Do Yourself A Favor

Go over to Pharyngula, and read No Regrets Like Christmas Regrets

I’m not even sure what to say about this. A masterful example of literary excellence. This is without a doubt the single most moving piece of self-reflection I have read in a very long time.

Woe be unto him who, like me, assumed that P.Z. Myers’ only writing gift was the sledgehammer of in-your-face piss-off-I-am-not-amused ranting.

I admit it. It brought more than one tear to my eyes. It cut very close to the bone, my father being a carpenter and my having made a similar careless remark in my youth, with similar results.

I also share the nagging guilt for that thoughtlessly cruel remark, though my father is still alive.

Kudos, Dr. Myers.  I doubt I could have ever expressed myself nearly as well as you have here.   You have “waxed damned near poetic”, to borrow Janie’s phrase.

2 Responses to “Do Yourself A Favor”

  1. Robyn Says:

    This is a poignant story, and to think he holds on to his guilt after all these years…I caught my breath at the description of his father’s hands–the rough and gnarled texture and nails and washing with industrial goop. My father was a union carpenter for 40 years, and he worked hard every day there was work–climbing and building in weather I wouldn’t even walk to the mail box in. He would come home every day and wash up with some white slop that was actually called GOOP.

    I know I said terrible things to my father in my callous youthful years, and I have just recently worked through beating myself up about it. What’s done is done.

  2. Lou FCD Says:

    I’m happy to hear you’ve had more success in taming your guilt demons than have I, Robyn.

    Someday perhaps I’ll manage, but not today.

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