Word reached me through the ether of the Internet that Donnie, member of the Old Crow Book Club and two months sober, had fallen off the wagon. And there he was on a Sunday afternoon, in front of the convenience store, down the sidewalk, dressed like Johnny Cash, kind of weaving. I walked up and said, somewhat yelling, “Donnie, what in the hell? You're back on the sauce? You were doing so great!”
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Word reached me through the ether of the Internet that Donnie, member of the Old Crow Book Club and two months sober, had fallen off the wagon. And there he was on a Sunday afternoon, in front of the convenience store, down the sidewalk, dressed like Johnny Cash, kind of weaving. I walked up and said, somewhat yelling, “Donnie, what in the hell? You're back on the sauce? You were doing so great!”