With 'Er' Ead Tucked Underneath 'Er Arm. . .

I USED LIQUOR AS MY WHIPPING BOY and like the Sorcerer's Apprentice it turned on me and became a thousand whipping boys. It was an escape hatch to Scheherazade's chambers. But like a thousand drinks, a thousand nights were not enough. I found I could use it in my nine-to-five life. I had it to blame, to curse, to use, to depend, on, to cry out against--to believe in. I built up a knowledge of its culture: saloon life. I stopped all other channels of growing and learning.