This isn't the kind of blog you're used too and it's not the kind I intend to write often -- ideally, this is the last one in a long while -- but either way I'll write it and we'll all read it together.

Sometimes, it's hard to be funny. You read the news, hear people talk, see what's happening and then you sit down and say -- I'm going to write a dark comedy. Maybe humor is a way to cope with life or maybe life is just outrageously funny -- or maybe a bit of both, but sometimes, when things get a little too dark, a writer, somewhere, sometime, someplace, sits down and wonders if humor is trivial and maybe he should, I don't know, go get a real job or something.

What am I ranting about? Our grandfather died today. When I say ours, I mean Vlad and mine. He was 80, lived a long life and was really, really, really smart. When he was lying semi-conscious in his hospital bed, he could name off complex equations and when he was okay, he could sit and talk you for three hours on the same subject. And there were a lot of subjects he'd talk about. 

He was a teacher and he and my grandmother raised our Dad -- who, not to offend the rest of your Dads, is probably the best Dad you can find. He was also strong as all hell -- he survived a whole lot of things that no one thought he could and to say he put up a good fight is an understatment. 

What I'm saying is, my grandfather was a good man and he did a lot of good things and he raised two good children who raised other good children who intend to then raise their own children much in the same way.

Oh, he was also impossible to beat at chess. The only time Vlad ever came close to beating him, there was an earthquake and it ruined the board -- it was that hard to win.

So, now I'm sitting here and Vlad's sitting wherever he's sitting and we're both wondering -- how do you keep being funny? And then I think, because, second to a good dinner and a good hug, laughter's probably the best thing there is. And how can humor be trivial when it can, aside from a good hug and a good steak, make so many people smile and for a minute forget the darkness around them and realize how strangely amusing and undoubtedly amazing this waking life is.

And, how can any writer, or artist, or whatever you are, consider getting another job when life's a little too quick and a little too strange to not spend it doing what you absolutely love -- whether that means failing miserably or succeeding beyond your wildest dreams?

So, rest in peace, Grandpa. We love you, and you're happier now, you're stronger now, and you're probably frustrating the hell out of God in chess. And hey, while you're up there, keep an eye on the television -- I promise we'll be on there soon.

-Yuri and Vlad