As a side note, who in the hell names a mental hospital “Whispering Meadows?” After dodging an army of “Twilight Zone” wannabes, an orderly...resembling “Lurch” from the Adams Family let us in to Amy’s room. She was laying on a gurney; face up staring at the ceiling without blinking. Covered with a thin white cotton sheet, she could have easily passed for a fresh corpse in a morgue. Andy broke down immediately upon seeing her and I surveyed the austere room with nothing but a small window. "How old do you think my mother is?" He asked.Duke shook his head in wonder."That's a no-win question." Richard reproved."It is if the entire range of possible answers is complimentary." Claude retorted."Well, and I apologize if I offend ma'am," Richard ventured, "from your appearance alone, I would say a fantastic forty." Offend? Not at all." She beamed. "What if I told you it was nearly double that?"Richard picked his jaw off the floor. "Not ... possible!" Oh, but it is. My son here is fifty.. More

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