He ain't heavy

Celebrating my dad's birthday, I told my parents and my dad's brother and wife about the week in Dublin knowing that my uncle and aunt (both novelists, songwriters, poets) would be interested in the theatre production.

Talking about Kurt Weill and Bertold Brecht, my dad and uncle burst into song - singing Mac the Knife and Cannon Song, in German - knowing all the damn lyrics, and parts of September Song, and other tunes.

'I love that guy,' said my uncle, talking about my father, 'which is fortunate, cause he's my brother.'