The Real Change issue of September 1997 was the one in which I confessed to a duck-licking addiction. I really just wanted to get on the “all homeless people must be addicts” bandwagon and looked around for a distinctive addiction that might set me apart from the others even as I would be coming into the addiction fold, as it were.
So I wrote about hitting rock bottom, having been found face-down in a pile of duck feathers in a ditch alongside a road in Tukwila after a serious duck-licking binge. It was not my proudest moment. The column, I mean. The duck-licking was made up.
Read more in the Mar. 3-9, 2021 issue.