Nah. He was in and out of my life until he died from an overdose when I was about 22. He'd just show up at random intervals every year or so. I was aware he was a fuck up by the things my grandpa would complain about when he wasn't around. Things like being frustrated with company equipment and shooting it with his pistol. Grandpa would be outraged then set about fixing things again. The worst thing was one year while we were all out east working and living to maintain our eastern operation at the end of the season we returned to Grandpa's California home to find the walls of this model dream home spray painted with graffiti. The stone work on the fireplace that Grandpa had lovingly built himself was also tagged. Grandpa was heartbroken but set about chipping away the spray paint as that was the only solution to getting the paint off. But the worst part of it all was a very large pyrite specimen Grandpa had found when he was in the logging industry had been thrown into the fireplace and burned until it fell to bits and shards. That upset me because in my mind I was sure when I got much older my Grandpa would gift it to me. It was like a family treasure that sat on the hearth my entire life. I never hated my dad for this bullshit but I was disappointed in him. He'd come around for a few months, work for Grandpa in the family business and then do something outrageous in the business and run off again, not to be seen for another year or so. When he died at 45 of an overdose I was angry, saddened and relieved it was over.