missing a friend

You are missed, kid.

One More Thing 'Bout That

Make a Smilebox photobook

melding

On this Eve of my departure for my second-ever Dragon*Con, I have spent the last few hours putting together packages of memories. Yes, tomorrow, I leave to attend an incredible conglomeration of science, fantasy, and science fiction, from films to comic books to works of fiction throughout the years. This time, I will again attend with my best friend's teenaged children, as I did last year when we all had our virgin encounter with this wondrous beast. We will attend in memory of our guide, Sam "Blaxstone" Johnson, aka the Fickle Fat Fudge Fiend. His enthusiasm and love of the show fueled our own, encouraging us to participate in the story tale unfolding before us.
Some few weeks ago, I had received the tribute dvd, shown above, created by Sam's niece. I finally found a program which allowed me to make duplicate dvds, sans the fancy cd label, and have created six for Sam's friends scattered around the world. Literally. Although most will go to homes in the States, one will travel to Australia, to a woman for whom Sam almost forsook us. It occurred to me that the timing was perfect. As I am venturing off to create new memories, I am sharing old memories with friends far and near. My planets of my irregular galaxy must be aligning...

Nice cake, redux

For three Sundays in a row, I have been in the presence of cake. Not just any cake, either. Can you guess? But of course, you already know what type of cake it is, else there would be no reason for this post. Pineapple upside-down cake. Say what? I haven't had so much of this one type of cake in my life EVER.
It all began in the wee hours of Sunday, April 19th. Steed's was closing and Sam had fetched from the cooler the leftovers set aside from the earlier cookout. Said leftovers included a right fair hunk of cake, pineapple upside-down cake. This cake was a high-rise affair, with pineapple slices and brown sugar glaze. Oh, yeah! Nice cake! None for me, though; it was Sam's fortune cookie reward.
The following Sunday, April 26th, I'm over in Beaufort, SC. Daddy had died around 5 AM and I had told Bonnie, his wife of 31 years, that I would be over in the afternoon to help with the obituary. All well and good: this death had been foretold in November and I had made the most of spending time with him and preparing for goodbye in the ensuing months. So, off I go to Beaufort, ending up at Bonnie's mom's house, where a feast is waiting to assuage our grief. What a feast indeed! Shrimp in gravy, fresh green beans with new potatoes, lovely collard greens, fried shrimp, all scrumptious. And for dessert? Pineapple upside-down cake, this one a much lower version, made with crushed pineapple instead of slices. Of course, I had a piece of this one, regaling all with the story of my dear friend's fortune cookie and cake.
Now, here it is Sunday again, though it's a May Sunday. It's a special Sunday at the church, the last sermon to be held in the sanctuary until the renovations have been completed. As it's been a while since I've darkened its doors, I decide to attend. Plus, it's First Sunday of the month, meaning there will be much food afterward and socializing. I arrive almost an hour late, but I still catch all of the sermon and still found a seat with friends. Good times. Then we're all in line for the buffet lavishly spread out for us: fried chicken, cold cuts for sandwiches, macaroni and cheese, cheese broccoli casserole, tabouli, and much, much more.
And on the dessert table? Chocolate cake, chocolate brownies, blondies, chocolate cookies, pound cake, pie, and.. wait for it! ... pineapple upside-down cake. Of course, I had a generous slice. How could I not? Each three-inch-high piece had a glorious half-slice of pineapple, with a maraschino cherry nestled in the hollow. Quite pretty, quite sweet, bringing me happy thoughts of happy times. Nice cake.

18 years

18 years. That's the time it takes to raise a child from infancy and send them out on their own into the big blue yonder. That's how long Sam Johnson was in my life. We met in 1991, with him being part, if not the ringleader, of the Underground Savannah posse that included my soon-to-be husband, Jeff. They, and Bobby Ruggiero and Andy Pena, had a friendship that was a brotherhood. It was tight. Even when they disagreed with something one of them did or said, it just didn't matter. They were a team, with an irreverent television show, the radio world, the Savannah nightlife and culture. I could tell these guys were in it for the duration, no one was getting out alive, I tell ya!

And so, now one of them has gotten out of this band of brothers from other mothers. Sam's big ol' heart, after enduring five years of dialysis, just gave out on him on Sunday. He'd had a great weekend, including zany fortune cookie messages. That's right, plural. His original fortune cookie told him: A nice cake is waiting for you. Of course, he led into the reading of it the usual way, slowly releasing the message, looking it over and announcing "Boom goes the dynamite!" "Yeah, right, what does it really say?" And with a puzzled look, he says "A nice cake is waiting for you." I laughed my self silly, even reading it myself and then laughing more. Whoever heard of such a thing??? He was so taken aback by the seemingly non-fortune that he requested a new cookie... and was graciously granted one after he told his tale. This second cookie told him "You have infinite wisdom and power." "Hey, man, that makes you a superhero!" That made him feel right as rain. I dropped him off at Steed's, then went home for the night.

Saturday, after almost seven hours in Beaufort with my terminally-ill daddy and his family, I came back to town and caught a nap before heading off to a retirement party for a colleague. Then, off I went to Steed's for some karaoke. Sam had called to say he took a cab there, but I had told him I would make sure he got home so he could hold on to his money. I had gone there that night intending to sing, but I just never did. I even had a list of songs in my car that I had planned to do.. but I didn't. I just absorbed the show. There was a birthday party going on for a husband of the Cumulus crowd, and they were a lively bunch. There were several of the regular Saturday night singers. Even Bob and his mom, also known to Sam as "Mom", were there for a rare visit from Midway. And Sam was on top of his game, handling all with his usual mix of aplomb and bravado. I totally enjoyed myself, even though I was just part of the audience this time around. I even snapped a fairly decent photograph (on my cellphone) of Sam with Bob and Mom when they were leaving. Apropos of absolutely nothing, I took the picture. I remember thinking, who knows when they'll all see each other again?

Finally, the end of the shift has arrived. Last call for alcohol, for songs, for hanging out at Steed's. Gina is about to fall over, her feet hurt so badly. She reminds Sam she had set aside a plate for him from the cookout earlier. She even saved him some cake. Pineapple upside-down cake. One of his favorites, one he had been thinking about lately. Nice cake. Using his phone, I took a shot of him with his "Nice cake", us grinning like fools about the in-joke. I even said to him, on the ride to his place in Garden City, that he should play those numbers on the back of that fortune. After all, how many fortune cookie messages are found to be true?? Yeah, that would be cool. So, at 2:30am, I drop him off at his place, with our "Love ya, girl" "Love you too, Sam" hanging in the air. I stay a moment, making sure he gets inside safely before I take my tired self home. And that was the last I saw of him. He tried at some point to forward the "Nice cake" picture from his cell to mine, but it didn't take. I figured I would have him resend it the next time we talked.

And now, he's to be buried on Saturday. 42 years old, gone already. So many future plans, all on hold now. He was very much looking forward to a family reunion in Orlando in December. He was even going to do the odious task of going through the big box of family photos his sister had and putting them in albums for the reunion. He was going to Dragon*Con again with myself and the Delongs. He was going to go through his blogs for the past five years and publish a book of the best of them, at the urging of his college professor, Dr. H. He was going to finish his paralegal degree from South University. He was going to do all these time-consuming projects and more... but time stopped for him.

I still don't believe he's really gone. I guess I'll have to accept it at Steed's when his hand isn't on the microphone, his voice isn't ringing through the speakers, his presence isn't all over the room.