You got to lose, to know how to win, and sometimes you never make it. I'm sitting in the garage Cave wrapped up in blankets with the little heater blowing warm air on me, and thinking about the homeless crowd waiting outside the soup kitchen down the street, in this bitter cold.

It took us about an hour to get ready and let the folks into the dining area around 0700, but this morning I hope they were allowed into the building early, just outside the kitchen. I can't imagine the despair they must feel.

I had to stop volunteering there because my mobility was embarrassing. There have been mornings I've thought about joining the crowd outside and coming inside for a meal, but my pride wouldn't allow it.

I actually have no pride left. As I sit here alone in the Cave I am humbled by the generosity of my grand-daughter, and ashamed of the drinking problem that has fucked my life up.

I haven't had a drink since last year and I plan on being able to continue saying that, as long as I can stay alive.