA selections with the judges, who know way more than any of us do. What even is a palette? I ended my time in Los Angeles with Alysse, eating In-N-Out Burger and driving around Hollywood while remembering why you should never drive around Hollywood (traffic is the same as 20 years ago!). 

As I boarded my plane early enough to get back to Michigan, attend a class and see a client, I looked out the window at the city that I thought I couldn’t be in without being broken and felt the warmth of knowing how far I’d come. The drugs, alcohol, and Craigslist ads that encompassed and ate away at my self-worth when I lived here were nothing more than memories in the rearview mirror of a minivan full of amazing people. It’s pretty cool that one of those amazing people is me. 

Friend Request podcast interviews with Sober Curator Contributors:

https://open.spotify.com/episode/6EIFInvD4PHE0GMB2qQQ71

Happy Every Hour at The Sober Curator Alcohol Free Beverage Reviews

HAPPY EVERY HOUR – NA BEERS & 90s:

Sober Curator Contributor Justin Lamb is dedicated to tasting great (and sometimes not so great) NA beers and showcasing his amazing collection of memorabilia from the ’80s & ’90s. His beer mug is full, there’s just no booze in it. TRIGGER WARNING: People in early sobriety may want to proceed with caution. Always read labels. Please hydrate responsibly … because drunk never looks good.