Death of a Friend
My friend Chris died on Friday, July 1st. He was only 61. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in March and died in July. It’s difficult to believe.
Chris had such good health habits I was sure he’d outlast us all. I wish he had. There’s a superstition among medical personnel that nice people are more likely to get cancer than others, and that nice people are less likely to survive it. Based on the way too early deaths of Chris and our mutual friend Joe B., who died in his 40s of cancer, I wonder if there’s not something to it. The jerks of the world seem to live forever. Chris used to fantasize about all “the guys” being in a nursing home together in our old age, “Oh boy! It’s Tuesday! Tuesday is green Jell-O day!”
The thing I will always remember most about Chris is that loud, burbling, flock of geese honking laugh. Because that laugh was so unique, and because Chris laughed a lot, it was always easy to know when Chris was around.
I also will always remember that he had a habit of quoting Monty Python movies. One line he liked to pipe up with, often for no apparent reason, came from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?”
His favorite though was from The Life of Brian. It comes from a scene, set in biblical days, in which Brian’s mother is revealing that Brian’s father was not really Mr. Cohen, but actually a Roman. Chris did both voices, first Brian’s “You mean you were raped?!!” and then the high falsetto of Brian’s mother “Well, at first.” After hearing Chris do that shtick a couple of dozen times, we learned that anytime, anywhere. someone could say “You mean you were raped?” and Chris would squeak “Well, at first.”
I was once dating a woman named Belle who knew and liked Chris. We were up late watching a Law and Order rerun, and Belle had fallen asleep on the couch. During the climax of the court scene toward the end of the show, the prosecutor was examining the witness and asked her “You mean you were raped?!!” and (the supposedly sleeping) Belle piped up “Well, at first.”
If someone was commiserating about students, or administration, or...whatever, Chris might ask them “Haven’t you read Dr. Phil’s latest book on...” and he’d fill in the blank with whatever fit the topic being discussed. If you believed Chris, Dr. Phil has written a book on about every subject, and Chris has read it.
The man had a mind for mischief too. He would approach one of the guys and announce, “You know, don’t you, that Bones is FURIOUS at you!” (or Jim, or Allan or Ted). This of course was always a surprise to whomever he was pulling this joke on, and he could milk it for days.
Over a period of a couple of years, Chris would call the campus bookstore at then end of the semester, pretending to be Richard S. He would complain loud and long that the mortarboard he had rented for the graduation exercises the year before was way too large, and demand that THIS year’s rental be smaller. Subsequently, each year Richard found his rented graduation cap getting smaller and smaller until he could barely keep it balanced atop his head with pins to keep it perched there.
Chris was a sound believer that the one with the most toys won. He liked gadgets. He pretended to be worried that each of us owned four motor vehicles and that I might buy one more and he’d be behind. He was greatly relieved when I sold one of my cars, and he added a Jeep to his. From that point on there was no competition; Chris never seemed to sell a vehicle, keeping them on, in running order, like old friends that he just couldn’t bear to part with.
Chris was an incredible babe magnet. He liked women, and women liked him. Even in his 50s and 60s he could attract the attention of young pretty women in their 20s. It was a gift. Many a time I’d have young women come into my office and ask personal questions about Chris and then admit to a “crush” on him. His classes always had the honeys, which was odd because he taught astronomy and physics. Me? I’m a psychology teacher with women students who are commonly tattooed, pierced, middle-aged, and freshly out of rehab. Like I said, it was a gift.
There was an ambivalence about Chris that was telling. He was very proud of his service in the air force, but angry about the military policy that had placed him in Vietnam. He surprised me once by suggesting that the United States government apologize to the Vietnamese people for what we had done to them. And yet, one of the things we had in common was our love for military history; we’d watch Battlefield Detectives and discuss the shows at length at coffee the next morning.
Chris was a good guy. We’d do “field research” together for my Sex class in topless bars here in Tulsa. We met for coffee two or three times a week for 16 years. I don’t think in all that time we ever had a cross word for each other (something I can’t claim for others in our clique). I don’t have many friends. I just lost one of the few I had. He will be missed.
