When he played the drums, everybody we love who has died came back, for just those half hours, and stood there weeping at the beauty of the not yet dead. There were marching bagpipes and a man with cat ears who loves cats and his cat named Dust who loves him back. Birdie said this is Clyde’s goat and Clyde said this is Birdie’s turkey. My hands look enormous in that light. Let’s talk about our dads, then let’s go around in a circle and read what we’ve been writing while eating the apple cobbler, then let’s go around in a circle and pretend to be stand-up comedians. I’ll tell the one about how your grandpa is a male prostitute and you tell the one about how you will only drink light beer and then she’ll tell the one about the American secret and then he’ll tell the one about the Cosbys. All you have to do is make two wrong choices in a row and you’re somebody else.