A year ago, about this time, I got a phone message from my old buddy, Lee Bowman. "Hey, Mott! (his private name for me---taken from the family info that I had, as a child, carved or written "MOTT" into everything I could around the house. Some kind of dyslexic/"Killjoy was here" take on my name----anyway) What's goin' on? Just checkin' in", he said. "Give me a call some time."
Not much else is needed when it's a call from a friend of almost 40 years. Things are accepted or understood with that long of a friendship that don't need explaining. No--- "this is what I mean by that" is needed. Nor is any immediate return call required. No feelings are hurt or frustration involved if I did just that---call back "some time." Over the past 20 years or so, since our friendship had become more one of phone conversations rather than direct contact, there was always that or a similar phone message intro "Hey! What the hell is goin' on!" to which my response was usually "Tales to tell, buddy, tales to tell." And we would "have a talk" going over a bit of everything past and/or present with more and more emphasis, lately, on "Oh man, do you remember when we.................." Yup-----I remember................
Before that time, my brother Dave, Lee's best friend/pal/compadre/whatever-----"Pancho" to "Cisco"/"Cisco" to "Pancho"-----had repeatedly made the statement that he was worried about Lee. He was "circling the drain". An ugly term. I had heard that used in some ER/hospital TV drama and didn't like it, but I got Dave's concern. My response was that we ALL were "on our way down" in one way or another and that there certainly was no way that anything could be done "about" Lee. Lee was Lee. (Or, as put in one of his favorite movies, "The Deer Hunter"----"This is THIS! This isn't anything else----THIS IS THIS!") Lee would eat Big Mac's and fries, have a shot of whiskey to start his day, smoke a cigar to finish it off, go on and on to me about the big ole steak he was gonna BBQ or the bottle of red he needed to "crack." He had always been that way and there was no way of preventing him. Older, heavier, and mixed in with diabetes and injured ankles or knees it all created a much slowed down lifestyle. No matter what, though, Lee was always gonna do things his way.
And so it was, that when Dave called me on May 4th of last year and said, "Lee's dead", I was really not so much surprised as .....saddened. "I just got a message from him last week!", I said. As if that was gonna change anything. So. There it was. In the moments after and repeatedly ever since, I have thought and said that at some point in our lives we start losing friends that simply cannot be replaced. In fact, it is simply a matter of years spent as friends, that we CANNOT replace a friend of 35+ years. Meet some unique individual NOW that you can build a lasting friendship with and they will have to live to 92plus---right along with you ---to reach the "35 years" mark. And there is simply no way possible to experience all of the "learnin' it" times together that naturally comes along with 2 people who have known each other since their early 20's on---and especially through all the changes of the past 40 years---1969 to 2009.
And besides all of that---there will simply not be another Lee.
I first met Lee through my brother Dave back in Dearborn, Michigan. My understanding was that they were pals from their Post Office work together and other "connections"-----baseball, hockey, motorcycles, "brown liquor" and assorted other competitive sports such as horseshoes, pool, bocci ball, bullshitting and, that time honored tradition of plain old stubborn arguing. Detroit friendships involved a certain amount of verbal harassment. To those uninitiated, it can best be witnessed in the recent Clint Eastwood movie "Gran Torino." Clint's got it right with his character and his pal the barber. That---- "Are you still overpricing me for these haircuts, you spic sonofabitch?" "The price hasn't changed in 20 YEARS, yuh dumb cheap polack!" "I'll see ya next week, ya basterd!" way of camaraderie was Dave and Lee's way.
I do recall going with Dave, Lee and the "usual suspects" to a number of Tiger baseball games at Tiger Stadium---a few blocks from Dave's house near downtown Detroit. These were always great times. Lots of laughs and general fun. Bleacher seats with local madmen like Dirty Dinky (some smelly old bum who had the weird habit of autographing your program when you went on a beer run or to the "head"---Yur pal, DIRTY DINKY) Sitting in the outfield bleachers, lubricated by a few beers, sitting back and listening to the endless shouted harassment of the opposing teams players by Dave and Lee were perfect ways to spend a day at the park. "You can't catch, you jerk!"etc etc...................but all mixed in with a lot of laughs and amusement.
