Cafe Hitch-hike

2021-10-06

The fourth quarter

I felt those touches of denial when I saw my friend Vlad's post about our mutual friend the Steampunk King. They had been friends since middle school (early 80s) and after hearing V's many memories of the King, I finally got to meet him and got to see what held that friendship for so long. King and I then kept in touch, and he visited me about 3 years ago where he spent a week here. We were never romantic, but there was plenty of companionship and just enough of that kind of friction there. Anyhow, Vlad had pictures and started the post, "I'm heartbroken that my friend of 41 years had passed away," and I instantly thought, "no, Vlad had another friend named King, it's not the same guy."

Nope, it was. King had traces of both Asian and Native American roots, and I couldn't deny it when I saw the pics (and same features) from when he was younger. He was found in his bedroom after he didn't show up for work. They don't know how he died, and he was 52 years old and perfectly healthy. People made many remarks about having plans with him in the days and weeks to come. It was all very unexpected indeed. I was choked up and sent Vlad my sympathies.

I met The Golf Pro when I first moved to this region because he was with a group of people I knew from a local watering hole. He moved away about 9 years ago and moved back to the area. He has aged considerably (thank you, cancer) and had many changes in his life and fortunes since then. He bought a house in the neighborhood where he had been living when we met, and he was surprised at all the change that took place in it. Nearly all of his old neighbors had either died or moved away. He made the remark about going to the local stores and noticing the heavy Caribbean immigrant presence there, and I nodded. I sense a wistfulness in his otherwise upbeat voice. I guess he hoped he would be able to 'go back home again' because he liked it here.

I remembered that time well. Our neighborhood was a pretty happening place and it helped me grow into the region. Life was pretty good at that time, and I could see why he wanted to come back. It just reminded me of how much life really can't be crystallized and remain in a suspended state in amber.

A couple of days after meeting the friend who moved back to the area, Mark from Trinidad and I had some drinks. We wanted to go to a new place, but it was full and with a waiting list. We decided to go to another new place just to check it out. It was a very hastily arranged restaurant although it was owned by one of the bigger hot-shot restauranteurs in our region. The dining area was way too brightly light. The service was so-so; our bartender didn't know how to make the drinks on the menu so someone more experienced saved her (oh, but she was quite charming and lovely otherwise).

What got my attention was Mark and I were the youngest people (other than the staff) in the place. A DJ played disco hits and spun next to a strobe light, and elderly people who were rather well-dressed swayed to the music. They wore capri pants, mule heels, and some had animal pattern or bright shirts. The men had plenty of gold jewelry to boot. I saw some couples do a lively dance. While I listed to 'Funkytown,' it made me think of the Studio 57 days and I thought, 'holy shit, I bet some of these people danced at Studio 57!' Then, I asked for my second drink (they sold 3-for-1 drinks).

I know I've written on these damn pages over and over about the passing of time. What the hell, my buddy Carlo the German is now 71 and with end-stage cancer, and 22 years ago we were staggering around the streets of Central London. During our conversation, I noticed The Golf Pro had memory lapses and a slower gait. Most of my nieces are having children of their own, and my rambunctious mother now looks like a little old lady. Hanging out in that elder discotheque definitely hit all of that home.

I then got word about the Steampunk King the next day. I felt much differently about the bar and the dancing elders. Good for them for getting on the floor, enjoying the music, and enjoying life. Good for them for still having a sense of beauty and fun. In a way, they're pretty fortunate that they live in an area that really caters to them so they can live out their fourth quarter (as The Golf Pro called his phase of life), they have what they need and they are very safe.

Good for Carlo and the Golf Pro for keeping on. Good for my mother for embracing her age and how she looks. Good for my nieces who have spread their wings. Good for me and Mark for exploring all of this, and enjoying the companionship of one another despite our difference in age. Maybe he'll go after what he really seeks from hanging around with old people and seeing how fast it all goes, maybe.

downwind | upstream