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 »
The Tiger
This is the second of four weekly blog posts about diagnoses that have completely changed my life since the pandemic started, after The Dragon. Last week, I wrote about my liver disease, which doesn't have any direct, detectable signs. It's not as if I feel any pain in my liver, or that I can sense that it's not working in the same way that I could tell right away if, say, my eyes stopped working or my lungs stopped working. Go »Downtown A-Town
I can't write about why I spent the week in Atlanta because it's too confidential and work-related, but I can say that I had a good time around the margins of that event. The first day was the only loss. I got so little sleep the night before (seemingly a part of every trip I take) that I spent it groggy and exhausted. Go »And If You're Not Careful, You Might Learn Something
Ten things I learned from watching the entire run of The Cosby Show over the last few months on Netflix streaming: - Cliff wasn't the only one who wore wild sweaters. - Seinfeld was celebrated as the "show about nothing," but this show had even less plot. Entire episodes just riffed for twenty minutes on Vanessa fretting over a test or Theo having a crush on a girl, nothing more. Go »Eulogy for Two or Possibly Three Restaurants
Dining in Sarasota at 10:30pm on a Friday night is not the easiest proposition. I took my friends Miah and Ines downtown to the only non-franchise I knew would still be open, an upscale sports-themed bar & grill called Patrick's. I've had fifteen or so great meals there, but not last night. Go »I Miss My Site
Things I would rather have done than work until 2am on a Sunday: - Fix the Obsessions page. - Fix the sidebar on my blog. - Review Spider-Man 3. Go »
Erik Bates | August 19, 2013
[hidden by author request]