Soon after those days, Dave and I moved to the southern California beach town Hermosa Beach. Dave did his best to talk up the whole "good vibes" of the area to Lee, so that when we went back to Detroit for sister Jeanne's wedding, it was decided that I would drive back with Lee---via New Orleans---in his much loved blue Bronco. We were towing some patched together goofball trailer with his Moto Guzzi motorcycle strapped on. Thus began the lifelong and assorted "vehicle experience" with Lee. The hitch "tongue" on this trailer had a crack in it that we kept trying to get repaired but Lee assured me that there was "NO problem." A "road trip" is one of the best ways possible to establish whether a friendship would "work" or not You get to adjust to each others rhythms and roll along with their idiosyncrasies and match up your tastes in music, scenery, food to stop for and jokes to tell. Stories are created and lived together. We did an all night "blast" down from Detroit to the "Big Easy" with all kinds of tales and lies, laughs and moods, stimulants and snacks and lots of great music. I remember rolling along down through Mississippi as the sun started sneaking up over the pines with the Allman Brother's "Blue Sky" coming up on the tape player. Lee said, "That's good stuff---turn it up." I obliged and got it up just right------"Good ole Sunday mornin', bells are ringin' everywhere. Goin' to Carolina, won't be long till I'll be there"..............yeahyeah.........
We had Lee's little black Cockapoo pup "Gretchen" along with us sitting up behind us on top of a pile of Lee's stuff. We rolled into New Orleans and she got to go for a "walk" with us down Bourbon Street up on Lee's shoulders or wrapped around his neck. It was Mardi Gras and we had ourselves a good time wandering around catching the sites. Lee walking down the middle of Bourbon Street with that cute little puppy on his shoulders---bouncing along on the balls of his feet--a big "Burt Reynolds" grin on his face and all the girls coming up goin' "Oh, what a cute doggie" OH yeah. CUTE puppy. An irresistible combo those two. On our last night in town, we decided we needed to regroup in some motel before heading out west the next day with brother Dave and his girl Linda in their van. Everything was booked and after the 2nd or 3rd try we found some "no tell motel" that said they would rent us a room that was being renovated for half price if we didn't mind the repairs, etc. "Perfect", Lee said. We headed up to the room with little Gretchen" trying to poke her head out of Lee's shoulder bag. All motels were "NO PETS ALLOWED" but, as usual, to Lee there was the invisible words under that which said "Except Lee Bowman". I was soon to find that those invisible words would appear on the bottom of "One Way" signs, "Do Not Enter" signs , and all kinds of others for the rest of my times with Lee. Rules? There were no rules. ("Badges? We don't have any badges. We don't need any stinking BADGES!!")
We collapsed exhausted and woke up in the morning to find that little Gretchen had gotten bored (or maybe frightened by our snoring) and tore and shredded a 4 ft wide hole in the carpet! We snuck out of there and were OFF!
Life with Lee was always entertaining but sometimes a little MORE so than I would have preferred. Out on the open road heading west through Louisiana, Lee asked me to find a packet of carrot cake that someone had given him ---tucked somewhere in the pile in the back seat. As I started looking, it was apparent Gretchen also was interested. Things were getting a bit confusing with me trying to look while Gretchen dug away, so Lee decided that he had to get involved----while driving, of course. He kept turning around and we were both doing our best when we heard the loudest "BRRAAAAAAAAAMP!" and looked up to see ---GRILL! Just the tubing and the oval "Mack" symbol of a semi truck grill! Lee wrenched the wheel to the right and spun us off of the shoulder and into the soft gravel on the edge, trailer, motorcycle and all. If we hadn't hit the gravel---which dragged on the trailer and slowed us down---we probably would have flipped the whole damn rig. Eyes the size of golf balls, I believe is the term.......
That whole trip provided story after story enjoyed together. We ended up heading down to the southwest corner of Texas---at night---driving down into the Big Bend National Park to camp. Driving along in the dark, we thought we noticed something moving off to the right of us. I shown the spotlight Lee had on the Bronco over to our right and was amazed to find that we were being "paced" by a huge herd of javelins running along parallel to use through the night. We finally parked in the wild wind and pitch black night and tried to stake down a tent in the hard rock. Dave and Linda were safe in their van but our tent was flapping around and blowing all over the place. We finally secured 2 or 3 stakes up front and left the remainder to blow about us inside. Somewhere during the night, I woke up to take a piss and went downwind from us a few feet to use what minimal wind block the tent provided and to prevent "hosing" myself down. I tried to secure a few more stakes but gave it up again. When I got in the tent, Lee grumbled, "Next time piss a little further away from the tent. I could hear you like you were right next to us" After a rough night, we got up in the morning to the most magnificent view and realized that the hard rock we were trying to stake into was the top of a cliff that fell off about 10 more feet BEYOND where I had been that night relieving myself! "You wanted me to go where?" I soon learned that there was my way and then there was Lee's way-----and maybe it might be best to consider the source before going along his way.
