Last night's set at The Studio was a "keeper," indeed. Did a mix of bits on drinking, aging and gay marriage--what a combo, come to think--that appeared to keep the packed-in-like-sardines audience laughing. Of course, I failed to ask Rick for a DVD (have absolutely no sense as to when I'll do well, alas), but he graciously offered to make me one afterwards.
And there will be more Studio dates in my future, as well, which, after a show like last night's, sounds just grand. Thank you, Mr. Jenkins.....
As for today, Linda and I also had a good morning at our newly-adopted place of worship--yes, it has come to this.
Good thing, for I came home to learn that my last remaining uncle is now a candidate for hospice, poor dear. Since my aunt died, his health has deteriorated dramatically--this past week he was declared not even fit enough for the Alzheimer's ward, for pity's sake! He's also not eating, which really signals the end for our people. Most people, actually.
We're hoping for a miracle, but the thing is, I doubt that he is. Looks like he's just tired and ready to go home.
It finally dawned on me: I'm in my Loss Years. One has many years where death is but an eventuality, and then, when you're lulled into a false sense of security, the Loss-A-Thon begins.
Oh, I was going to devote this New Year to The Comedy, wasn't I? Sorry about that!
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