Baltimore, December. A heart in a flutter, a slip into the gutter, and a pig for company. Mike L. doesn't call himself a talker; he's a speaker, a truck driver who drank anything too thin to chew and spent his years as a "zombie" walking into poles. He was the kind of jerk who knew everyone's business but his own, acting as his own lawyer in fifty-seven criminal court cases and losing every single one. He lived in a world of make-believe, a professional panhandler in a dirty sweatshirt, until he hit the bottom of a Baltimore City Jail cell.
He describes the wreckage of a man who left his children to be mocked at school and his wife to lie for him. But the shift came through a Higher Power and the hands of people who pulled him out of the muck. Now, he trades the "clown suit" for a life of reality, finding the dividends of sobriety in the eyes of a daughter he finally got to give away in marriage.
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