Episode 1: Gather 'round the fire while uncle Bernie spins a yarn

Bernie stared at his daughter as though she had just eaten the last available snack in the house.

Melody couldn’t contain herself. “What's this look about?”

“Is it your presumption that I just sprang forth, fully an adult, from...”

Melody covered his mouth with the palm of her hand.

“Let me stop you right there. I don’t know what this is about or where you’re coming from. You should really preface your madness with some sort of exposition. Give it a history. A purpose. Such information is helpful to gain the listener’s interest and reduce confusion.”

“You just seemed to think, earlier, that I was always ...old? I just wanted to clarify a few things."

Melody squinted her eyes at him. “I mean, that’s my general overview, yes. But I’m curious what specific conversational snippet might have been brewing in your brain, causing this sudden attack to bubble to the top...and for how long.”

Bernie waved his hands in the air, as though he were conducting a particularly emotional piece of orchestral music. “Something you said the other day. And I wouldn't exactly go calling this an attack.”

She squinted at him even harder. “I know your “other days”. They can range anytime from yesterday to the day of my birth.”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it,” said Bernie. "And I don't know the exact moment. Just the intent. It bothered me, and now I want to set the record straight. Your generation likes dealing with feelings, right?"

Melody took her glasses off dramatically as though a newspaperman from a 1930’s screwball comedy, but instead of spewing a diatribe about her father’s lousy typing skills and work ethic she proceeded to clean the lenses with a piece of soft cloth she produced from her pocket. “I wonder how many viewers we’ve lost with your senseless babbling so far, assuming there were some to begin with.”

Bernie tapped his fingers nervously on the table. “It’s just...”

“For the love of Fig Newtons, man. Stop dancing about it like you’re an extra on Soul Train! Just say what you've got to say and be done with it. Some of us have things to do."

Bernie Jackson began to emit a mewling noise from somewhere deep in his throat.

"What do you have going on, exactly?"

"I have a list. Not that it's any of your business."

After a moment he stood up, opened the fridge, rooted around in it aggressively. Without turning around, he said, “Where's your mother, anyway?”

"You think mom is in the refrigerator?"

As if on queue, Lonnie Jackson entered the kitchen through the back porch door, brandishing a small shovel. “What are you two doing in here besides nothing productive?”

Melody raised an eyebrow. "Other than Dad mistaking the fridge for the back door, not much. How’s the worm farm?”

“The worms are fine,” Lonnie said. She turned to her husband directly. “You’re not planning on making your famous “Leftovers Omelet” are you?" She had seen enough kitchen mishaps from Bernie to sound her internal alarm bells.

Bernie waved his finger towards the kitchen table.

Lonnie sat down quickly. “What is it, boy. Is there trouble? Should we call Captain Henderson?”

“Quiet you," he said, and sat down next to her. He noticed she was wearing a baseball cap, on which was written the words 'WORM BLOODED'. "You know,” Bernie said. “You really make it difficult to take you seriously sometimes.”

Melody rustled through some pages, and looked up at her father, blankly. “I think you might have read Mom’s line there. Let’s reset and pick it up from ‘Leftovers Omelet.’”

“How about, everyone just stop eating all of this sugar and settle down. I remembered some things about my childhood that I need to reconcile."

"Oh," Lonnie said. "Story time." She took off her hat and hooked it on the back of her chair.

"Don't get too excited. It's quite possible that I've oversold it."

Lonnie put her hand on top of his. "You talking about your past and your weird family is one of my great joys. And I'm not being sarcastic at all."

"Also," Melody added. "When you're jaw's flapping it keeps you from putting things into it." Her words were slightly obscured as she had just bitten into an apple.

Bernie took a deep breath. "Thank you all for your support." He paused, took another deep breath and said, finally, "Okay, it all begins on Ellis Street..."