I want an uncle marked Jim.

I had an uncle named Jim. He's been dead for 20 years. Drank and smoked himself to death. My uncle Jimmy, God bless him, was a son of a bitch but he was a magnificent son of a bitch. Profane and fearless. Told dirty stories from the Bible. Married a rich woman. His daughter, the last time I saw her, was maybe the most beautiful young woman I've ever seen.

My Dad told a story about Uncle Jim from the early sixties in which he is quoted as saying "No nigger dances with my sister." As horrible as that is, it's also kind of epic because they were in an overwhelmingly black bar at the time, and Uncle Jimmy was only about 5 foot five. It was also kind of funny since the sister turned out to be a huge honking lesbian.

My dad told me that story in a bar during the 80s, not long after Uncle Jimmy had died, and after introducing me to the elderly black gentleman who, twenty years earlier, had got them all out of there alive. It's weird how a horrible anecdote can make you miss someone. It reminds me of my brother, who would get right in your face just like that, even if you were a foot taller, for calling someone a nigger.

goed verhaal, gast!

Is it pleasant in the darkest depths of Africa this time of year?

You've never seen Gilligan's Island? WTF.

Kids these days aren't as familiar with TV shows from before they were born. There was nothing else on when we were kids so it was endless Nick at Nite reruns for us.

Now there are so many choices why bother with decades old sitcoms?