The pimply boy came toward me with his homemade blowtorch. Left to my own resources, I defended myself. I started singing exactly what came to my mind at that very moment: "Don't tell me just to live and sit and putter; life's candy, and the sun's a ball of butter..."
Seven months sober, there I was at the Duplex piano bar at 2 in the morning. It was just like the old days -- minus one thing. Feeling so well, I boldly requested "Meadowlark," the mother of all showtunes. As soon as I started singing, I regretted it.