Hank Schrader here. I’m pretty sure most of you already know this, but my brother-in-law’s got lung cancer. It’s been real hard on the family, and just crazy. This is a guy who’s never smoked a day in his life. Hell, I don’t know if he’s ever even seen a cigarette — he’s that straight-laced.
I shouldn’t even be talking about this, but I figure, the five people reading this, it’s probably okay. It’s a real touchy subject, but Walt didn’t want treatment and my sister-in-law was not having it. Definitely my wife’s sister, all right? Now these gals here, they have big, huge hearts. I give them major credit for facing this head on. The family’s been hit hard, and they take care of business.
So the girls spearheaded an intervention for Walt. Now I agree, absolutely, we needed to talk to him — no question. But, an intervention? Complete with a “talking pillow?” I mean, interventions are for spoiled numbskull hoodlums and their pearl-clutching parents. “Oh Billy, please don’t crash the Mercedes again!” Give me a break. Maybe if you made little Billy there get a job, he wouldn’t be spending all his time zonked out of his mind on Adderall he probably boosted from your medicine cabinet. But, I digress.
It was a good meeting, and again, the girls really put their hearts into it. I just — Sky, I love you honey, but couldn’t we have had a, I don’t know, a talking baseball or something? I felt like an enormous tool holding that pillow.Read More