spending the week with my dad in this hole in the wall in upstate new York. he's doing pretty well, actually, and his house is cleaner than expected.
the village he lives in is a trip. he hangs out at a VFW club, where draft beer is 50 cents, and the youngest guys there are viet nam vets. everybody in town wears a (non-ironic) baseball hat, boots, either clip on suspenders or overalls. all the conversations seem to have to do with guns. everything is sort of falling apart.