He had always been a bit of grump to most neighbors. To be honest, no one the neighborhood seemed to like him. And if he did have family, we could understand why they never came to visit him. Still, he always liked my wife, and would chat with her for hours over the fence, or on the sidewalk out front. She seemed to be the only person he really wanted anything to do with. And then one day he had a stroke. My wife went to check on him at the hospital because she saw the ambulance take him away. The doctors told her that he would likely be put in a nursing home because he needed constant care, and didn't appear to have any family to do this for him. She came home sad, and asked what I thought about him staying with us for a while. I was not big on the idea, and tried to remind her that she was not exactly qualified to give him all the care he needed. She argued that point by saying the nurses would show her what to do, and she felt obliged to help him, since she considered him a. "Why don't you play bothof them for me and let me decide. I am your agent after all." I can't do that," I felt just as frustrated with him. "Austin broke theneck on my guitar three weeks ago, remember?"My dad laughed. It wasn't the reaction I expected, and it somehowmanaged to break through my frustration and had me chuckling too. Ididn't know what I was laughing at, but I couldn't stop."That's right," Dad was finally able to say. "But if I remembercorrectly, the two of you were fighting and you dropped it down thestairs, not Austin."I grumbled. While he might be technically correct, it was still Austin'sfault."Okay," he continued. "First thing tomorrow morning we'll get you a newone. Then you're going to play them when we go to the record company tolearn about the other songs."That did not sound like a good idea to me, but I knew that I wouldn't beable to get out of it. Especially if he bought me a new guitar for doingit."Okay," I finally agreed. He'd have to see the truth when the.
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