When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon.

When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon.

I try to stay two drinks ahead of reality and three behind a drunk

I had done either too much coke or too little, a constant problem in my life.

...the sun rose each morning to stare into my face with the blank but touching gaze of a lovely retarded child.

Home is where you hang your hangover.

The only person more cynical than a drunk is a reformed drunk.