Now, we all know I'm not exactly on sunshiney rainbow terms with my family. Not that they have anything against me, per se, it's mostly from my end. But when Mom calls me up, crying and half-hysterical, well, the caretaker in me comes out anyway. Sure, half of what I say is bullshit, but, hey, that is the art of the Artist: it's not what you do, it's how people feel about it afterwards.
Anyway, while they may not be my favourite people in the world, that's my Big Dad, and even when I've not agreed with him, he's always had my respect, and part of that is because he's always respected ME, and not tried to change me into someone else. So, no, I'm not happy to hear about this, and I'm definitely hoping for his recovery. He's getting on in years, he's had heart problems and such, and it's anyone's guess how much longer he's got...but this isn't the way he deserves to go, dammit.
Speaking of which, that was what I was on the phone finding out when I ran into