R.I.P. Harry
by Scott Hardie on August 18, 2013

It's been a melancholy weekend since learning of the passing of a family friend. Fifty years ago, Harry and my mother went on a date. They didn't quite click, but she liked him enough to introduce him to her best friend, and sparks flew between them that soon led to marriage and a lifetime of gratitude to my mother for introducing them. They've been the closest friends I've known my mother to have, and big influences on our lives, instrumental in choices like moving to Sarasota. When my father died while I was still a teen, Harry privately offered to be a surrogate any time I needed a man to talk to, and that spoke to the generation that he came from, where men were manly and role models were critical. Harry was an old-fashioned gentleman; he automatically made chivalrous gestures like holding the chair for ladies to sit down, and he was the kind of man where you could sense that his preferences for drink and smoke had been with him for decades. A stroke late in life forced him to speak less, but his good humor and decency remained strong. I miss him and I mourn him.
Four Replies to R.I.P. Harry
Steve West | August 19, 2013
There are a few men in my life representative of whom you mourn. I know I'll mourn their passing equally hard and will redouble my efforts to spend time with these good men while I still can. Thanks, Harry. Thanks, Scott.
Scott Hardie | August 20, 2013
Since writing this, I learned that two Funeratic members (inactive but well remembered) lost their fathers in the last few days. I am sad for them, and my thoughts turn to making the most of the time we have in life.
Lori Lancaster | August 23, 2013
[hidden by author request]
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

Blood Lines
A few weeks ago, I dropped a glass bottle of salad dressing on the kitchen floor, making the house smell like vinaigrette for a day. Today, I stepped on the last errant bit of glass hiding in a crack of tile by the corner. Better my foot than the cat's paw, I guess; I don't lick between my toes. Go »
Cliché
Mighty Girl found a fun and simple way to make her announcement. Go »
Midevil Mayhem
On Sunday evening, besides indulging in a few rounds of the ever-popular Munchkin with Miah, Ines, and her boss Denise, we tried one round of Midevil, a spinoff of the apparently bestselling Zombies!!! game that my St. Pete friends will recognize. Go »
Weakened
A friend (new GOO devotee Aaron Weiss) once said he had read about a psychological study that found people don't feel like they've had a weekend if they didn't have free time on Friday night. That was my experience this weekend: At the office till eight, then sitting down with pizza and a DVD only to nod off on the couch by nine thirty. I may have woken up refreshed on Saturday morning, but there was this crushing feeling that the weekend was almost over, that sort of numbing dread you feel every Sunday night an hour before bed. Go »
What's Funnier Than a Heart Attack?
Everything, but especially finding out that it's not a heart attack. The pain started after I finished my usual Tuesday dinner with my mom at 8pm. I stood up to leave, and stiffness shot up my back and across my chest. Go »
Erik Bates | August 19, 2013
[hidden by author request]