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December 1967

Merry Christmas to All!

Not the tinsel wonderland, but the mature message. . .

CHRISTMAS! When I was drinking, just thinking of the word could bring impotent tears of frustration to my eyes, increasing the blurred fuzziness of my outlook. A dollar bill tossed into the Salvation Army pot (I guess every ex-GI does that), and I was one of the herald angels. Warmed by my own magnanimity, with my heels hooked onto a bar stool, my vision of the present might be fogged, but I could look into the past and see, bright and sharp as a Christmas card. . .

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