Another recovered post from last year...fortuitous...

Bob came by my cube twice today. At first, it was just to shoot the shit about his parents. How they were very old and ailing. "Just holding on" he called it. "They're so old they've just deteriorated so much. It's hard to watch sometimes. Whether you love 'em or hate 'em. "

Then he mentioned that he wanted to call a friend of his who he'd just found out last week was in the hospital. "He's this big old white guy. Huge personality. He's a great force and a LOT of fun. And I called last week to see if he wanted to go out sailing and found out he was in intensive care. Just like that".

Bob & I talked for a bit more about losing people we love and then we commiserated a little about how no one is prepared for death. We try to get ready, but as soon as our soul realizes that another soul that we care about has left the planet, well, there goes the old emotional equilibrium. After a few minutes we said good bye.

After lunch I started web reading about a dead Bay Area novelist, Amanda Davis. Only 32, she'd recently perished in a freak airplane accident and all her friends had written about how the loss was so stunning and premature. As I pondered this, I felt someone in my cube. It was Bob again and he was leaning against my desk, but bent over with his hands on his knees. He was crying. "He died. My friend just died." That's all he could get out for a few minutes. I jumped up and just hugged his hunched over back. Bob finally sighed and stood up.

"It's just so surreal. I just talked to you about him. I called his house to see when he was coming home and he's now he's not . Ever."

He chuckled softly. "Geez, I'll miss that guy. We sailed together to the Carribean--what a great crew-- and he was the Captain. I remember he was always so security minded. The safety line in the boat, it's kind of an idiot wire ...your last defense if you get tossed overboard. You grab on to it as you're going over. Well someone leaned ito it and it snapped. And this guy, he was great, he just swung into action. He sent one of us for more rope below and sent another to salvage what was left of the original line. And out there in the middle of nowhere, we rigged up something. He said we just had to have something."

Everybody's got to have something to hold onto , that last final security. And when it breaks, we try to fix it quickly to maintain the illusion of safety. But no one is safe...from death or from life. You could die tomorrow just as likely as have a stroke and become a shut in. Or you could just go to work and slack off. Or resolve to finally follow your dream of becoming a professional waiter. Who knows what's more likely to happen?

Be who you're gonna be. Right now. Why the hell not?


Me, my mom and sis in a Bombay taxi...back when I knew who I was going to be...