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5:36 a.m. - 2001-07-27


We went to Brad's visitation last night. It went a whole lot better than anyone could have expected. I think his parents were pretty doped up and were feeling no pain. I talked to his Dad for a while...or at least...let him talk for a while...and he seemed at peace with it, as did his Mom. His Mom said this last year was the hardest year for them because Brad's mental illness was just getting worse and worse. He wasn't happy with life and never would be. So now, he's no longer tortured. They said when they saw his face, they saw a peace that they had never seen in him before. That made them both feel better.

I saw the lady that used to own the company that I worked for there. This lady is the president of a company I'm willing to bet you've all heard of before, but I'm not announcing it here because of that damned Google. Google has led more people here from my real life than I've ever wanted in here. Suffice to say...the lady is a millionaire many times over. She just sold her company to ESPN for a pretty penny.

Anyway, she came up and actually half-assed hugged me.


Previously, I think I had said one sentence to her in my life. And that was something along the lines of "Beats me" when she asked my opinion on something.

The woman always kinda scared the bejeezus outta me. Women in power make me shudder.

So then, she starts just jabbering away with me like we're old friends.

I wanted to stop her and say "Look're a multi-millionaire who I previously thought hated my ass. Now you're carrying on like we're going to be playing a round of golf after this. If all this gabbery is genuine, great. But if you're saying this out of nervous tension because we're at a guy's visitation and you don't know how to it for some other sap."

There's background to my distaste for the woman, but I don't feel like getting into it here.

Okay...I will.


Basically ... her nephew and I worked for the newspaper that she owned. I despised her nephew, he didn't like me.

One week, my humor column concerned something that my nephew didn't like. He told the boss (Brad's dad) to take my column out that week, even though the nephew had no authority to do such a thing.

Brad's Dad refused.

Nephew calls millionaire-owner Aunt and tells her what happened.

Millionaire Aunt calls Brad's Dad and tells him to pull my column FOR GOOD.


For two years I wasn't allowed to write my column anymore, which was the only source of joy I had in an otherwise horrible job. All because of obnoxious nephew and Millionaire Aunt.

It wasn't until Drunk-Assed Boss(TM) (remember him?) came along and bought the paper from Millionaire Aunt that I was allowed to write my column again.

Ironically, Obnoxious Nephew is one of the pallbearers today too. We talked last night and the way I look at it...if I only have to spend an hour or so with Obnoxious Nephew, I can do it.

If I had to share an office with him for four or five years again...I'd kill him.

Anyway...that's that story.




Newspaper Sales Manager Lynn comes in. I haven't seen Lynn in about a month. This is the woman that told people when I left "Things are going to be a lot better now".

The person I THOUGHT was my friend.

We make small talk, blah blah blah. Somebody asks her how the newspaper is doing lately.

She says...

And I quote...

"We sure do miss Uncle Bob around there. There's a new crisis every day."

Exsqueeze me???

Did somebody who "thought" everything was going to be better once I left just admit that things SUCK without me there?!?!?


Somebody get my astronaut boots. 'Cause I am WALKING ON CLOUD NINE!

Actually, I had a feeling they'd miss me because I knew more about that newspaper and the way things were done than anyone still there. It was just information that I learned and kept to myself over the years because nobody thought I'd ever leave and I would always be there with the information and nobody had to worry about how to get a newspaper out.

They've gotten a newspaper out each week. But it's taking them anywhere from 6-8 hours LONGER each week than it did with me there.

Anyway, like I told Lynn...that's music to my ears. It was actually the highest compliment ever paid to me in nine years with that godforsaken company.

Soooo...ummmm...all in was a good Visitation.

Closed casket. I guess I shoulda mentioned that. Brad must have done some damage on his way down off that bridge.

We'll see how today's funeral goes.

Called my parents last night afterwards, since Brad's parents and my parents were best friends back in the 80s.

Told Mom a lot of what was going on. And she ended the conversation with "We're very proud of you."

I guess for being a pall bearer. Certainly not for this diary, I can tell ya that.

It takes a lot for my mother to compliment her children. I come from a family (whoa...Uncle Bob's about to open up here...everyone back up a step...) where we never really complimented each other...NEVER said we loved each other...shit like that is for SISSIES...and my family is NO SISSIES.

Mom always said "You know I love my children. I just don't feel the need to say it all the time."

Hell...she NEVER said it.

When Dad was "dying" last year (and then DIDN'T embarrassing), I told him I loved him several times. And he was embarrassed. Almost like "Get outta here with that shit!" embarrassed.

Susie's family says it with each phone call.

Hell, it was Susie that introduced hugging to my family. When we first started dating, we drove up to Nashville for her to meet my family. When we were leaving, she hugged my parents who looked more confused than a couple of monks in a whorehouse over this gesture. I halfway expected them to say in a halted William Shatner-like speak " .... this ....hugging thing?"

Anyways...they're getting soft in their old age.

My parents are "proud of me" for whatever reason.

And my old work now realizes just how much I meant to the operation.

Life is good.


Very soon, Uncle Bob will be getting out of this melancholy funk and be ready to spit his brand of venom out with ease! will be a return to the cranky-assed Uncle Bob that you know and love.

Just be patient with me.

It's coming.

I already wanna blast elderly people who get in front of you at Walmart and forget that they don't have any cash.

It's coming!

I can feel it!!


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