Deadwood is Back. Pour the Whiskey.
I drink whiskey because of Deadwood.
In the mid-2000s, I was depressed, divorced, and devoid of basically everything. I had two young children who depended on me, a few half-finished novels, fading dreams of becoming a filmmaker, and little enough cash that my days were spent chasing consulting work in an attempt to derail my increasingly successful pursuit of indebtedness.
One night, late at night, late in the summer or early in the Autumn, lights out, kids asleep, with perhaps a candle burning, I decided to watch the first episode of Deadwood. I don't remember why. I had never been