This morning, my friend Skot, called with the sad news that one of our closest friends had been worn-down and defeated in his year-long battle with cancer. Bob had undergone every conceivable cancer treatment possible, including some experimental therapy at City of Hope, but his body was no longer able to fulfill its obligation. He passed away last night around midnight.
I find myself thinking a lot about the times Bob and I were able to share.
Like me, Bob was an avid rock-and-roller, music hound and collected records, and more recently was growing his CD and DVD collection. Being children of the 50’s, we found our maturity together in late 60’s high school. Our tastes in music were eerily aligned. He introduced me to Pink Floyd, Status Quo and Deep Purple. We listened to Quicksilver Messenger Service’s “Happy Trails” album continuously in the high-school library at lunch. He’s the only one of my close friends that bought a Mott the Hoople album on his own - in fact, he owned two of them. We worked at Tastee Freez together. We took the same drafting and graphic art classes. We shared creative juices. There must have been 10-15 years that Bob, Skot, Dave, Craig and I would spend 3 or 4 days camping in the Sierras - doing that annual male-bonding thing - acting like kids, singing “The Theme From Bangladesh” at the top of our lungs, playing wiffle ball at 10,000 feet, and throwing dozens of 501 Super Dupers into the frozen lakes and tarns in an attempt to catch a rainbow or brown. And this doesn’t even scratch the surface…
We must have shared some brain-DNA - we just “clicked”. Ever since we first became friends in 6th grade, our auras have been connected - even if there are a few years without making contact with each other. When Joy called us a year ago, to let us know of Bob’s condition, we reconnected and began finishing the sentences we started years earlier.
Over the last year, the group got together a number of times to reminisce.
Fortunately, two weeks ago my wife, Sherry, and I were able to spend a quiet evening with he and Joy, his loving and caring wife of 27 years. We ate KFC, talked records, and backpacking, and cars, and relived shared memories from those many years ago as if they were yesterday. We didn’t talk about the present - but cherished the past and penciled in our next get together.
That evening will close the final chapter of our shared lives - but its not over.
Do you know that feeling you get, when you hear a certain song on the radio, and you think back to a specific time and place, and who was there, and what you were doing, what you were smelling, and how you were feeling?
Well, I plan on listening to my Quicksilver, Mothers of Invention, Spooky Tooth, and Wishbone Ash albums, and remembering; and smiling.
Hope you are tuned into the same frequency, Bob, and be sure to let me know if you have any requests. The turntable is always ready.
How many of you out there had a favorite radio station you listened to as a kid? Remember how closely you identified with them? You probably also remember that the stations would release record albums in the local market as give-aways or promotional items. 
