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by Brent Kellogg
Brent's morning
coffee courtesy of Speeder &
Earls, Burlington, VT.
August 13, 2008
With my suffering from lung cancer wife Gail in the hospital, I'm somewhat
preoccupied so you'll understand if the Daze isn't necessarily about
what happened in Genoa City today, but more about what's going to happen. The
reason being I want to get the report written so that I can spend time with
Gail.
You know, kinda like the Newman family, I must get to the center for
disease. I must blame myself for what is happening to Gail and lash out at
my siblings who are more concerned about the family business. It's early
yet, but if Gail doesn't get out of the hospital soon I'll be digging up
some of her favorite things including the pillowcase that as a child she
rested her pretty head on. The longer Gail is confined, the more memories of
her I'll have that never happened. Who knows, I might conclude that Gail and
I were never married.
Like Katherine Chancellor, by Friday I might be wondering if my daughter is
really my daughter. Based on Jill's erratic behavior, grooming my grandson
to head up our little cosmetics empire, and forcing the "like a daughter to
me" CEO of Jabot out of the company, I may employ the services of some
obscure company that can find out if Jill and I are really related.
Oh sure, we already went through all that, confirming with retired Seattle
physician Arthur Hendricks that he did me on the floor of the Chancellor
Mausoleum, and that Jill was the result of that fling, but I never summoned
a DNA collector to my home. I did not pay the collector extra for rush
service and have the test result in my hand less than 48-hours later. It's
just that years later I've got this feeling. Close to death, I can't go to
my grave without knowing for sure.
Despite that Jill Abbott might not be my daughter, that she refuses to take
the Chancellor name like my grandson, I cannot help but look at Cane Ashby
and think how much like my dead husband he is. Yes, I literally drove
Phillip Chancellor II to an early grave, but if he was alive he'd be proud
of Cane. True, Cane keeps whining that Phillip didn't appreciate him, but
how could he when Phillip was dead? Granted, Cane speaks of whoever raised
him as a child, but wasn't that his Australian uncle? And just how did he
end up down under? Suffice it is that Cane whines
that no woman will have his baby without his being a father to it so that
what happened to him won't happen to any child of his.
So what if - as his mother says - "people have babies out of wedlock all the
time", Cane must marry Chloe Mitchell so that should she decide to run off
with the baby he'll have a legal tie to it. So what if Cane isn't qualified
to be CEO of Jabot Cosmetics? He'll be "honored" and "humbled" to take the
job so as to keep the Chancellor "legacy" alive.
I'd like to know too how long it'll take until someone figures out that
Victor Newman is alive. His son, Nick, keeps saying he's going to find the
old fart, but other than calling the FBI, hasn't done much except sit around
saying he's got to do more, and telling the old enough to be his mother
Phyllis Newman he wants to have wild, teenage sex with her.
There are signs on the horizon that Victor is communicating with someone in
Genoa City because Brad Carlton will soon make Victor's "hit list". You
know, those people who have crossed the great man and for whom there will be
"hell to pay". Like Jill, who was told by Nikki Chow that if she had
anything to do with outing David Chow, "there will be hell to pay".
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