“John Lennon has just
been shot!” That’s what we heard on the radio as we left the recording studio. I
say “we”, but I can’t really remember who the driver was. The simple fact is
that at the time of John Lennon’s murder, I was the co-owner of an advertising
agency and had stopped driving cars years earlier after being unable to find my
car on several mornings after several nights before.
I was apparently smart
enough to know I shouldn’t drive while drunk, but not smart enough to understand
the implications of always, every single night, without exception, being too
drunk to drive.
I had ripped my
Pennsylvania driver’s license into six little rectangles after one day spending
four hours walking in ever larger concentric circles looking for my car, left
God knows where the night before.
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 52)
"Just give me the keys."
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