Each night, his father serenades him with a chorus of insults that would destroy a weaker man's sense of self. Jastram simply rolls with the verbal punches.
"I don't even hear him any more, to be honest." Jastram explained, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, has he ever looked in the mirror? The fat fuck."
Thomas Jastram happened by as he was being insulted. He turned and fired a Ludens cough drop at his son from extremely close range.
"You ain't worth ten cents!" The elder Jastram spat. "Let's go for a blood test right now. I've had my doubts for 42 years!" "I got the same ass-face chin cleft you've got, old man! Plus I'm fucking lazy ... Dead ringer!"
The two men had to be separated by a bottle of Vodka tossed across the room by wife and mother, Gladys Jastram.
"You dirty, rotten little bastard," Thomas said through clenched teeth. "I want you out of here! You've turned 18 twice already, for chrissakes!"
"Ah ... You'll miss me when I'm gone! Hell, mom won't even talk to you ..."
"That sounds like HEAVEN to me!"
And on and on it goes.
Psychiatrist Andrew Melvin offered his assessment of this father-son relationship:
"It's obvious these two men love each other very much. They're very expressive of their feelings toward one another, verbally and physically. That's quite rare. Most of the time, fathers and sons completely ignore each other. That's certainly not the case here."
