31 August 2010
30 August 2010
Secret 38
I question my motives for doing things over and over again, but half the time, I end up not doing anything.
29 August 2010
Secret 37
Sometimes I wonder if my emotions are really mine, or if they're just imitations of what other people feel.
28 August 2010
27 August 2010
26 August 2010
25 August 2010
24 August 2010
23 August 2010
22 August 2010
21 August 2010
Vultures
A week ago, my grandfather died. He was a classic Southern gentleman, though like us all, he had his faults.
I only met him once, but I liked him a lot; I felt a kinship with the gruff man I first saw in California.I can recognize his humor, his mannerisms, even some of his expressions in Dad and me. And now he's gone.
Grandad was an officer in the United States Armed Forces. He was involved in the NIKE missile defense systems during the Cold War - he had fantastic aim. But he ended up alienating many people during his career.
Now that he's died, people who avoided him for years have come out of the woodwork. Not out of sentimentality. Not because they liked him, or he liked them. No. Because he had stuff.
Who gets his truck? Where's the will? What about that bank account? The trailer? His guns? Whose the inheritor?
I get that they're family. I get that his daughter should be provided for. I even get that his wife is still legally married to him, and thus should benefit from his death.
But it's disgraceful, dishonorable, wrong. Bickering over the effects of a dead man the way vultures might fight over a piece of carrion is shameful, vulgar, contemptible. Like magpies jousting over a piece of dirty aluminum foil.
To see my relatives care more about the physical objects Grandad left behind rather than the man himself makes me cringe. I loved my Grandad, and to see him diminished to the value of a trailer full of stuff breaks my heart. And I hate it.
B
I only met him once, but I liked him a lot; I felt a kinship with the gruff man I first saw in California.I can recognize his humor, his mannerisms, even some of his expressions in Dad and me. And now he's gone.
Grandad was an officer in the United States Armed Forces. He was involved in the NIKE missile defense systems during the Cold War - he had fantastic aim. But he ended up alienating many people during his career.
Now that he's died, people who avoided him for years have come out of the woodwork. Not out of sentimentality. Not because they liked him, or he liked them. No. Because he had stuff.
Who gets his truck? Where's the will? What about that bank account? The trailer? His guns? Whose the inheritor?
I get that they're family. I get that his daughter should be provided for. I even get that his wife is still legally married to him, and thus should benefit from his death.
But it's disgraceful, dishonorable, wrong. Bickering over the effects of a dead man the way vultures might fight over a piece of carrion is shameful, vulgar, contemptible. Like magpies jousting over a piece of dirty aluminum foil.
To see my relatives care more about the physical objects Grandad left behind rather than the man himself makes me cringe. I loved my Grandad, and to see him diminished to the value of a trailer full of stuff breaks my heart. And I hate it.
B
20 August 2010
19 August 2010
18 August 2010
17 August 2010
16 August 2010
15 August 2010
14 August 2010
Secret 22
I don't want to grow up because adults seem to have lost all their creativity. They've become brittle, unchangeable, not malleable, and stagnant.
13 August 2010
12 August 2010
Secret 20
I'm cynical because if I can believe other people aren't what they seem to be, I don't feel so bad.
11 August 2010
10 August 2010
09 August 2010
08 August 2010
07 August 2010
06 August 2010
05 August 2010
04 August 2010
03 August 2010
01 August 2010
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