The Washington Post, August 1st, 1995
One summer when I was in college, I worked in a Los Angeles liquor store. Its owner was named Sam -- a good man in what he thought was a lousy business. Every morning just before opening time, alcoholics would line up outside the door -- women sometimes still in nightgowns visible under their light coats. Sam would look at me, look down and then -- not a minute before he had to -- open the door. If Sam had a single great quality, it was shame. Conservatives love shame -- and so do I. But they talk about it only as it applies to personal behavior -- out-of-wedlock births or indolence, for examp...
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