1977 in Louisville, Kentucky, where the fellowship was so tight they hooked together like pygmy elephants. Burns B. is a "drunk doctor" who spent years as a lethal weapon for a Higher Power, though he admits he was just a "blithering idiot" with sawdust for brains.
He lived in the gutter, practiced medicine with little arrows drawn on a chart to remember where the appendix was, and lost his car in eleven-space parking lots. He describes the "peculiar mental twist" of the alcoholic—the meanest six inches in the world between the ears. After a decade of "three-and-a-third step" sobriety, he hit his knees, tangled in a mess of two women and a dishonest heart.
He found the narrow road through Big Book studies, moving from the bizarre insanity of a quart of whiskey a night to a place where he can pray for the miserable son of a bitch honking his horn at a red light.
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