bad news

my father calls.
he sounds upset. i can hear
his breathing,
the phone
bunched between his chin
and neck.
bad news he says.
really bad news.
i think disease,
drama,
a car wreck, death.
the tv died, he says.
can you believe it. it's
only twenty years old.
the cable guy came out
and said it's done,
cooked,
useless.
what should i do?
i pause. i think for
a minute what he really wants.
i know what he wants
he wants me
to drive four hours
down
and four hours back
to get him a new tv
and to hook it up for him.
i sigh.
he's eighty nine.
i pack a bag
and hit the road.