The Ledger
Uncle Ford said he'd die on March 20, 2019, at 5:13 AM. And I believed him. It wasn't that he was a paragon of sincerity. Actually, fibbery and jokes were his occupation. It was just that... I wanted to. Ford was the only artist in my stuffy midwestern family, and he really got me. Where my parents seemed to have a search and destroy policy with art and levity, Ford literally made a living joking around the country. My dad wanted me to be an accountant or something, to represent the family name in a professional suit-and-tie manner. So Ford would bring me a pawn shop guitar in defiance, like he was battling them for my soul.
