My Great Uncle Died

In an odd turn of events, my great uncle died. For those of you with genealogical impairments, a great uncle is the brother of your grandfather. You grandfather, of course, is your mother's father. And your mother is the one who labored away to bring forth your ugly face - and still called you cute.

Anyway, at the age of 91, my great uncle died. Some people in my family have noted that it was a shame that he died of CANCER. They have used this event to persuade me of quitting smoking.

Ha! Ha, ha, ha...

Not exactly an evil laugh, but, still...

You see, 91 is still a long time on this earth. And get this, he ran a tavern in Northern Wisconsin most of his life. We used to go there and watch the fights and the pool games.

Once, he jumped over the bar and throttled his son-in-law around the throat. He ALMOST killed him. My father stepped in at the last second and saved the son-in-law, prying away my great uncle's arms from the guy's throat. Christ, he was beginning to turn blue!

Oh for the innocence of youth. I miss those days.

One concern: my family tree is experiencing an uprooting. I don't know if "uprooting" is a word, but, still, we're experiencing it.