From Cherry Street
That is the house where I had my 'media crib'. I moved to town and was drunk for 13 months. I stayed 'til a judge sent someone to collect me on the flimsy grounds of being on flimsy grounds. (Was he right, and just in time too, I was fixin' to die.)
Next door is our town's best resturant, and that is the Methodist Church where I attend some AA meetings.
I knew that church was nearby when I was drinking. But it seemed like it would be an incredible distance.
Behind all of that is one of downtown's most popular streets, for bars, coffee shops, bookstores, veggie/fruit juice joints, vintage clothing, and pleasent baby-buggy strolling.
posted by Jackson @ 7:16 PM
2 Comments:
That looks like you sitting on the front porch. Is it?
I'm glad you didn't die. There was a period when you stopped posting and emailing me that I started to worry. I told everybody you were probably just in jail, but I couldn't completely convince myself.
Nice to have you back.
It's my shadow, or actually my GHOST there. Spooky, isn't it. As I was being led away I told him, 'sit tight, be right back'.
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