DEAD MAN TALKING: A Few Weeks With Matthew Perry Riding Shotgun

The last few weeks I’ve been driving around with a friend. Well, truth be told, let’s make that a “Friend.”

The television show “Friends” was one of the biggest hits in the history of the medium and Matthew Perry, as Chandler Bing, was one of the show’s most beloved characters.

That is why back on October 28 of last year so many of us were saddened to hear the news out of Hollywood that Perry, only 54 years old, had died suddenly, and was found face down in his hot tub on a Saturday afternoon.

Just 54? That’s too young. Far too young. Trust me: I know. I’m 57. (Alive and kicking, no?).

No drugs were found at the scene, police said; though details later listed Perry’s cause of death as the “acute effects of ketamine.”

What does that mean exactly? Well it depends who you ask, but according to a report in the Los Angeles Times, ketamine is a drug that was developed as a “battlefield anesthetic in the 1960s. Ketamine is an injectable, short-acting dissociative anesthetic that can have hallucinogenic effects at certain doses. It distorts perceptions of sight and sound and makes users feel detached from pain and their surroundings. Ketamine has become increasingly popular as a therapy for treatment-resistant depression and other mental health issues. It is also used recreationally.”

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had Perry, postmortem, mind you, riding shot gun with me as I listen to the audiobook of his autobiography, “Friends, Lovers and The Big Terrible Thing: A Memoir.”

I still have about 45 minutes left to listen to, but in hindsight (multiple hindsights, if I’m being honest), I felt like I was listening to a dead-man talking as Perry told the story of his battle with addiction in such honest and head-on fashion for much of the book’s virtual pages.

If you’re thinking about buying the book to get the scoop on Monica, Phoebe, Rachel, Joey and Ross—don’t bother. Of course all are in there, as are the actors who play those memorable characters, and Perry’s rise from the son of the Canadian Prime Minister’s assistant to an actor and playwright (I didn’t know that either) are scattered in some of the early pages.

But this story is simply The Story of Matthew Perry’s Death as told by the author.

It’s sad. It’s depressing. But it’s also an honest-to-God, eye-opening look at the struggle with addiction. Back in the early-oughts, I found myself on the cusp of some of addictions woes and I am so proud of myself for overcoming those and living the life I am today. I’ve also known far too many people who were not as fortunate and could not win their own private battle.

So I got a lot of what Perry is saying to us.

As the author admits, drugs should have killed him longer before they finally did.

And he’s not wrong.

One of the things that caught me off guard was how terrible Perry sounded as he read his own words.

One reviewer of the audiobook, some woman named Ann Dudzinski, who I have never heard of before today, wrote this: “Possibly if I’d read it, I would have chuckled a few times but his delivery was so monotone and slurred that every joke fell flat or came across to me as snarky and bitter.”

If one word from the off-base review stands out, though, it is “slurred.”

Many times during the recording of the book (which has some chuckles from Perry’s Bing-like sense of humor, despite what Ms. Dudzinski says), Perry is very much slurring his way through passages and chapters. Other times, he sounds fine, though.

Given that no audiobook is recorded cover to cover in one sitting, I again asked myself, “Am I listening to a man kill himself?”–albeit it knowing the author had already left us for whatever comes next.

It gave the listening an overall haunting feeling to it and every time Perry would fall off the wagon—”relapse” is the 21st century word we use—you want to beg the actor to stop, knowing it won’t do any good.

It’s heartbreaking, for sure.

When the memoir first came out, I remember there being some controversy about something in the book. But I couldn’t remember what it was. When I was reminded that Perry made a crack about Keanu Reeves, I thought the line was kind of funny. Alas, Keanu Reeves is beloved by the world these days for some reason, so Perry took the references to him out of the book and I nary heard a word.

What I was glad to hear, though, was Perry blamed nobody but himself.

He talked about his parents divorce, but he never blamed them for his woes.

He talked about the millions of dollars he made on Friends, and he remembered the time he had the No. 1 TV show (Friends) and No. 1 Movie (The Whole Nine Yards) in the country at the same, joining only Michael J. Fox (Family Ties, Back to the Future) as the only actor to ever do so, but he didn’t blame his addiction on his fame or the pressures that came with her.

He also starred in some clunkers and he didn’t blame them either.

Instead, he looked squarely in the mirror and blamed the only personal responsible.

Himself.

And I admire him for that, though, knowing the road to that hot tub and that lethal dose of ketamine was far sadder than anybody truly knew. Even his closest friends and “Friends.”

I have about 45 minutes of time left with Matthew Perry and while I have feeling the book is coming to an ending with a positive message, knowing the truth truly makes the life of Matthew Perry that much sadder.