Good Morning Gentle Readers,
I'm not exactly certain why this didn't post yesterday on Jim's birthday. Maybe he didn't want it too. Maybe it was like that night in the garage when Wayne spun his sordid tale of unrequited and misunderstood love gone wrong, ending with a poltergeist-like crash of the light fixture to the work bench at precisely the denouement. I don't believe in any of that stuff but his yarn gave me a spine tingle never-the-less.
Maybe if the little blond chick's creepy old man hadn't waited until he was sure the chapel was empty and then, unaware of the watchful eye of Jim's sister, furtively whispered something unintelligible into Jim's uncaring, unhearing ear, it'd be a trifle less spooky.
Our Rose, Rochelle's and Mine.
Jim was a good friend and a fellow traveler. He was godfather to my children and I've missed him since he left us some seven years ago.
I've often thought that this kind of explains his life.....
Aw shaddup you old fool.....that's just the way of it.
At one of the now-defunct 4th of July Bashes Jim snapped this picture of the House Blond.....