So I’m talking to Kweder last night at the open mike, and he tells me he’s been running around even more than usual, because his sister’s in the hospital with esophageal cancer. “She doesn’t have a husband or kids, so you know, whattaya gonna do?” he says, and shrugs. “I have to go visit her.”
“Where is she?” I ask.
“She’s at Penn, 8th and Spruce,” he tells me. “Nice hospital. And really, I don’t mind going to see her, but it gets in the way of things. I mean, I do have this drinking problem…”
We both laugh. I love Kweder. He’s the only alcoholic in the world I can stand to be around.