Rain delays are no good for me-- saw Fuddruckers on the Phanton Gourmet and got to thinking about my father. One of the last times we went to Boston together for appointments we stopped on Route 1. He couldn't eat his whole burger but we had a good time. Cleaning yesterday I found a letter I wrote to my father while he was still in isolation after his lung transplant, me sitting at Fuddrucker's on the way home from the hospital because I wanted to be somewhere he enjoyed.

Saw the hot peppers on the condiment bar on the television and it got me to thinking about how much my father enjoyed little things in this world. I realized how much pain he must have been in to decide to die and how long he must have been in pain.

So I start crying and I leave the room. Come in here and try to get things off my mind by checking who was voted off American Idol. Give me baseball or give me fluff-- without whiskey it is the only way I will make it through.