The whole thing with the Lisa tapes has lost whatever warmth and sentimentality it possessed, and has finally become creepy. How much time and energy did it take this dying woman to produce tapes for every occasion, every milestone in the lives of her surviving family? And what a frigging nag she is! Did she think that Les, a teacher, wouldn’t be “on top of” his daughter’s college application process? No matter: to Les, even Lisa’s postmortem micromanagement brings him sweet, sweet bliss.