March 17. On Bavaria: With the same inevitability with which my father becomes demented, I realize how similar I am to him, precisely in the bad, the annoying, the offensive traits. To even come near his house makes me tense, bossy, unbearable, which are exactly the same characteristics that, as I get closer to him, I am afraid of.

Case in point: sitting together in the living room or at the inn and proclaiming one’s views in a high-pitched voice. My few IQ points make no appreciable difference.

Made my father cry by playing the piano. Same thing happens with the waitress from Indonesia whose national anthem J plays at sight.