Certainty

I suppose therefore that all things I see are illusions;  I believe that nothing has ever existed of everything my lying memory tells me.  I think I have no senses.  I believe that body, shape, extension, motion, location are functions.  What is there then that can be taken as true?  Perhaps only this one thing, that nothing at all is certain.
―     René Descartes
[Originally posted on one of the blogs I follow:  Tolerating Mir.  This quote reminds me of the endings of the TV shows “St Elsewhere” and “Newhart“.  The first show ran for several years and at the final series end was shown to be the imaginings of an autistic child.  Needless to say, the writers were lambasted by the folks who had spent many hours of their lives viewing (investing personally in??) the show.  The second show, “Newhart“, ran over half a decade and the twist in this ending was the main character waking up in bed with the wife from a TV series of the prior decade.   Although, the new series was thought to be a bad dream for the characters in the old series, as a nod to his wife in the current series, Bob asks the old series wife to wear more sweaters.    —    kmab]
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Thinking About Fathers

I grew up in a divorced family, living with my mother, older sister and younger brother.  This was back in the early “baby boom” years when it was fairly uncommon to be in a single parent household.  Now, of course, the reverse is true and single parents are the norm, not the exception.  Anyway, I was lucky and had lots of friends with Dad’s to serve as “father figures” at arms length.
The older I got, the more I realized being a father was always a two-sided coin:  someone had to earn the food and shelter, but someone also had to be “Dad”.
Two songs from way back when remind me of this duality: how we’d like to be and how we probably end up.  The two songs are:  “Cat’s In The Cradle” and “Color Him Father“.  I personally think “Cat’s” reads better lyrically, but “Color” listens better.
As always, read and enjoy the lyrics and then go listen to the songs.  I look forward to your comments on how you remember your own Dad’s…
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