Admin Post Just as an aside, my favorite uncle is an incredible intellect, but he and my father, and their sister were beat to a pulp by their father... a man who came home from WW2 with no other coping mechanism but alcohol. My favorite uncle... he lived life in the shadow of my father. My favorite uncle... came home from work one day in ~1982 to find his wife in bed with another man. He never recovered from that. He became a successful radio DJ, an “on air personality” whom a whole lot of people loved. But it was an act. He became a hermit later in life. A shell of a man. His only son (my older cousin) passed away of cancer two years ago, and he didn’t even go to the funeral. He’s a man with a wicked sense of humor. And a deep, deep scar. George Carlin meets Woody Allen. He’s still alive. I think he drinks most of his calories. I wish I could rewind back to 1978, when he was happy and throwing the baseball with the boys in the backyard. I wish he could feel that joy once again, even if only for a few minutes.