Like most people, I am far more haunted by my failures than I am buoyed by my triumphs. The last month of the year is particularly hard for me in this respect — I usually spend the month of December in a sticky spiral of "what-ifs" and "I didn'ts," briefly blasted out by the light of holiday celebrations and culminating in a dark slide into a a hedonistic New Year's Eve. I wake up on January 1, my body and brain battered, and feel hopeful once more. But …
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Death of an Heir of Sorrows
David Berman meant a lot to me. Means a lot to me. "Advice to the Graduate" hit me right around when I graduated college, and its advice hums in my veins at regular intervals: always use the old sense of the word; the things that you do will always make your mother cry; don't believe in people who say it's all been done, they have time to talk because their race is run. Not that long ago I got snagged on that last bit, convinced that my race was one that …
“For every hour he spends with mankind he needs 3 hours in his closet” (letters from my father part 3)
Yesterday was the two-year anniversary of Harv's passing. I thought about him a lot, and I thought about how he would like to be remembered aside from my sharing his wisdom with strangers and friends (which he might have only secretly enjoyed). Though this is a heavy week, no doubt my dad would have wanted me to enjoy myself and think of the good times. And so, in that spirit, I'm posting a sweet, pretty light-hearted little number; also in that spirit I …