All My Little Words

Getting to work today harder than ever. Still, I left a little early, maybe with some crazy idea that the sooner I got here, the sooner I could leave? I just have to keep reminding myself that I only have to get thru 4 hours. Then I can go home.

On June 6^th, 2006, Bobby came down from Heaven, drunk on whiskey and wearing a tie. We were friends right away, exchanging knowing glances and sly grins. Bobby took life in stride more than anyone I’ve ever met. I remember being really surprised the night that he arrived, and Reno told me he was taking the bus from SeaTac. He thought absolutely nothing of it, and I later learned that Bobby just wasn’t the kind of person that asked for a ride from the airport, or would have thought to take a cab or a shuttle. He’d show up in town by the seat of his pants, with little more than the clothes on his back, and a few bucks in his wallet.

That first night, neither Reno nor Bobby even had money to take the bus, so after getting off of a flight from Chicago, and taking a bus to Belltown from the airport, Bobby walked with Reno up to Capital Hill to the Comet.
Bobby had broken his arm in Chicago, and was sporting a bright pink cast. He will wear that cast in my memory forever, even though he did eventually get it off, and I have seen him plenty without it. The cast stayed on for months though, and when it came off it was replaced by another. Bobby had the cast on for the first 6.5 months I knew him, which is why it’s easier for me to remember it on than off.

Bobby had an infectious grin and a great laugh. He always looked great in his hodge podge wardrobe that consisted of a wide variety of Vibrators t-shirts, dress pants that were always just a bit too small but looked great anyway, and a pair of Vans that he wore well after the expiration date had come and gone. I always felt good when I was around Bobby. I never had a single problem with him, we never found a thing to disagree about. We always had a great time, and he was one of the few people I know who would always show up.

The last time he was here was around Thanksgiving again, and I didn’t see him as much as I’d have liked to, but he showed up for Thanksgiving Friday, again taking the bus, this time from the ferry from one of the islands, I think Bainbridge. That was the thing about Bobby. If you invited him, he’d come, and he’d get himself there, never complaining about whatever means it took to get to where ever you were, no matter how much it might seem like an inconvenience to any other person.

I never really heard Bobby complain about much of anything. He was always a pleasure to be around. That first summer he was here, he barely had two pennies to rub together because there wasn’t much he could do for work in that cast. He did what he could though, and because he never said boo about being poor, and always managed get by, I was always more than happy to give him a place to sleep and as much food as I could stuff in him. He was always appreciative, and had good manners.

One morning that first summer, we were at Reno’s and Bobby went outside, I guess looking for someone to bum a smoke off of. There was a homeless guy outside, and Bobby talked to him for awhile. He came back with a few cigarettes, a beer, and some spare change. That’s what kind of a guy Bobby was. He didn’t ask for all that, but he was such a likeable guy that this homeless person who had nothing gave Bobby probably half of what little he did have. Bobby wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he accepted these meager gifts gratefully, I think even sharing them with others.

He left to go back to Chicago at some point, to get that damn cast off, and returned a few days before Thanksgiving with a black one. He was at that first Thanksgiving Friday, and I was glad to see a lot of him that next month before he left again on Christmas Day.

He had this coat that time around that was both awful and perfectly stylish, all at the same time. Really, no one else could have gotten away with wearing that coat, but he rocked it. At one point that winter Bobby lost his coat, or it got locked in someone’s house and he couldn’t get it. There he was, walking around in the freezing cold in a T-SHIRT. After a while he somehow found a vacant apartment, and managed to get inside. He wrapped himself in some curtains and went to sleep on the floor. When I heard about this, I decided that Bobby needed a better coat anyway, and a few days before Christmas, Liz and I set out to buy him one. We finally found one, and the next day, we presented him with a big gift-wrapped box. I’ve never seen anyone so surprised to get a gift, and when he saw the coat, tears streamed down his cheeks. I have never felt better about giving anyone anything.

Bobby was beautiful inside and out. I’ve never met anyone so photogenic in my life. I didn’t realize how many pictures I have of him until now. My camera seemed to be drawn to him, and there is not a single one in which he actually looks bad. He was a handsome devil and a sweet guy. I’d have trusted him with my very life.

