Confessions of a Liberal Puritan

(This f---ing university library computer, which insists that it is in fact Aug. 26 of 2002 and 8:16 in the morning -- a fact that totally escaped me before I tried to post the journal entry I spent the last hour writing, in which I poured my heart out, etc., -- has managed to completely lose my post, since LJ won't let you post more than two years in the past and gave me no chance to change that date and time, blast them, or go back and find that lost copy. So, here's the short and dirty version of what was once much longer and somewhat profound.)

I taped The Mountain last night and watched it this morning, just for the sake of James Marsters' guest appearance as "Ted", Sam's alcoholic-but-sort-of-fun-to-be-around-when-he's-sober-and-on-a-manic-kick father. Aside from Ted and the 'kids' (the three youngest regular cast members, I believe) who gathered around him, I honestly couldn't care less about this show, nor would I ever watch it again, unless JM makes future guest appearances.

However, while writing my earlier (and now lost forever) post on JM's performance and how weird it was that I was able to enjoy it, since I usually react very negatively to depictions of highly irresponsible fathers, no matter how charming and no matter how muscular and nicely tattooed their forearms are when they hug people (which I just couldn't help but notice), I got to wondering if it might have something to do with the fact that, at the very hour I sat down to write in my journal, my own father was undergoing minor surgery in Wisconsin to install a pacemaker in his heart.( Read more... )

And perhaps it's not coincidental that my Mom's phone call last night was shortly followed by another long-distance call, this time from the dear friend in Iowa who took me into her home when she barely knew me, so that I could more easily pursue my German studies before starting the PhD program here, and who has been among the most loyal and loving and unfailingly selfless of friends ever since. Hearing from this loving friend reminded me that I have formed and continue to form my own "families of choice" which continue to provide me with the sense of belonging and emotional safety that my own biological family hasn't always been able to maintain. Even though no parents are immortal and no parents are perfect, we all survive. We make our own additional families, through marriage and friendship and mutual loyalty and commitment, and as long as we live we continue to find loving souls along our way, who remind us that we are not alone in the night, after all.