They left out the pleurisy, the alcoholism, the sheriff's auction, the pneumonia, and the jealous patrons with pistols, but, yes, very nice.
I'm leaving now to become an artist. I'll pack my bag; I'll roll up my easel and gather my oils. Man, I'm gonna be someone. I'm gonna be a contender? Don't stop me Momma. I'm on my way!!
Lxx