Father’s Day isn’t really a big deal for me… my father’s dead. I noticed that many people had changed their FB picture to that of their fathers. Sure, I have some pleasant memories of the man who fathered me…but they’re few… He died when I was 17, he was 43 years old. For every good memory I have there are three of him drunk-the one that stays with me is of him at Parent’s Weekend when I was in 9th or 10th grade. He was flirting with one of the older girls… drunkish, of course. Mortified.
I spent yesterday doing a little de-cluttering. It all began because I couldn’t find the deed to my property which resulted in my getting paperwork filed carefully in labeled files so the kids would know where things were should I die. Household chores too. I thought I’d feel more accomplished by the end of the day, but….. I sorted all the plastic containers matching them up with lids. Lids are like socks … where does the partner go? Of course I keep all the stray lids hoping the container will miraculously appear. I also sorted socks and organized the panty/bra drawer. And, to cap off an evening of mindless television I went through the huge stack of New Yorkers and marked ones with articles I want to read… the rest are in the recycling bin.
Then, glass two of a semi-decent Pinot Noir in hand, I emailed with some guy from Kansas on Match. I’m sure he was, like me, killing time. When I asked why he was talking to me, and who he ‘really’ was-he disappeared. I also got 3 different men trying to IM me. I must admit that I’m pretty jaded at this point and ignored all of them, even the one who was somewhat local. Yesterday was another one of those mysterious wink days. Four this time. I’m jaded by the pranking or spam type profiles and because the profile and personality of “Mike” make it hard for me to even get excited about some guy who is writing mundane, misspelled egocentric crap.
I finished the evening with an audiobook by Benjamin Black, Elegy for Amy, read by Timothy Dalton. Great voice for that book. Benjamin Black is the penname for John Banville, an acclaimed British author. They’re good books, this is #3 in the series. Detective/mystery.
And, for no particular reason this song sprang to mind this morning. I saw Blood, Sweat and Tears when I was a teenager. I went with my cousin; he was probably forced to take me. He died in his late 40′s. He’d be 56 right now. Had a heart attack in the sauna at the gym!