The comeback King

BY CATHERINE WOULFE

MIKE King is a man of many words and a machine-gun laugh.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha" he rattles, mouth and eyes wide, hand slapping his knee.

This 47-year-old funnyman has had a seriously life-changing few years.

King survived a massive stroke in 2007, went public with his depression in 2008 and sensationally turned on the New Zealand Pork Board in May 2009. One month later, in the Sunday News, King made another bold move, revealing that he had spent 30 years addicted to marijuana and 10 hooked on cocaine.

Today is his 1028th day clean and sober.

"I've certainly changed a lot," King says over instant coffee and toast at his rented house in Mt Albert, Auckland.

"I'm a lot happier than I used to be. One to 10? Where I was before: minus 50. Where I am now? Oh ... a seven? Yeah."

Each revelation has meant headlines and heartache for King's family. Today he doesn't want to talk about them much, except to say it's been hard but the family is as close as ever and totally supportive.

"My 11 year-old daughter, when I told her I was a drug addict – you know, we discussed things – she said, `Dad I think [quitting] is a good idea. If you ever need a cup of tea I will get it for you ... It doesn't matter what time of day or night I will get it for you.'

"She's a little policewoman, she's making sure Daddy's on the right track all the time."

King's two adult children (a son, 23, and daughter, 21) live in Auckland and his wife lives with their 11-year-old in Waipu.

King's so busy, and travelling so much these days – hosting a RadioLive Nutters Club show for fellow mentally ill Kiwis, talking at schools and youth groups, and of course making paying audiences laugh – that he's renting the Auckland place as a back-up.

King's television career is going strong, but it has changed course dramatically since his shows like Game of Two Halves and The Mike King Tonight Show.

"I think the turning point for me, realising I was on the wrong path, was when I was lying in hospital in Melbourne [after the stroke] feeling really sorry for myself and you know, I'd worked for TVNZ for 13 years. I never got one phone call saying get well soon, no card, no flowers ... It's not like they didn't know my number because their news department were ringing me every day going `Are you dead yet'?

"When that happens you kind of go, `You know what? Maybe you've got this whole fame and ego thing wrong. Maybe it's time to start changing."'

So King's doing unpaid work for Maori Television, including hosting this year's Waitangi Day debate. He calls it "food for the soul".

To cope with his depression, he helps others in the Nutters Club (see Facebook), takes 20mg of the antidepressant Citalopram every day and goes to counselling. "My counsellor told me the reason I was doing the drugs is that in my head I had a boiling cesspool of sh** and the drugs and alcohol were a lid on it ... Her job is to take the lid off and stir it all up and find out what's causing the cesspool."

All that stirring has brought his fundamental weaknesses to the surface, King says: "I've always been a really insecure little boy, always striving for attention, always wanting to be liked by everyone, always wanting to be the best in the world at everything."

King says his strength – also part of what made him such a tenacious addict – is his determination.

"My goal is the same every day: to make it to the end of the day. You know," he throws his arms out wide and beams, "it's a beautiful day".

King is spiritual. He reckons there is something out there. He believes in fate and signs, like the time he was moping around Melbourne and the voices in his head (he says there are two: one who wants him to cut loose, while the other urges him to be careful) were telling him to jump off a building.

"I walked past the bookshop and there's the Dalai Lama in his red robes, and he's looking at me, and the cover of the book? The Art of Happiness. You know, it's just kind of like `ho-ly sh**."

He loves the Buddhist doctrine and finds it hilarious Buddhists spend their lives searching for the path to nirvana, but when they find it are forbidden to share it.

"Could you imagine? I mean, no other religion can do that. I mean Brian Tamaki talks to God every day and he tells you every day `Oh, I've just spoken with God this morning and God said you should give money to me'. You know? But these guys [Buddhists] get there, and ssssshh ..."

King puts his finger to his mouth, chortling, then switches back to serious.

"At the heart of that is humility and I guess, I guess that's what I'm looking for. Humility. And it's hard when you're a brash stand-up comedian but you know, if you can find humility, you can find peace."

He pauses. "So I haven't found it yet. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha."

- © Fairfax NZ News