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

Erik Bates | August 19, 2013
[hidden by author request]

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 »

Day 86

The diet continues, but I haven't lost as much as I would like by now. Four pant sizes is something to be proud of, but three of them were lost in January, so you can understand my frustration. I've wound up taking a fourth meal most days, bringing me to ~1200 calories, and so far I've had a lot of trouble going back down to three. Go »

Party Time, Excellent

I rarely enjoy going to parties and I never drink, so it has come as a surprise to me that I have lately developed a love of hosting parties where friends drink. Kelly and I have thrown three parties in three months, each with around 20-25 guests: A Labor Day cookout with swimming in the pool, a Halloween party with costumes and horror games, and a Christmas party with a gift swap. I think we're done for a little while, just to give ourselves a break, because it takes a lot of cleaning and shopping and preparing to throw parties like this. Go »

Wests Take Southwest to Southeast

As Steve West mentioned, he and Brenda recently visited Sarasota for a week of fun. In advance, we rented an AirBNB (cat allergies prevented staying at my place) and kicked around some ideas for what to do, but we were concerned about unpredictable fatigue and other medical complications and knew that we had to take it one day at a time. The trip had a bumpy start, with Kelly taken by ambulance to the ER the night before (she recovered quickly) and a difficult Southwest flight and Uber pickup for the Wests, but that all quickly felt like it was behind us as soon as the fun began. Go »

Heart Burn

The recurring pericarditis that I mentioned elsewhere is now believed by my primary-care doctor to be heartburn or possibly an ulcer. The latter explanation is possible I suppose, but I'm skeptical about the former since it feels less like an acidic burning than like a sharp localized lower-chest pain such as a knife wound or bullet wound. Either way, it still keeps occurring every few weeks, it still hurts like a son of a bitch and keeps me awake all night, and I'm way beyond sick of it happening. Go »

Hey Saoirse Ronan, What's Over There?

Go »

Roger Ebert Should Lay Off the Facial Reconstructive Surgery

When Roger Ebert took ill last fall, I thought it would pass in a week like his previous cancer scares, and he'd barely mention it. Then he didn't come back to work for months, and I thought he'd announce his retirement, because it's really hard to go back to doing something full-time when you've rested too long, even if you love it like he does. Then he announced that he'd be present at his annual film festival this month, and I thought the recovery was done and he was about to return. Go »