Much had changed since then, but I was relieved to see there was some constant in my life. The cracked stone on the door step, the slight miscolour on...the wall where my friend Jim once threw up. The same squeak from the never before oiled door hinges, and the same narrow, mistrusting eyes behind the bar. And the same old friend sitting in our usual corner. He looked up as I walked through the door. A little too quick, I thought. I instantly smiled and waved at him in return. The barkeeper was. They had started the festivities well before my arrival. They made the required token offer of the joint they were passing. I shook my head. They didn't press since they knew that I prefer more traditional approaches to separating mind from body. I, instead, grabbed a beer from their fridge.We sat around talking shit about the Lions (what else was there to say about them, they are the Lions after all). They finished their smoke and joined me in having a beer. They had started their second and I. More

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