Links and notes on a Tuesday

The hiatus continues from serious blogging, but not from notes and links.  Here's some of what I've been reading:

Piny at Feministe brings up an extraordinarily ugly story about a man seducing a "fat chick"; the wretch inadvertently makes a powerful point about male anxiety and the compulsive need to seek approval from other men.  (A point I made here in April.)  Read the comments section.

Camassia, who worships at my old church, has a good post on Mel Gibson, judgment, and bigotry.

Victoria at Southern (DIS)Comfort has a long list of books for sale, many of which are on feminism and theology and all of which look interesting.   Deep discounts, folks!

Illustrating my point about the grace that so often can accompany divorce, a lovely comment from Don (my step-mother's first husband) on my post about my late father moved me deeply this morning.

I haven't "updated" on my grief about my father.  It's been a month and a half now since he died.  I suppose I think a little bit about him every day.  Last week, watching coverage of the war in Lebanon, I had an urge to call him to chat politics -- and it hit me (for the first time) that I couldn't get him on the phone anymore.  I had actually begun to walk towards the phone when that realization hit.   Folks continue to share their memories of him with me, and that is a great comfort.

And thanks to their appearance on Prairie Home Companion this weekend, I've become obsessed with the Wailin Jennys.  Obsessed.

Oh, and comment counts are not showing up beneath posts.  You need to check "recent comments" on the right-hand sidebar to see which posts have new comments.  Typepad promises a solution soon.

Comments

[Victoria]

Hey Hugo,

Thank ye kindly for the link, however do note, it's Southern Discomfort.

While I am, as a matter of bizarre fact, named after the granddaughter of the founder of the Southern Comfort whiskey empire (she and my parents were friends back in their days at William and Mary), the dis in Discomfort here is pertinent: insofar as I have a specific ambivalence about being in the South; and, of course, insofar as "whiskey" itself was rather ruined for me, on account of a certain homicidal ex-girlfriend (as in: had an actual record for attempted murder).

Plus, there's the wonderful book titled Southern Discomfort by Virginia's own Rita Mae Brown. It was the first novel of hers I ever read. (A major eye-opener for the child of 14 I then was.)

Hope that clears things up :-)

Take care - V.

[Hugo]

Whoops. My drinking days come back to haunt me again.

[Victoria]

My goodness, but you are quick!

[glendenb]

Hugo

Thank you for sharing about your grieving. I wish I could say there's a time you stop thinking, "Oh I should share that with . . . " but I don't know if there is. I was very close to my grandmother who died December, 2005. For weeks after her death, I'd find myself driving out of my way to go visit her in the nursing home. I'd slow down at the coffee shop to get her a cup. I don't think we ever stop missing our loved ones after they die - I think we learn to live with the empty place in our lives.

Maybe I'm being maudlin - it's not unprecedented.

[BriBri]

Hugo, I'm such an idiot, I haven't told you yet how sorry I am about your father!! My greatest fear in the whole world is losing my parents. My parents are young still, dad is turning 50 next year... I read your dad's obituary, and it's beautiful. If you learned how to be a teacher from him, then I as one of your students feel I should be grateful to him.

[didi]

Great album! Thanks for sharing that.

[Sydney]

I lost my father as well some years ago. Even now, I sometimes reach the phone to call him before I realize what I'm doing. And every once in a while, when a stranger calls, it actually sounds like him, if only for a brief moment. That's when I catch my breath. Then I realize immediately it's someone else.

My heart goes out to you. Hang in there, Hugo.

[Camassia]

Hugo, I've also been remiss in not offering condolences about losing your father, not to mention your chincilla! Yeah, after a close friend died three years ago I had a lot of those, "I should talk to him about..." moments. I did find they diminished over time though, and I don't remember when the last one was.

With pets, I found that they kept visiting me in dreams. After a while it got so common to dream about my cat that his appearance actually caused me to realize I was dreaming, even while I was still asleep. Even so, I kind of enjoyed it, as it was so vivid -- I could feel his fur and everything. May Mathilda visit your dreams!