Tonight, people came over to our house to watch Barbarella. I was not surprised at all by its failure to age well, but that's because it was awful the first time I watched it. It did succeed in being completely terrible in a really funny and entertaining way. I dunno, if a bad movie becomes a camp/cult classic, maybe that is aging well. Those who hadn't seen it before were amused and traumatized in equal measure, and I call that a win.
It's Father's Day. I called my stepdad to wish him happy Father's Day. Talked to my Mom for a while. Missed my Dad in moments.
I had a dream about my father a couple nights ago. I can't really remember much about it, but I know it had something to do with doing something effective about a series of heart attacks. (There was a hospital in an enormous brick building, and I remember the phrase "pericardial tamponade", oddly enough.) I've had a number of dreams about him since he died. Sometimes they involve him not being dead anymore, or undoing his death, or something that won't work because he's dead, but they always acknowledge in one way or another that he has died. Strangely enough, many of them (like this one) end up feeling comforting more than anything else. It's kind of like we've had a conversation across the boundary or something. I may cry in the dream, but by the time I've awakened, I feel at worst sort of wistfully bittersweet. I guess it's because even though he's gone, I still have a sense of him.
Happy Father's Day to baronet, drdeleto, fufachew, goobermunch, lvlndlthr, nematsakis, ng_nighthawk, t_stop, toosuto, walrusjester, and all the other fathers (bio, step, and otherwise) that I know!