Love Advice

Damn Jake La Botz. He just had to go and conjure up memories I'd fought to suppress.

I don't talk about Rob much. Or rather, I don't write about him here. Especially here. His death still sits heavy on my heart and mind, but I don't talk about him much. What I feel and what I remember are far too personal to share with the world. Except, sometimes...

So this thing with Jake La exactly does it tie in with Rob? I was listening to this song and, like many of Jake's pieces, there was this rawness and abruptness, humor amongst the tenderness, irony in his observations. In most of Rob's stories, you could find all of this, and more. And damn if this guy didn't make me cry as I recalled some of the stories I was told.

But the crying isn't as awful as it used to be. It hurts to think of my friend being gone, but there's more of a peace to it now than there was before. When I think of Rob, whether during a conversation with friends or just stumbling across something that triggers a memory, I ache over the demons that haunted him and the loneliness of his final moments. Almost within the same breath, I smile with the thought of how he delighted in storytelling, entertaining, and his marvelous sense of humor. The mixture of these emotions and memories are as confusing as they are comforting. Comforting? Yeah. There's comfort in knowing my life was touched by such an extraordinary man.

And all of this came to a head a few weeks ago. I was talking with one of my guitar-slingin' friends, a man accomplished in the blues and many other musical genres. He's southern, of course. And there was something in his voice, something in the way he turned a phrase, something in the direction our conversation went...but we ended up talking about Rob and the legacy men and woman with his curious brand of "being" leave us when they go. Couple weeks after, this friend and I were talking again via long distance wirelessness, and this time he brought up our previous conversation. He wanted to know more about Rob and I told him. I gave him the link to Gut Rumbles. What better way to get to know him than to read his words, right? Well, we all know Rob, while ever-present in word, was much more than mere words on some blog. He was light pink and deep purple laughter, red raw anger; he was the bright yellow of the sunniest days, sometimes in song and sometimes in story, and sometimes just in being. Rob was occasionally green in fresh expression, blue in humor, and even gray and black darkness from time to time. And all that made for more than a colorful character some of us got to know. Most importantly, Rob was a human being who brought so many things to our lives in many ways. When I'm all raw-nerved and sad, it hurts like hell to think of never hearing his voice live again. Then, I stop and think of how lucky I was to have him in my life, to see he laugh and play with his son, to fall victim to his jokes, and to have felt the warmth of his hand on mine for even a second.

So, without further ado, here's the lyrics to the song that got me started down this road of self-indulgent burst of mourning. I let you figure out for yourselves how this fits.

Finally got the computer stuff fixed. Sorta.

I can't get an Internet connection to save my life (thank God for one computer in the house with such magical powers!) and I'm just a wee bit frustrated. However, the upside to this is that I'll be able to get some real writing done, I can listen to music while I write, and work on some sound editing for a friend -- the same one who got the computer happy again.

And, if I'm really desperate for something to do, I could edit a ton of photos I've neglected for oh so long.

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