Long-time readers of this blog might recall that last year, my long-time friend who worked at NASA developed stomach cancer. We had been friends since we were 13. He decided to go the chemotherapy/radiation route, even though he was pretty certain it would end up killing him.
It did. Last night.
So I want to take it kind of easy here this morning before I have to head in to work.
It is a truly lovely morning here, so it is a perfect morning to just sit in peace for a while and remember him.
(As an aside, anyone who knows me from my girlhood, knows that I was absolutely in love with the Rolling Stones from the time I was 11. I think it’s curious that my mom died earlier this year, on Brian Jones’s birthday, and my friend died last night, on Mick Jagger’s birthday. Just interesting.)
Kent was so smart, so funny. So well-read. He was the one who first introduced me to writers like Ray Bradbury, Hunter S. Thompson, Kurt Vonnegut, Tom Robbins, Richard Brautigan — all when I was 14. In fact, he gave me this now legendary book of poems by Brautigan, which I never actually liked:
He was the first one to alert me to this weird new songwriter, Tom Waits, whom I ended up adoring.
We got along so well, even though we were so different from each other — he was an atheist, a pessimist, a scientist with a PhD in geology.
He was gay, lived alone in Houston, had cats, grew flowers, traveled the world in search of ancient rocks. He studied moon rocks at NASA.
He was fascinated by the process of radiation and chemotherapy, and liked to talk about it in detail, even though it made me sick to my stomach just to hear about it. He knew it was going to kill him, but the science of it still fascinated him.
They attempted to put him into hospice last night, but he only lived a couple hours after they transferred him there from the hospital.
I hesitate to tell him to Rest In Peace, because I would rather he just have a really great and wild time, wherever it is he’s gone to.
I will miss him. The last time he and I hung out together was a couple summers ago at the Granville Inn. He was in Ohio, visiting his family, before he knew he had cancer. We had a splendid evening.
And now I never even go to the inn anymore because they have absolutely ruined that place. After almost 100 years, the Leftists came in and are eviscerating its history. I wish I were kidding, or exaggerating.
Anyway. As you know, the news is extremely intense all over the world right now. Tarot by Janine had an encouraging take on it. Her video is below. St e w P e t ers had some very alarming news for Americans and that is also below, along with x 2 2 r e port and ch * rlie w * rd and mel k.
Have a beautiful day, gang, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.
(I leave you with my all-time favorite Tom Waits song, “Jockey Full of Bourbon,” from his legendary album, Rain Dogs, 1984. Enjoy.)