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Tell Them Boss Sent You
I was looking back through some of my emails with Boss Mongo. A couple years ago, we once again nearly had the chance to get together for a bourbon or three. But then he had some problems with his house, and he was having some health problems, and he had to cancel. This was part of his email, explaining that he couldn’t make it:
We’ve had a couple medical issues (serious stuff, not imaginary), we’ve had some housing issues (getting evicted after H. Irma so my landlord could his hands on some of that sweet, sweet FEMA money. But, still. I’m amazed at how much effort it takes to get through the day, when I thought I’d get to downshift into “cruise” at this point. Still, absotively posolutely I would leap at the chance to sit down and have a dynamic conversation with you and your pops.
Just saying: I am not currently a man of leisure. But someday I will be. Yes I will.
I responded that I was sorry to hear of his health problems. He responded:
They picayune, niggling difficulties. More’n a couple times I should’ve been Dead Right There. So every day is a good day. As I’ve told my kids when they’re amazed that I don’t go into Hulk mode over this kind of stuff: Hey, I’m not even on borrowed time, I’m on gifted time.
We tried several other times to get together, but one of us was always busy. And then, Boss dies a few days ago at the age of 54.
I should’ve just gotten into my damn car and driven all the damn way to the Keys to his damn house and had a damn bourbon with the guy. I should’ve made time. Just showed up on his doorstep.
But I didn’t.
I figured that at some point, we would both be men of leisure. Yes, we would.
Or maybe not.
Boss was 54 years old. His gifted time ended unexpectedly. You just never know, I suppose…
If there’s someone you’d like to go see, perhaps you should go see them.
Tell them Boss sent you.
Published in General
You’re making me at least think about it. But, going out in the world? It’s peoply out there.
I don’t like this. Exposes my guilt. “someday…”
Or, if there is someone who really wants to see you, consider taking some time to visit with them and let them.
Doc, you’re so right.
Mourning and kicking myself right along with you.
You didn’t have the experience but you had a conversation.
Rule 1: if you have something to say to someone, do it now.
Dang..he was young. Well, I agree with you–go do it! Don’t wait for a “good” time. Don’t think you’ll be an inconvenience. Just go see your friends and visit your relatives and eat the ice cream!
Dr. Bastiat,
You’re gonna regret those words when a bunch of Ricochetti ring your doorbell. Someday, one of them will be me.
Tim
In an earlier age, people could become friends with an exchange of letters. Having a pen pal in a faraway place was exotic.
My grandchildren, with access to layers of social media and immediate contact with their friends, never seem to feel that such communications are so special and unique that care and thought should go into them and that style matters. Communication is free and valued less than when some effort (and postage) was required.
Ricochet is not an exchange of tweets or snapchats or similar forms of communications barely a notch above grunts but far more thoughtful, often personal content. There is some elegance here every day. We get to see something more of each other and, for me anyway, some Ricochetti are fixed stars. It is oddly comforting just to read their thoughts and reactions to mine. It was a shock to lose Boss Mongo, as if Ricochet were a world apart and not supposed to suffer that kind of change.
Aside: Here is a wickedly funny but crude take on the decline of writing skills from the late Greg Geraldo.
If I do that sort of thing, I always hold up a nice bottle of wine where the doorbell cam can read the label.
I think most of these guys drink something a bit more alcoholic. Which I am absolutely okay with!
Mrs. Tim and I, along with another couple, have been doing ZOOM wine and cheese tastings for over a year. They’re put on by Commander’s Palace, one of the best restaurants in a city know for good food (and high crime, bad streets, etc. But that’s another post). I don’t know much about wine, but I do know where to find the alcohol by volume number. The higher, the better in my book.
I am willing to allow any mood-altering beverage to be used. Good coffee opens doors.
I look forward to meeting you Tim!
You spend your adult life toiling away, saving, persevering, planning for a time of leisure spent indulging in a modest list of trips, visits, activities and avocations but then, duty. Health, of yourself or a loved one, tilts; an aging parent arrives in need of care; a sibling or child needs help. Responsibility trumps leisure. You steel yourself and do what you must. Next thing you know, time, money and energy are short. But that’s OK. In fact, it’s noble. Boss understands.
Just popping in to say hi, and thanks for sharing this.
You always think you have time, and you don’t.
So beautifully put. Thank you, Dr Bastiat.
I have an email in the front of my mind I was about to send him. It was about some advice he gave me that turned out to not be needed. He would have been delighted to know the crisis whose eruption I feared never came to pass.
But of course, I got busy with life, and now that email won’t get sent.
He was indeed living on borrowed/gifted time.
His death is such a shock, but the alternative, that he would have hung out in some hospital bed all tubed up and dying slowly just wouldn’t have been very Boss Mongo.
RIP, Boss.
And thanks for the excellent advice, Doctor.
I am just back from a coast to coast visit with a former brother in arms. Priceless! The flights were reasonably priced, but there were no empty seats. That won’t last much longer.
Life is full of “coulda woulda shouldas” that hit you with a painful blow to your entire being when someone you care for dies, especially when words are left unsaid. We are all here only temporarily, but it’s so so easy to take it for granted.
The Giant Who Wanted Company, one of my favorite children’s books, comes to mind. :-)
I didn’t realize Boss was so young. I can’t help thinking his military life took a toll on his health. My mom said once, after the annual local Memorial Day parade, that the World War II vets didn’t look as healthy as her friends at church did who were the same age. She said that she thought that the sacrifices were lifelong, that the war had exacted a terrible price even on those who came home alive.
I think we don’t understand this stress very well. We really need to gain this understanding. They are the best of us.
Most of us don’t bite…
But I do.
Lately.
Much.
Me too. I’ve had it with my “betters” telling me to “follow the science,” only to find out, on asking, that they aren’t really sure how to SPELL science. I studied more science in my first year of college than they did in their entire lives. I dun gradieated from thet therr koolege with a real science degree, and I’ve never stopped studying.
Now I’d better get off my high Equus ferus, before I chew off all three of their disgusting gluteals.
Worth remembering, around 17 veterans a day take their own lives, over 6000 a year.