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 »
Pico de Greedo
On Friday, my company threw a part Mexican, part Star Wars party in celebration of Cinco de Mayo and Star Wars Day ("May the 4th be with you"). It was a weird combination but it worked, with games like a lightsaber piñata bash. Kelly made "lightsabers" (pretzel rods frosted with blue and red frosting), but she really got interested when I mentioned that the salsa contest offered three prizes and only had three teams on the signup sheet. Go »The Phoenix
This is the last of four weekly blog posts about diagnoses that have completely changed my life since the pandemic started, after The Dragon, The Tiger, and The Serpent. I saved the lightest one for last. Many people who discover later in life that they're neurodivergent have reported spending years aware of the symptoms and signs of their condition without ever considering that the description might apply to them, and when they do finally realize, it's as if a thousand mysteries are solved at once: Things that never made sense are all suddenly explained. Go »Where the Hell I Have Been All Year, Part III
This is a long story of interest only to friends of mine and people who really want to spend fifteen minutes reading about my life, but I've been promising to reveal this secret for the better part of a year and the time has come: Kelly Lee and I were a couple again this past spring. I kept it secret because A) it was difficult to tell the friends who had supported me during her breakup that we were dating again and B) for the duration of the relationship I didn't know where it was going and I wanted to know this before I said anything. Anyway, this story is solely my point of view and may not be fair to hers. Go »Cheesed
If life is about simple pleasures, does the return of Taco Bell's chili cheese burrito qualify? I don't know if it's nationwide, but they've returned on a wave of marketing around here. It was my favorite menu item a decade ago, until lack of counter space in the kitchen eliminated chili from a supposedly "Mexican" restaurant. Go »The Money Pit
Nobody's falling off of staircases or dropping bathtubs through the floor, but this month, our house has had a lot of things go wrong at once. It feels like every day brings another visit from a contractor. Here's our list so far: Mold remediation: A patch of black mold in the primary bathroom meant having the shower tiles stripped out and the infected drywall removed. Go »
Erik Bates | August 19, 2013
[hidden by author request]