Melancholy. →[More:] My dad was prone to fits of melancholy. I think it comes with the genes of all Polish, Ukrainian and Russian men.

He passed away in 1995, about 20 years after his cousin (he had no siblings, so he was quite close to his cousins, especially Jerry, who was his same age). Uncle Jerry died of testicular cancer before Lance Armstrong made it cool.

There was a tradition, when my family got together with Uncle Jerry's family. We sang Bohemia Hall.

Tonight, I watched my Texas Rangers lose to the Baltimore Orioles. For some reason I decided to drink Black Russians (vodka with a splash of Kahlua). Then it hit me: Out of the three boys in my family, I was the one that was a sports fan like my dad. And I got melancholy.

Melancholy is a strange emotion. It consists of a deep sadness combined with an appreciation for good times passed. It's an emotion that I simultaneously despise and love. I love it because it is a hard connection I have with my deceased dad. And when I'm both melancholy and drunk, Bohemia Hall always comes to mind.

I posted on Facebook the Bohemia Hall link above to my brothers and also to Uncle Jerry's sons. But the melancholy is so strong in me tonight I felt the need to share it with Metachat as well (aren't you lucky?)

This post is brought to you by Melacholy and Drunk Posting. That is all.