He went back up to Heaven on January 19^th, 2008, still drunk on whiskey and wearing a tarnished and slightly dented halo. I don’t know if he was sent to be our Guardian Angel, or if he simply grew bored and slipped through the Pearly Gates when no one was looking to come down here and enjoy a little Earthly pleasure.

Alex and I were looking at his pictures today and this one made us laugh and laugh.

When we were done, we saw that there were the most amazing purple clouds in the sky, all lit up with the most amazing rosy orange glow I’ve ever seen. I imagined that it was Bobby’s megawatt grin lighting up the sky with his delight as he laughed with us, his one size too small wings slightly askew, and those damn Vans still coming up apart at the seams.

I love you Bobby. We all do. Since you have been gone, I’ve felt you with me in a dozen different ways. That sunset the other day, the brightest moonlight I’ve ever seen that night. Yesterday, I sat outside and watched cigarette smoke swirl through a gentle sunbeam like a ghost. That must have been you. Monday night Heather and I were talking about you, and some stupid guy from Buffalo started asking us stupid questions, and when he was gone I told her that I was sure it must have been you playing a prank on us somehow. Then yesterday, I went to get some straight pins and found a whole package of safety pins that I’d bought for you because you were always asking me for them to pin your shit together.

I am privileged to have known you and to be able to call you my friend. These past few days, remembering you, I have laughed more than I cried because you are a delight. Thank you for being you. Thank you for being there. Thanks for some of the best times ever.

And thank you Reno, for introducing us.

I’ll see ya someday, Bob. Sooner than later.

(all photos by Isabella Borlo, except the Johnny Walker Red Alley shot, by Tyler Lee Soverns)

Was just reading on the Slog a follow up to the Siberian tiger attack at the SF zoo – one of the guys mauled confessed that they were standing on the wall, waving their arms and yelling. Someone commented that he’d heard that the kid who was killed was embarrassed by his friends, but tried to save them by luring the tiger away. I wanted to comment, but it seems pointless, so I figured I’d make my point here.

No one will ever truly know what happened that day but those 3 guys and the tiger and half of those in the know are dead.
Certainly, the enclosure wall was not high enough. It seems like the top of the wall at the tiger enclosure at Woodland Park is about 20 feet from the bottom of the “moat”, and the “moat” itself seems impossibly wide. It can’t imagine even a wild tiger in tip top shape being able to jump the empty expanse between the edge of it’s area and the wall, which is several feet higher, but I still don’t hang over the railing, nor do I let my son climb up on that rail for a better look as some parents do. Even if the tiger can’t jump to where we are, we could feasibly fall in, and I wouldn’t blame any tiger who jumped down to the bottom of the empty canyon that separates them from the wall to eat a tasty human.
I was a stupid teenager once, and I remember what it was like to do stupid things (although I would never have done anything like this, this is BEYOND STUPID) and the fact that one of the survivors confessed to something leads me to believe that there is more. If he said that they were on the wall, they were probably inside the enclosure. It is unlikely that he would confess everything right off.

Finally, you just don’t taunt animals. How mean. Like I said, even as a stupid teenager it would have occurred to me that I could fall into the tiger enclosure and that the tiger would then eat me. I wouldn’t want to tease a tiger. Again, how mean. I don’t blame the tiger, and anyone that mean deserves a good mauling. As someone else said, there are only something like 5000 tigers left in the world, due mostly to human cruelty and greed, but there are millions of stupid teenagers, and billions of stupid people. Poor tiger.

I periodically check in on the house I moved out of this past summer, which is up for sale. The Zillow estimate on it has been consistently lower than the asking price of 600k all along. By a good amount. So imagine my surprise when I decide to take a look this morning, after having read all these dire things about the economy, sub-prime mortgages and the Seattle housing bubble having burst, and see that the estimate is now HIGHER than the asking price. Significantly higher. The “value range” has also gone up, substantially. By my recollection, all the figures are up by about 100k. Yet it says the 30 day change is only 10k. I don’t see how it could go up AT ALL, much less as much as it seems to have. I could be misremembering what they showed before, but I don’t think I would be off by 90k+. I have looked a number of times, and believe I wrote about it here. I’ll have to look back. Could there be something shady afoot? Is it possible that the owners or listing agent could have paid to have the estimate raised? I wouldn’t be surprised.

In addition to the fact that the market is tanking and I think the asking price is way too high anyway, this house has been sitting on the market for 3 months already. Something’s not right here.