Jack Sh*t 3

<p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>They got some old timers here you know Ba? It's a Jewish place.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>So said Jack Friedman my father after moving into the Tulsa Jewish Retirement Center later known as Zarrow Pointe-but to him it was The Hebrew Home.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>We'll go with that. </span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>In </span><em style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>Jack Sh*t 3: I'm the Father</em><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>-the third installment of a 4-part trilogy-we are reminded that the world is Jack Friedman's oyster . . . or more accurately Jack Friedman's scrambled egg on a soft roll. </span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>It's always been The Jack Friedman Show.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>Those in and around his life-the owners of Owl Head Bagels the doctors at the VA the waitresses he hoped would never know the horror of stretch marks the woman he was running with his daughter (who he called that woman from Long Island) and his sons including yours truly-were his studio audience.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>He knew his part; we knew ours.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>His dementia created moments of confusion and sadness (Where's your mother Ba where's your mother?) but when the synapses were firing his takes on longevity IRS audits bosom areas and the possibilities of dairy products were the stuff of scholars and philosophers.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>What do they want from my life Ba?</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>I don't know what to tell you Dad.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1)>Don't get so shook up. My question's academic.</span></p><p></p>