And so it went---- on and on.............to Southern California-----tomorrow...................
Not much else is needed when it's a call from a friend of almost 40 years. Things are accepted or understood with that long of a friendship that don't need explaining. No--- "this is what I mean by that" is needed. Nor is any immediate return call required. No feelings are hurt or frustration involved if I did just that---call back "some time." Over the past 20 years or so, since our friendship had become more one of phone conversations rather than direct contact, there was always that or a similar phone message intro "Hey! What the hell is goin' on!" to which my response was usually "Tales to tell, buddy, tales to tell." And we would "have a talk" going over a bit of everything past and/or present with more and more emphasis, lately, on "Oh man, do you remember when we.................." Yup-----I remember................
Before that time, my brother Dave, Lee's best friend/pal/compadre/whatever-----"Pancho" to "Cisco"/"Cisco" to "Pancho"-----had repeatedly made the statement that he was worried about Lee. He was "circling the drain". An ugly term. I had heard that used in some ER/hospital TV drama and didn't like it, but I got Dave's concern. My response was that we ALL were "on our way down" in one way or another and that there certainly was no way that anything could be done "about" Lee. Lee was Lee. (Or, as put in one of his favorite movies, "The Deer Hunter"----"This is THIS! This isn't anything else----THIS IS THIS!") Lee would eat Big Mac's and fries, have a shot of whiskey to start his day, smoke a cigar to finish it off, go on and on to me about the big ole steak he was gonna BBQ or the bottle of red he needed to "crack." He had always been that way and there was no way of preventing him. Older, heavier, and mixed in with diabetes and injured ankles or knees it all created a much slowed down lifestyle. No matter what, though, Lee was always gonna do things his way.
And so it was, that when Dave called me on May 4th of last year and said, "Lee's dead", I was really not so much surprised as .....saddened. "I just got a message from him last week!", I said. As if that was gonna change anything. So. There it was. In the moments after and repeatedly ever since, I have thought and said that at some point in our lives we start losing friends that simply cannot be replaced. In fact, it is simply a matter of years spent as friends, that we CANNOT replace a friend of 35+ years. Meet some unique individual NOW that you can build a lasting friendship with and they will have to live to 92plus---right along with you ---to reach the "35 years" mark. And there is simply no way possible to experience all of the "learnin' it" times together that naturally comes along with 2 people who have known each other since their early 20's on---and especially through all the changes of the past 40 years---1969 to 2009.
And besides all of that---there will simply not be another Lee.
I first met Lee through my brother Dave back in Dearborn, Michigan. My understanding was that they were pals from their Post Office work together and other "connections"-----baseball, hockey, motorcycles, "brown liquor" and assorted other competitive sports such as horseshoes, pool, bocci ball, bullshitting and, that time honored tradition of plain old stubborn arguing. Detroit friendships involved a certain amount of verbal harassment. To those uninitiated, it can best be witnessed in the recent Clint Eastwood movie "Gran Torino." Clint's got it right with his character and his pal the barber. That---- "Are you still overpricing me for these haircuts, you spic sonofabitch?" "The price hasn't changed in 20 YEARS, yuh dumb cheap polack!" "I'll see ya next week, ya basterd!" way of camaraderie was Dave and Lee's way.
I do recall going with Dave, Lee and the "usual suspects" to a number of Tiger baseball games at Tiger Stadium---a few blocks from Dave's house near downtown Detroit. These were always great times. Lots of laughs and general fun. Bleacher seats with local madmen like Dirty Dinky (some smelly old bum who had the weird habit of autographing your program when you went on a beer run or to the "head"---Yur pal, DIRTY DINKY) Sitting in the outfield bleachers, lubricated by a few beers, sitting back and listening to the endless shouted harassment of the opposing teams players by Dave and Lee were perfect ways to spend a day at the park. "You can't catch, you jerk!"etc etc...................but all mixed in with a lot of laughs and amusement.
