Bob ... the original
Bob was a friend of mine.
He knew my name.
Every time I saw him he would raise his arms and bade me over to him no matter where we were or who we were with.
Every convention or gathering we were at, there he was with a drink in one hand and a cigarrette in the other.
As time went by the drink became water, the cigarette went from a cigar, back to a cigarette, then to pencil.
He waned on that hand held bit that smoked, sometimes it smoked itself.
When I got married he frowned at me. It was the first time he ever frowned at me, and the last. He could see that I was happy finally. He agreed with me that I went through a lot of ass holes before I found ... the one. They became friends.
I have watched as each of my convention going gang slowly drop off and join the rest of the crew upstairs.
We all joked that the first person we wanted to sit and talk to when we got to the big convention in the sky was Jorge. (Jorge Luis Borges ... google him) None of us ever thought we would kick the bucket, we were young, we were going to live forever.
Bob said so....
Robert Asprin
Tambu - An Interstellar Genghis Khan
(1946-2008)
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