If someone said to me, "You look like you just lost your friend," I'd say you're right. I wear it on my face. While I don't like to rate things, especially friends, by comparison, (good, better, best) I did have a very long friendship with my late friend KO who died last Saturday. 60+ years is an accomplishment for loyal friendship. So, when it ends, there is a hole that goes unfilled.
Like all human relationships, there were ups and downs. Not living in the same place since 1970 also threw in a few challenges. Yet we prevailed. It helps when a friendship this long features both participants having the same birthday. We exchanged many fine gifts over the years. I have books and records and a few other things that will keep KO in my life for the duration. A note on sharing the same birthday with a friend: it's important not to get so caught up in your own birthday that you forget about the one you share it with. That's a pitfall that one must be aware of at all times.
We met at 9 years of age during Little League tryouts. I remember comparing our baseball gloves. Which brand, what signature, the size and condition. In full disclosure, I never missed an opportunity to show off my Willie Mays glove.
Through Jr. High and High School we matured, dated two sisters at one point and survived our adolescence, the Jr. Prom, the Kennedy Assassination and the untimely death of his daughter at age 1. Ken was an artist and read widely so he was a fountain of knowledge and introduced me to all manner of artists in fine art, music, sculpture, and theater. He frequented museums. When I lived in the Bay Area, his trips to visit me always included time spent at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.
KO introduced me to art and culture and that transformed my life. I will always recall driving through Laurel Canyon in a VW bug on our way to see some blues or jazz great in the LA clubs of the 60s. We saw them all. Lightnin" Hopkins, Howlin" Wolf, Son House, Taj Mahal, et.al. KO was quiet, introverted, sort of a contrarian, and could be difficult to get along with. I recall one fishing trip where he couldn't remember his Social Security Number so couldn't get an out of state license in Oregon. Another time, when fully licensed, he announced that he wasn't going to do any fishing but rather sit outside and watch me fish. Not my idea of a fishing trip, but then it was nice to have a traveling companion. Another notable example of his contrary nature was his choice of dress for our Jr. Prom. Our class colors were powder blue and black, thus all the guys wore powder blue tuxedo jackets. Not Kenny. He showed up wearing an orange (coral colored) jacket. He claimed the rental shop was out of powder blue by the time he decided to rent one, but I knew better.
In recent years we stopped exchanging holiday gifts in favor of charitable contributions to organizations that were important to us. I've lost a few friends and former colleagues these last few years. It certainly makes for introspection. I love the metaphor of fingering the jagged grain of wood (Thanks Ralph Ellison) and I find myself doing just that lately. New insights emerge, names and places fade a bit more each year, but some of the memories remain vivid.
Comments