26. Me An Alcoholic?
Barleycorn’s wringer squeezed this author—but he escaped quite whole. WHEN I TRY to reconstruct what my life was like “before,” I see a coin with two faces. One, the side I turned to myself and the world, was respectable—even, in some ways, distinguished. I was father, husband, taxpayer, home owner. I was club-man, athlete,
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