My friend and former co-worker Bob, who provided us with jerky at GooCon: Siesta Key, recently passed away of a sudden illness. He was a quirky dude, occasionally given to hostile pranks, but usually a delightful and friendly presence whenever he saw you. I don't know how much his service in Vietnam warped him, but he definitely wasn't like anyone else I knew, prone to making weird jokes and unexplained connections between ideas. And it's really none of my business, but it seems to me like if you're going to suffer a terminal illness, getting the diagnosis mere hours before dying sure saves you a lot of prolonged grief. I hope he's having a blast in the afterlife somewhere, blaring rock music and welding some giant metal sculptures. He left behind some sad people here.


One Reply to R.I.P. Bob

Scott Hardie | June 23, 2019
Correction: I had heard that he passed about 24 hours after learning the diagnosis. But I just learned that it was actually two weeks.


Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

Windbag

I don't know what Polaroids he has of whom, but somehow Tom Skilling has elevated himself to some kind of all-important weather-broadcasting god. When I grew up in Chicago, I watched him gradually get a bigger and bigger budget for his animated graphics, and gradually get a larger and larger timeframe to deliver his dull reports. By the time I left town, he had a whole 20 minutes of the hour-long midday newscast for the fucking weather, and boy did he find trivia to fill it: Average dew points across Cook County on this day in 1854, theta-e temperature predictions for every Cubs home game next season, you name it. Go »

Blood Lines

A few weeks ago, I dropped a glass bottle of salad dressing on the kitchen floor, making the house smell like vinaigrette for a day. Today, I stepped on the last errant bit of glass hiding in a crack of tile by the corner. Better my foot than the cat's paw, I guess; I don't lick between my toes. Go »

Pug Life

A friend recently contacted Kelly and me out of the blue to ask if we could take care of her dog for six days while she was on vacation, since the arranged sitter was suddenly unavailable. Neither Kelly nor I have experience taking care of dogs, and we're definitely not dog people. I was attacked by a dog when I was little and I've never been comfortable around them, especially any dog large enough to leap up from the ground and reach my face with its teeth. Go »

R.I.P. Pat

Kelly's mother passed away last week. The event had been anticipated for decades: Pat was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as a child, suffered kidney failure in 1995 and survived on her brother's donated kidney, and had five strokes and five heart attacks and countless operations, including emergency brain surgery in 2007 that changed her personality. She obviously possessed quite an inner resiliency even if she seemed petite and frail on the outside, but it was inevitable that she would someday lose the fight with her own body. Go »

Christmas 2016

After a hectic househunt and move, it was nice to have a family vacation to take a break from everything. The whole visit had already been planned back in the summer, and we had spent six months saving up plenty of money to pay for it, so all we had to do was relax and enjoy it. Kelly's father Russ and brother Andy, and Andy's boyfriend Joe flew in for a week. Go »

Day 86

The diet continues, but I haven't lost as much as I would like by now. Four pant sizes is something to be proud of, but three of them were lost in January, so you can understand my frustration. I've wound up taking a fourth meal most days, bringing me to ~1200 calories, and so far I've had a lot of trouble going back down to three. Go »