Friendship
About 5 or 6 years ago, when blogging was still basically unknown to so many people, the blogging community was a lot smaller than it is now. A lot of bloggers knew each other and it was so much easier to keep up with various bloggers and reading blogs. These days, my newsreader has over 1000 blog subscriptions in it, and I still don’t feel like I’m keeping up with everyone I’d like to be reading.
One of the people I met when I first started blogging was a guy from Long Beach, California, who worked for a newspaper there in the sports department. He frequently left comments on my blog and was very witty, with a sarcastic sense of humor. We quickly bonded over our love for reality television, and various movies, and our tendency to be able to throw out movie quotes to suit any situation. We became friends and have remained friends since that time.
Over the past several years, his positive attitude and enthusiasm for living never ceased to surprise me. That’s because he was born with arthrogryposis, a muscle and tendon defect, which left him in a wheelchair. He told me about a childhood spent in and out of hospitals, and numerous surgeries that left a bitter taste in his mouth for hospitals and doctors.
Despite his numerous physical disabilities, he never complained. In fact, many times I forgot that he was in a wheelchair or that he had physical limitations. I was shocked the first time he referred to himself as “Timmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay” after the character from Southpark. However, I soon learned to laugh along with him and see that he was not really making fun of himself or wanting people to pity him, but just wanted to remind people that there was much more to him than just a guy living in a wheelchair. He was a straight shooter, he told things like they were, and he never sugarcoated anything. There were times he hurt my feelings and times he totally pissed me off. Through it all, he was always my friend and always someone I could discuss important things like who had been kicked off Big Brother, who was going to win Survivor, or who was going to win America’s Next Top Model.
My friend, James, died on Thursday. He was a sports editor for the Long Beach Press-Telegram in Long Beach, California. His mother told me that he would not wake up that day, and apparently he had gone to sleep the night before, never to wake up.
A few weeks ago, James became very ill, and complained of having the flu and being unable to kick the virus. His work schedule and west coast time zone always had him up late and when I had insomnia, he was always online and we would chat about various things. A few nights ago, I asked him how he was feeling, and he commented that he was a little better, but he felt like his body had basically given up. His exact words were, “I think I am done.” I was surprised to read this statement from him, especially since he was hardly ever serious and spent most of his time joking around or poking fun at everyone else. I responded by telling him that he had too many years of meanness left inside him to share with the world. He laughed, and he responded that he felt like he had crammed quite a lot of years of meanness into his short life. That ended up being one of the last conversations we would ever have.
James always poked fun at himself and never expected sympathy or special treatment for his disability. In fact, some of his online IDs included “the gimpy pimp,” and his last AIM ID was “GimpousMaximous.” He definitely belonged in a class all by himself. Truthfully, I have never met someone with so much class and such a positive outlook. Recently, during many telephone conversations where he could always surprise me, I commented about going bike riding, and James said, “That’s really rude of you to talk about bike riding to someone in a wheelchair who can never ride a bike.”
I was speechless, and felt terrible. I sat there for a few seconds, not knowing what to say. James burst out laughing and yelled, “I gotcha!” and told me that he pulled that line on people all the time and always got the same reaction. He couldn’t stop laughing at me.
About a month ago, James told me about his grandfather being very ill, and shared with me how his grandfather had raised him, how his grandfather had taken him to Angels baseball games and how worried he was about his grandfather losing his battle with cancer. About 8 or 9 days ago, I logged on the computer and immediately received this message from James: “He’s gone.”
We chatted about his grandfather, about how much he’d miss him, and James told me about how he was trying to write his grandfather’s obituary. He was having a really hard time dealing with this loss, and even cursed his beloved Angels because they had lost the game the day James had sat with his grandfather one last time to listen to a baseball game. James was very upset that the last baseball game his grandfather ever heard was not a good one.
James was passionate about sports, and occasionally would comment on his love for being a sports writer. We did not discuss sports at length, because he would tell me how much he hated talking sports with someone who knew very little about it (which was me, I readily admit). During the Lakers series, I was very careful not to mention his precious Lakers and how they were losing to the Celtics. I had learned that valuable lesson many years ago when he bit my head off for laughing about UCLA losing a game.
As I try to reflect back on my friendship with James, and the little of his life he shared with me, I am touched by his strength, his descriptive way he had of cutting through the bullshit to get to the meat of the matter, and how he hated for anyone to spend one second feeling sorry for him or worrying about him dealing with life in a wheelchair. James even told me how he hated taking painkillers and described living with the joint pain over the years and would only take something if the pain because so unbearable that he could not think straight.
Tonight, I was channel surfing on TV, and the movie War Games was on. I remembered a time that James and I talked about this movie, and how we always watched it, whenever it was on. I felt tears in my eyes and I had to change the channel. I had to laugh, because I could almost hear James making fun of me for crying or telling me I was a big, sentimental baby. This will probably sound stupid to most people, but I’m not sure I will be able to handle the summer season of Big Brother this year. James was the person who pushed me into watching this show, and once I was addicted, we would dissect the show and the characters and try to predict the outcome.
As I read various eulogies to James online or comments people have left on the newspaper’s website, I am moved by how many lives he touched and friends he had. Everyone seemed to feel the same way I did, and knew that while James was telling you how lame you were, he still would do anything for you if you needed him and he would always be a faithful friend. Without a doubt, he was one of the smartest people I have ever known.
This is definitely a huge loss. However, I know that James would point and laugh at me if I was crying for him, as I am now as I write this post. So, I will use his words, and just say, “James, you really suck for being such a big fat loser and checking out early. How dare you be so selfish.”
Peace, my dear friend. I will miss you terribly.
June 28th, 2008 at 2:52 am
[…] Patricia Bauer wrote an interesting post today onHere’s a quick excerptDespite his numerous physical disabilities, he never complained. In fact, many times I forgot that he was in a wheelchair or that he had physical limitations. I was shocked the first time he referred to himself as “Timmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay” … […]
June 28th, 2008 at 4:41 pm
What a moving tribute to your friend James. I’m so sorry for your loss.
July 2nd, 2008 at 9:43 am
I’m sorry you lost your friend. He was a good guy and I enjoyed the little bit of interaction I had with him.
I hope you’re well.
July 2nd, 2008 at 1:48 pm
[…] Friendship …he referred to himself as “Timmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay” after the character … I could almost hear James making fun of me for crying or telling me… […]
July 2nd, 2008 at 11:36 pm
[…] Friendship About 8 or 9 days ago, I logged on the computer and immediately received this message from James: “He’s gone. […]
July 7th, 2008 at 11:45 pm
My thoughts and prayers are with you…
August 2nd, 2008 at 11:27 pm
It’s amazing