I've been working on a bit of fiction forever that might not ever see the light. I sometimes fear I've lost the touch. Just don't have it like I used to. Was also planning to put up a little something something about Prometheus, which with luck will still come later in the week.
At the moment, though, it seems appropriate to make mention of a... hmm. You know, I'm not sure the proper term here. I haven't been friends with a single person longer than I've been friends with Drew. He was the first person to speak to me when I moved to Jasonville in second grade. He's one of the few people from the Midwest that I still speak to on a semi-regular basis. He's a dear friend and an outstanding dude. So in part, I write this for him. For his family. But for the most part, I write this as a small ode to a man who made me laugh.
Drew's grandfather just died. I can't say that I knew Bob well. I have no idea what he did before retirement. I don't even know what he did in his spare time or what his favorite color was. I knew Bob in passing. I saw him around town on occasion or during holidays if I happened to be hanging with the family. We had maybe a handful of conversations at most.
What's important about Bob is in the title of this post. His last name was Austin, so we started calling him Stone Cold in high school. Dude didn't care. Hell, he seemed to like it. Always thought that was cool. Stone Cold was a funny ass fucking old man. Drew would tell stories about this random shit he'd do, and it was funny. I'd see him in town sometimes, usually at the gas station, and he'd make a comment or another about inane bullshit. Girl I had in my car or some noisy kids or something. Again, always funny. While my interactions with Bob were relatively limited... every one of them was enjoyable. As a whole, that's what I remember. I remember Stone Cold as a funny guy. When I think about him, even now when I'm writing this after his death, I still sort of giggle. Not because death is funny, but because the man left a fine impression on me. I can't think of him without smiling, because that man always made me smile. Every time.
I'm tempted to move on to some sort of philosophical point, but I feel that would demean what I'm doing here. This isn't about making a point or commenting on death or even being sad about the passing of a fine gentleman. This is just about Bob. And taking this chance to say thank you.
Stone Cold, thanks for always making me laugh. Looking back, I can see that high school was just a little bit better with the random times we'd speak. God speed, good sir.
So say we all.
At the moment, though, it seems appropriate to make mention of a... hmm. You know, I'm not sure the proper term here. I haven't been friends with a single person longer than I've been friends with Drew. He was the first person to speak to me when I moved to Jasonville in second grade. He's one of the few people from the Midwest that I still speak to on a semi-regular basis. He's a dear friend and an outstanding dude. So in part, I write this for him. For his family. But for the most part, I write this as a small ode to a man who made me laugh.
Drew's grandfather just died. I can't say that I knew Bob well. I have no idea what he did before retirement. I don't even know what he did in his spare time or what his favorite color was. I knew Bob in passing. I saw him around town on occasion or during holidays if I happened to be hanging with the family. We had maybe a handful of conversations at most.
What's important about Bob is in the title of this post. His last name was Austin, so we started calling him Stone Cold in high school. Dude didn't care. Hell, he seemed to like it. Always thought that was cool. Stone Cold was a funny ass fucking old man. Drew would tell stories about this random shit he'd do, and it was funny. I'd see him in town sometimes, usually at the gas station, and he'd make a comment or another about inane bullshit. Girl I had in my car or some noisy kids or something. Again, always funny. While my interactions with Bob were relatively limited... every one of them was enjoyable. As a whole, that's what I remember. I remember Stone Cold as a funny guy. When I think about him, even now when I'm writing this after his death, I still sort of giggle. Not because death is funny, but because the man left a fine impression on me. I can't think of him without smiling, because that man always made me smile. Every time.
I'm tempted to move on to some sort of philosophical point, but I feel that would demean what I'm doing here. This isn't about making a point or commenting on death or even being sad about the passing of a fine gentleman. This is just about Bob. And taking this chance to say thank you.
Stone Cold, thanks for always making me laugh. Looking back, I can see that high school was just a little bit better with the random times we'd speak. God speed, good sir.
So say we all.
