ABSTRACT
This chapter discusses the life of Joe, who lived in New Orleans. Ever since his wife and 12-year-old son left him, he started each day with four ounces of Virginia Gentleman, a fine, but inexpensive Bourbon whiskey. The whiskey helped him ease into the day and relaxed him for his first therapy appointment. The chapter also discusses the life of Bob, who awoke to the vision of a nurse leaning over him to check his vital signs. When he asked what was happening she told him he was in the hospital after having been run over by one of those ridiculous tourist horse-drawn carriages. He thought he was supposed to be the last family therapist. Conferences, local, regional, state, national, international, global, mega-galactic, kept popping up which the last family therapist could not attend. The chapter highlights that people have become too obsessed with family therapy. They have given the field more importance than it deserves in their lives.