Soon after those days, Dave and I moved to the southern California beach town Hermosa Beach. Dave did his best to talk up the whole "good vibes" of the area to Lee, so that when we went back to Detroit for sister Jeanne's wedding, it was decided that I would drive back with Lee---via New Orleans---in his much loved blue Bronco. We were towing some patched together goofball trailer with his Moto Guzzi motorcycle strapped on. Thus began the lifelong and assorted "vehicle experience" with Lee. The hitch "tongue" on this trailer had a crack in it that we kept trying to get repaired but Lee assured me that there was "NO problem." A "road trip" is one of the best ways possible to establish whether a friendship would "work" or not You get to adjust to each others rhythms and roll along with their idiosyncrasies and match up your tastes in music, scenery, food to stop for and jokes to tell. Stories are created and lived together. We did an all night "blast" down from Detroit to the "Big Easy" with all kinds of tales and lies, laughs and moods, stimulants and snacks and lots of great music. I remember rolling along down through Mississippi as the sun started sneaking up over the pines with the Allman Brother's "Blue Sky" coming up on the tape player. Lee said, "That's good stuff---turn it up." I obliged and got it up just right------"Good ole Sunday mornin', bells are ringin' everywhere. Goin' to Carolina, won't be long till I'll be there"..............yeahyeah.........
We had Lee's little black Cockapoo pup "Gretchen" along with us sitting up behind us on top of a pile of Lee's stuff. We rolled into New Orleans and she got to go for a "walk" with us down Bourbon Street up on Lee's shoulders or wrapped around his neck. It was Mardi Gras and we had ourselves a good time wandering around catching the sites. Lee walking down the middle of Bourbon Street with that cute little puppy on his shoulders---bouncing along on the balls of his feet--a big "Burt Reynolds" grin on his face and all the girls coming up goin' "Oh, what a cute doggie" OH yeah. CUTE puppy. An irresistible combo those two. On our last night in town, we decided we needed to regroup in some motel before heading out west the next day with brother Dave and his girl Linda in their van. Everything was booked and after the 2nd or 3rd try we found some "no tell motel" that said they would rent us a room that was being renovated for half price if we didn't mind the repairs, etc. "Perfect", Lee said. We headed up to the room with little Gretchen" trying to poke her head out of Lee's shoulder bag. All motels were "NO PETS ALLOWED" but, as usual, to Lee there was the invisible words under that which said "Except Lee Bowman". I was soon to find that those invisible words would appear on the bottom of "One Way" signs, "Do Not Enter" signs , and all kinds of others for the rest of my times with Lee. Rules? There were no rules. ("Badges? We don't have any badges. We don't need any stinking BADGES!!")
We collapsed exhausted and woke up in the morning to find that little Gretchen had gotten bored (or maybe frightened by our snoring) and tore and shredded a 4 ft wide hole in the carpet! We snuck out of there and were OFF!
Life with Lee was always entertaining but sometimes a little MORE so than I would have preferred. Out on the open road heading west through Louisiana, Lee asked me to find a packet of carrot cake that someone had given him ---tucked somewhere in the pile in the back seat. As I started looking, it was apparent Gretchen also was interested. Things were getting a bit confusing with me trying to look while Gretchen dug away, so Lee decided that he had to get involved----while driving, of course. He kept turning around and we were both doing our best when we heard the loudest "BRRAAAAAAAAAMP!" and looked up to see ---GRILL! Just the tubing and the oval "Mack" symbol of a semi truck grill! Lee wrenched the wheel to the right and spun us off of the shoulder and into the soft gravel on the edge, trailer, motorcycle and all. If we hadn't hit the gravel---which dragged on the trailer and slowed us down---we probably would have flipped the whole damn rig. Eyes the size of golf balls, I believe is the term.......
That whole trip provided story after story enjoyed together. We ended up heading down to the southwest corner of Texas---at night---driving down into the Big Bend National Park to camp. Driving along in the dark, we thought we noticed something moving off to the right of us. I shown the spotlight Lee had on the Bronco over to our right and was amazed to find that we were being "paced" by a huge herd of javelins running along parallel to use through the night. We finally parked in the wild wind and pitch black night and tried to stake down a tent in the hard rock. Dave and Linda were safe in their van but our tent was flapping around and blowing all over the place. We finally secured 2 or 3 stakes up front and left the remainder to blow about us inside. Somewhere during the night, I woke up to take a piss and went downwind from us a few feet to use what minimal wind block the tent provided and to prevent "hosing" myself down. I tried to secure a few more stakes but gave it up again. When I got in the tent, Lee grumbled, "Next time piss a little further away from the tent. I could hear you like you were right next to us" After a rough night, we got up in the morning to the most magnificent view and realized that the hard rock we were trying to stake into was the top of a cliff that fell off about 10 more feet BEYOND where I had been that night relieving myself! "You wanted me to go where?" I soon learned that there was my way and then there was Lee's way-----and maybe it might be best to consider the source before going along his way.
And so it went---- on and on.............to Southern California-----tomorrow...................
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