6/18/17 Third Sunday in June
Low 80s, sunny and humid. Hiding in the air conditioning weather.
Father's Day. Thought about going to the cemetery but remembered my dad said "come see me while I'm alive, I won't care when I'm dead" among other things so since it's so damn hot I'm staying home and thinking of him a bit. The thing that nobody tells you about burying loved ones is how two different and distinct feelings will emerge from time to time, one is "I wish you were here to ask about this (insert very mundane but useful thing that the person could have helped you with)" and the other is "Now I know what it is like to be (insert an age), I understand better why you were the way you were and how dumb I was". Then again maybe everybody's grief is different and this experience is peculiar to my own.
In less deep-thought-type news I really don't like the dopey blue uniforms worn by major league baseball clubs for father's day any more than I like the dopey pink ones for mother's day but I guess it's just another way to make a buck and that's what we're about in America and who am I to judge?
Someone somewhere has to have invented a "Cats in the Cradle" cocktail right? Maybe some chain like TGI Fridays could have a "drown your memories of lousy parenting either by or to you with our tasty Cats in the Cradle cocktail! " What would go in it? Don't tell me "three parts resentment, two parts regret, one part each psychotherapy and sadness". You can't buy that stuff at a liquor store.
Father's Day. Thought about going to the cemetery but remembered my dad said "come see me while I'm alive, I won't care when I'm dead" among other things so since it's so damn hot I'm staying home and thinking of him a bit. The thing that nobody tells you about burying loved ones is how two different and distinct feelings will emerge from time to time, one is "I wish you were here to ask about this (insert very mundane but useful thing that the person could have helped you with)" and the other is "Now I know what it is like to be (insert an age), I understand better why you were the way you were and how dumb I was". Then again maybe everybody's grief is different and this experience is peculiar to my own.
In less deep-thought-type news I really don't like the dopey blue uniforms worn by major league baseball clubs for father's day any more than I like the dopey pink ones for mother's day but I guess it's just another way to make a buck and that's what we're about in America and who am I to judge?
Someone somewhere has to have invented a "Cats in the Cradle" cocktail right? Maybe some chain like TGI Fridays could have a "drown your memories of lousy parenting either by or to you with our tasty Cats in the Cradle cocktail! " What would go in it? Don't tell me "three parts resentment, two parts regret, one part each psychotherapy and sadness". You can't buy that stuff at a liquor store.
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