So recently Uncle Rico had a run of bad luck. Really bad luck - the kind you can't even make fun of in any sort of way - ever. The kind of bad luck you'll NEVER look back at and laugh.
Tonight, while reading through all my "blogger friends" updates, he IMs me. He seems sad. How do I know -- he didn't insult me - or make fun of me or even make an inappropriate comment about the loser of American Idol.
Now, being a mostly upbeat and rather silly monkey - I sometimes get frustrated when humans assume that I'm sad or mad if I'm not jumping up and down or making crude jokes or pratfalling in physical humor. So, perhaps I'm projecting a bit. But it does seem to me that he's having a bit of a crisis.
It is a tad disturbing to see Uncle Rico being uncertain of himself, being insecure. Scary.
Oh -- wait - he's baited me into a silly discussion as to the meaning of parallel lives -- ooooh, there is hope that the real Uncle Rico is in there. What a relief.
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