EULOGY FOR MY FATHER

I just returned from the unveiling of my father's tombstone. Following is a transcript of the eulogy I read. At the end of the text you will find a link to a photographic record of the event.

WHAT WAS MY FATHER'S LIFE?

My father's life was work.

Early each morning of his working life, he stole quietly through the house so as not to wake his sleeping wife and daughters. His rituals were as careful as a rabbi's prayers, his routines as unvaried as a soldier's. A shave and shower, a modest breakfast, a long walk to the subway where he caught the same train each day; and then long days of unstinting labor at a factory where he counted down the hours until his return to the warmth of his home, where his wife had a hot meal waiting at 6 pm each night.

I remember visiting my father at work. With his shirtsleeves rolled, he was like a Hercules to me. One of the healthiest, most physically powerful men I've ever known, he withstood the hardships of the sweatshop with ease, shrugging off the killing heats of New York summers when the steam presses made the factory an inferno. It was hard, thankless work, but he endured it with humor. It was dangerous, too. Sometimes he appeared at the supper table with a bandage on his hand where a sewing needle had pierced him to the bone. Had one of us been wounded, he would have suffered loudly; but his own wounds he bore in silent dignity, to spare us worry.

WHAT WAS MY FATHER'S LIFE?

My father's life was sacrifice.

He was a union man, a dependable man; he was the salt of the earth. My father fulfilled the American dream, carrying Old World values to these shores. He provided us with all the important things: a safe home in a decent neighborhood, plenty to eat, sturdy clothes, and even some left over for frills like country vacations and tickets to Broadway shows. The stitches he sewed paid for my piano lessons, my sister's prom dress, roses for my mother every Valentine's Day. Yet he was never proud of his work. The Holocaust had destroyed his chances of advanced education. For him, factory work was the price of ensuring his family's security.

For himself, my father wanted nothing. His family was all the treasure he asked of life. And if he didn't like his work, he was devoted to its purpose: to provide for the ones he loved.

WHAT WAS MY FATHER'S LIFE?

My father's life was joy in life.

When he was healthy and strong, my father inhaled the pleasures of being alive with every breath. He loved a good joke and was equally fond of bad puns. He loved to read, to play soccer and ping-pong, to travel, to take long walks, to argue politics and philosophy, to discuss literature passionately, to rail against injustices, to meet people and absorb new ideas, to be awed by beauty. He soaked life in: the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Alive to everything, he was a poet of the heart.

People liked him too. Wherever he went, he made friends. Gentle, funny, affable, handsome, charming, kind, respectful, affectionate, and always eager for conversation, my father was one of the world's truly decent men. People enjoyed his playfulness and more than that, they respected him.

WHAT WAS MY FATHER'S LIFE?

My father's life were the lessons he taught me.

First, above all, respect yourself. Don't let this dirty world corrupt your inner soul.

Second, understand what it is to be a decent, moral human being. Educate yourself. Probe deep into art, literature, music, philosophy. Then act on what you've learned.

Third, keep your feet on the ground but have big dreams. Dream of the stars. Dream of heaven. Never deny yourself the magic of longing for greatness, no matter how humble your circumstances.

Fourth, take a stand against hypocrisy and injustice. Oppose the common enemy: ignorance. Resist the forces of darkness. "Some people hate angels," he once said.

Finally, there is no greater blessing or challenge than to be a human being. There is no greater honor than to make sacrifices for what you love.

WHAT WAS MY FATHER'S LIFE?

My father's life was his wife, his children and his grandchildren. My father's life is within us and because of this, my father still lives.

God bless you, Dad. Thank you for your sacrifices. You are in our hearts. Everything we achieve is your achievement.

If you would like to see a photographic record
of the unveiling, please continue on to

PHOTOS FROM THE UNVEILING

October 5, 1999

THE UNVEILING

Although my family know I'm a sadomasochist, they've never shown any curiosity about it. If they are curious, they are too uneasy about it to ask. It never comes up in conversation unless I bring it up. I occasionally talk about it to my sister, who was one of the first people I came out to in 1987. She is a licensed social worker so she is occupationally sympathetic. While she isn't exactly enthusiastic when I talk about SM, she does her best to listen without criticism. Her best is pretty good, actually.

My mother is an elderly lady from the old country. The "S" word never issues from her lips. That's "S" as in sex. I'm not even sure she can pronounce "sadomasochist" --nor would she want to. (She once characterized Dr. Ruth Westheimer as a "filth monger.") I confess I would pay good money to hear Mom say, just once, in her thick, quirky accent, "Vat? You like keenky (whisper) sex?? (shriek) OY GEVALT!" as she dramatically slaps her little wrinkled cheeks with both palms--the gesture which typically accompanies her highly dramatic declarations of simple facts.

Some years back, I showed up for a lunch-date in full leather. My mother took one long look at me, threw her hands up in the air, and cried, "You look so artistic!"

Is it congenital madness or environmental denial? I'll never know for sure.

On the other hand, I guess there is an art to being a sadomasochist.

Anyway....I'll have a laptop with me on this trip and plan to log on every day. But if you look for me on AOL next Monday night, don't be surprised if I arrive late or not at all. I'm not sure yet just where I'll be that night. All I can say for now is: Have phoneline, will connect.

While away, I'll faithfully continue collecting and monitoring the BDSM/fetish surveys that come in.

And Speaking of the Survey....

THANK YOU THANK YOU to all you sweet people who have submitted surveys! You are turning this study into something truly fantastic! My special thanks to those who've posted announcements on mailing lists, talked about it in chat rooms, and flown banners on your site in support of this project.

It's still way too early to predict anything (the survey has been running less than a week), but one thing I can say about it is that the response has been literally overwhelming. So overwhelming, indeed, that the traffic has twice jammed my AOL mailbox. Amazing!

I expect the rate of submissions to dwindle as the deadline nears. But I already have accumulated enough surveys to confidently state that this will be a large-scale sexological study, perhaps one of the larger ones ever done. I will keep you informed of the survey's progress in future updates to this page.

And Speaking of Updates....

My forthcoming book, COME HITHER: A Common Sense Guide to Kinky Sex (Simon & Schuster, February 2000) is in the final stages of production. Today I shipped off the last set of galley proofs I will ever see for this book. The cover art has been completed; the copy for the back cover is done; and an index to the book is in the works. Everything's moving along smoothly. As soon as my editor allows it, I'll get some free excerpts up on this site for your browsing pleasure.

I'll be back at my desk on October 13th. Write to you then!

Check out the brand new column for October 1999 by bob harris in PERSPECTIVES OF A MALE SUBMISSIVE

What do Carmelite nuns and lifestyle slaves have in common? Find out in SM Perspectives, where readers confess all.

My AOL CHATS HAVE MOVED to a new day and time. Talk to me on AOL on Mondays at 10 p.m.

The first-place winner of the Fall 1999 Erotic Fiction Contest was just announced. Read Will's comments on the submissions, and the first of the stories.

Please don't forget to take the BDSM/fetish survey! Deadline November 15, 1999