who knows where the time goes?
food for small animals
surfacing....
03 June 2007
7:49 p.m.

So.

I went missing then, didn't I? Well I promise I'll fill in the blanks, since so much amazingly wonderful stuff has happened over the past several months. Probably too much, come to think of it. My exhibit opened to stellar reviews in the New York Times and Washington Post, and it continues to make people happy � which is really all I could ever have hoped for. Jim's 2007 Anniversary Weekend was by all accounts a real success � despite not reaching the 90,000 mark. And quite frankly � if it had � it wouldn't have been very fun for anyone. 63,000 was just right.

So I want to write about all of that � and more. But one thing in the past week has overshadowed all of that in a really profound way and I'm only now able to deal with it.

See � Jim and I ran into Joe at lunch last Monday. Joe used to work at the Museum in IT. He was probably all of 19 when he started working there for a paycheck � before that he had been one of those obnoxious kid volunteers that you alternately want to pet or kill. His mom was (and still is) the President's assistant at the museum and is a true delight of a person with the voice of an angel.

And Joe could sing too. When the turret arrived at the museum back in 2002 there was no question that Joe and his mom would sing the National Anthem. And they did � to cold chills and tears from all assembled despite the fact it was about 90 degrees that day.

I spent the better part of one afternoon unhooking and wrapping computers and printers in advance of Hurricane Isabel with Joe. Spent countless lunches before this one on Monday with Joe and other folks at the museum � laughing over chips and salsa, hamburgers or spaghetti.

So Monday was like old times � seeing Joe at lunch and catching up with him on what he'd been doing in the past little while. He had sold his house and pocketed a cool 90K profit and was pretty psyched about that. He was liking his new IT job. He was really liking his new motorcycle. And he was there with his friend OJ whom he introduced to us. Quiet and powerful he seemed � did OJ, but sweet and gentle as well. The kind of guy you just knew was nice. And he'd have to be to be Joe's friend.

So that was at 12:30 last Monday afternoon.

Three hours later, Joe's motorcycle ran off the road. He died almost instantly.

Just moments later � and no one knows why, yet � OJ's bike hit the back of a truck and careened off the road about a mile away. He died shortly after.

And I've not been the same since.

older shavings :: newer litter

listening to:

fairport convention

thinking about:

pig catapults

seems like yesterday...:

homeward bound - 19 January 2010
a conversation with eliza - 20 February 2009
Home For Christmas - 24 December 2008
lately on GMT... - 11 December 2008
museums are go! - 21 October 2008

shameless self promotion:

(~ waterblogged ~)

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