On Friday my father is scheduled to have surgery to remove much of his right lung. He's been battling cancer in various parts of his body for about a decade now.
My father and I have a problematic relationship. In some ways we're alike, we have the same sense of humor, but in other ways we're so diametrically opposed that it's difficult to believe that we're sharing the same plane of existence. Which also might explain why we both love Fringe.
So, yesterday I was at the hospital all day with my dad while he got biopsied and scanned. While we waited all he wanted to talk about was Tuesday night's Fringe. Which we did. My mother sat by the bed and knitted barely listening, sometimes interjecting something along the lines of: A cow in the lab seems unsanitary. I would argue that the cow is a metaphor for the easily led masses, but that seems to pat a conclusion to draw. For all I know the cow is just a cow, or maybe an ancient god reincarnated who is really leading Walter. Or the cow is just a cow.
Anyway, Dad seemed to be in much better spirits by the time I left, fully satisfied that we'd plumbed the depths of meaning within Fringe...and more importantly, his mind was off all of the medical stuff at hand. Better to bond late than never.