the long walk...

full cuppa...

banging 80 in the ride...

not a fucking dime in my wallet...

so i won't be parking on campus for this visit.

fortunately LIJ is on the queens side of lakeville road and they have houses rather than industrial parks...

so i just slide the old sub sub sub compact into a small spot that would no doubt incense the locals...

but the bastard would imagine that the idea of ANY offworlders to cheap to pay for hospital parking would be off putting.

it's queens...

the spot in front of the house is yours by divine right of kingship.

so like a freight train, the bastard is headed into the belly of the beast to see zsolte.

he's been having a rough go this year.

the wheels are falling off and this is his second trip to the hospital...

last time for his ticker...

this time, it's his kidneys...

you gotta feel for the man...

the community has been...

since the thrilla broke this story to the boys in the band, folks have been working hard at getting out there to see him.

so, in i go to the ICU for a visit.

zsolte is a loud one...

he can bellow when he needs to...

"whoa... i'm on vacation!", he'd exclaim for all the woods to hear, "i don't need to be going on no nature hike"

...and there he is passed out in a chair looking like he's been getting the wrong end of it.

i haven't seen him since jimmy's funeral but, for a man of his carriage...

he looked rickety to me.

dialysis...

it seems...

kicks the shit out of a man.

makes him a shadow of his former self.

so there i sat for an hour or so watching the poor bastard sleep in a chair that was only slightly less uncomfortable than his bed.

i reached for a magazine when he came to, looking bewildered.

"wassup bruvvah", i exclaimed, mustering enough enthusiam for the both of us

"oh, hey bastard...it's you", he whispered almost incoherently.

we talked for maybe 20 minutes.

well i talked, he grunted. like i said, he ain't feeling rright.

then i excused myself...

figured, sleep would be better than me hanging out.

so i take the long walk back to the ride.

and i think of who i didn't give the news to and decide to get on that.

but the whole while back all i can think about is how much i'd love to have a whiskey...

or an egg sammich...

and while it's 5 o'clock somewhere in the world...

the bastard opts for the egg sammich...

probably better overall.

get better bruvvah...we're all pulling for you.

—the bastard