From the February 1960 magazine.

16 Purple Cylinders

MY thirty-five years of sixteen-cylinder drinking was caused, I used to think, because I was in various departments of show biz--up or down as my "luck" dictated--and that "we" were different from the rest of the human race. This little piece has a moral, if you can wait. . .

I have some lulu-type stories of the wonderful big-name drunks I staggered around with and tried to be like. I made it alcohol-wise, but never equaled them in talent. I was in good vaudeville, and bad one-night tank towns and once headed a syndicate of nine dance orchestras in Philadelphia and rode around in a deep-purple Cadillac with a chauffeur dressed to match. Also the taste in my mouth usually was deep purple, which I believe ranks one step below dark brown. It often could be a warning of the DTs, for whatever medical value this statement may have.

-- P. B.

Troy, Pennsylvania

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