Sunday Morning Post (V.2, #24): Reflections on Dad and a Grand Dame

First Reflection: on Father

Today is Father’s Day, and if my Dad were still around, I would try to track down a supply of his favorite delicacy: oysters.  I don’t recall that he would ever treat himself to a meal of these at home, but if they were on the menu wherever we were when we went out, he would make sure to order them.  It didn’t matter if they were fried or in a stew, they were fair game. 

Another random thought about my father:  given today’s racial tensions — which seem to spike and ebb with passing events — I believe my father would have understood why tensions are so great right now.  I have no doubt that he was exposed to a lot of ethnic vulgarities as he grew up in Northeast Philadelphia, but he was careful not to expose my brother and I to the same environment.  I only recall that he only uttered one racist term in all the years I knew him.  I refuse to believe that one offense should be used to judge his beliefs throughout his lifetime.  

So, I will take a moment today to think about Raymond Thomas Gunther and all the wonderfulness he did impart to both of his sons.  Thanks, Dad.

Second Reflection: Dame Vera Lynn

I am almost embarrassed to say that I was introduced to Vera Lynn, as many of us were, by Stanley Kubrick.  His use of her best remembered performance (We’ll Meet Again) at the end of his surreal satire on modern global political confrontations was a worthy use of the song’s optimism for mankind’s survival.  Dr. Strangelove was fictional, of course, but the “what if’s” of the films premise is not very comforting.  Fortunately, Vera Lynn offered the comfort a full generation before when a very real confrontation threatened to destroy the world.

I was saddened to hear of her passing this week at the relatively young age of 103.  From all that I have read about her she appears to have lived a nice full life. She lived long enough to see her song inspire all of us again for the current global health crisis.  No doubt it will continue to be used in the future to help us all get through this sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse called life.

We’ll remember her and her message here with a performance from the same titled film released in 1943.

(Thank you for reading.  RIP Dame Vera Lynn.)