My Whiskey Broke

16 Apr

Ahh, the drinking days.

I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the hell out of many of them.

But when they went south, they went Borneo.

I’ll never forget one night that ended in a huge fight… and yours truly in a cheap motel outside Baltimore.

I can assure you, there’s very few things more depressing than a hotel outside of Baltimore, attached to a small lounge.

But alas, that’s where your author found himself — alone, semi-drunk, and so pissed I couldn’t bring myself to continue drinking.

Of course part of the fight was about my proclivity for the amber holy water.

But that’s a story for another time.

My point is that some pain is too complex, too deep and too raw to be drunk away.

You can drink away a tough day at the office.

You can drink away a breakup with someone you weren’t going to be sharing a Volvo with anyway.

But when you lock horns on the deepest levels with someone you actually care about… and you hit that steel wall where nothing you can say or do can fix it… then your whiskey stops working.

It breaks and that’s it.

You’re left with your pain, your regret and your dimming hopes for a light at the end of the tunnel.

And you can only hope it’s not her with a flame thrower coming to finish the job.

Well anyway… I’m happy to report that the story had a happy ending.

We eventually resolved our issues and moved forward with our shared project.

And hey, now I have this new song – and that terrible night at the dive motel to thank for it.

Life’s funny that way. As they say in a certain program I’m familiar with: don’t quit before the miracle happens.

Happy Easter to you, with love from Maryland.

Without further ado, here’s the new one:

My Whiskey Broke

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