I am definitely too cool to be forgotten

I just finished Too Cool to Be Forgotten by Alex Robinson. A friend of mine raved about the graphic novel in her blog and then she offered to let me read it.

"It follows a middle-aged guy who's accidentally transported back to his high school in 1985" and what he does there, she wrote. She left out the surprise ending in her review. No spoilers from her (There will be spoilers here). It might have been good to know the basic premise, though, before I started reading the book. The ending turned an easy Saturday read in something tense and nearly-tear-filled. For her own good she should have warned me. Does she want tear-stained pages?

Throughout the book, there are vague references to trouble at home and with his dad. Then there is this sentence as the last chapter starts: "i always remembered my dad as being sort of klutzy ..." Oh, crap.

In my friend's defense, most people don't know why I use a chair, and I guess I can look as it as kind of cool that she thought nothing of giving me a book that contains sentiments like the above or this: "It's a horrible, horrible disease for many reasons, but one of the cruelest is that usually, your mind, is unaffected. It's your body which gives out ... betrays you..."

No, the dad does not have Friedreich's ataxia; he has ALS. He dies on July 29, my birthday. The time travel allows the son to say a proper goodbye and tell his dad how angry he is at him for dying. It is good, just took a little more out of me than I expected.

Now, I have to figure out what to tell my friend on Monday.