Pick Your Poison

When I was 16 years old, driver’s license burning a hole in my pocket and all flush with a bad, nerdy case of early-onset political junkyitis, I jumped in the old yellow Karmann Ghia with my friend Steve and we went election-night party-hopping. This was 32 years ago, in Salt Lake City. As such, the scene at the Democratic party site was dismal. The main floor had already drained of

from Beervana http://beervana.blogspot.com/2016/11/pick-your-poison.html

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