You Never Know
JUST about eight years ago, my dinner was interrupted by a phone call from the local Justice of the Peace. The conversation went something like this:
"Hello. Pete! I have an awful nice young Irishman in jail here, and I thought you might help him out. He has two faults--he drinks too much, and he gets into fights with policemen. Do you think you can do something for him?"
I replied that either problem was a serious one, and perhaps if we could help him with his drinking problem, the other one would take care of itself.