Chris had such good health habits I was sure he’d outlast us all. I wish he had. There’s a superstition among medical personnel that nice people are more likely to get cancer than others, and that nice people are less likely to survive it. Based on the way too early deaths of Chris and our mutual friend Joe B., who died in his 40s of cancer, I wonder if there’s not something to it. The jerks of the world seem to live forever. Chris used to fantasize about all “the guys” being in a nursing home together in our old age, “Oh boy! It’s Tuesday! Tuesday is green Jell-O day!”
The thing I will always remember most about Chris is that loud, burbling, flock of geese honking laugh. Because that laugh was so unique, and because Chris laughed a lot, it was always easy to know when Chris was around.
I also will always remember that he had a habit of quoting Monty Python movies. One line he liked to pipe up with, often for no apparent reason, came from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?”
His favorite though was from The Life of Brian. It comes from a scene, set in biblical days, in which Brian’s mother is revealing that Brian’s father was not really Mr. Cohen, but actually a Roman. Chris did both voices, first Brian’s “You mean you were raped?!!” and then the high falsetto of Brian’s mother “Well, at first.” After hearing Chris do that shtick a couple of dozen times, we learned that anytime, anywhere. someone could say “You mean you were raped?” and Chris would squeak “Well, at first.”
I was once dating a woman named Belle who knew and liked Chris. We were up late watching a Law and Order rerun, and Belle had fallen asleep on the couch. During the climax of the court scene toward the end of the show, the prosecutor was examining the witness and asked her “You mean you were raped?!!” and (the supposedly sleeping) Belle piped up “Well, at first.”
If someone was commiserating about students, or administration, or...whatever, Chris might ask them “Haven’t you read Dr. Phil’s latest book on...” and he’d fill in the blank with whatever fit the topic being discussed. If you believed Chris, Dr. Phil has written a book on about every subject, and Chris has read it.
The man had a mind for mischief too. He would approach one of the guys and announce, “You know, don’t you, that Bones is FURIOUS at you!” (or Jim, or Allan or Ted). This of course was always a surprise to whomever he was pulling this joke on, and he could milk it for days.
Over a period of a couple of years, Chris would call the campus bookstore at then end of the semester, pretending to be Richard S. He would complain loud and long that the mortarboard he had rented for the graduation exercises the year before was way too large, and demand that THIS year’s rental be smaller. Subsequently, each year Richard found his rented graduation cap getting smaller and smaller until he could barely keep it balanced atop his head with pins to keep it perched there.
Chris was a sound believer that the one with the most toys won. He liked gadgets. He pretended to be worried that each of us owned four motor vehicles and that I might buy one more and he’d be behind. He was greatly relieved when I sold one of my cars, and he added a Jeep to his. From that point on there was no competition; Chris never seemed to sell a vehicle, keeping them on, in running order, like old friends that he just couldn’t bear to part with.
Chris was an incredible babe magnet. He liked women, and women liked him. Even in his 50s and 60s he could attract the attention of young pretty women in their 20s. It was a gift. Many a time I’d have young women come into my office and ask personal questions about Chris and then admit to a “crush” on him. His classes always had the honeys, which was odd because he taught astronomy and physics. Me? I’m a psychology teacher with women students who are commonly tattooed, pierced, middle-aged, and freshly out of rehab. Like I said, it was a gift.
There was an ambivalence about Chris that was telling. He was very proud of his service in the air force, but angry about the military policy that had placed him in Vietnam. He surprised me once by suggesting that the United States government apologize to the Vietnamese people for what we had done to them. And yet, one of the things we had in common was our love for military history; we’d watch Battlefield Detectives and discuss the shows at length at coffee the next morning.
Chris was a good guy. We’d do “field research” together for my Sex class in topless bars here in Tulsa. We met for coffee two or three times a week for 16 years. I don’t think in all that time we ever had a cross word for each other (something I can’t claim for others in our clique). I don’t have many friends. I just lost one of the few I had. He will be missed.
posted by Satterwhite | 9:45 AM
1 Comments:
To view my myspace...myspace.com/avon_lady
I really enjoy our class, it does feel odd sometimes...I think you and I are the oldest people in there. I have found that true in many of the classes I have been in, but that is what I get for starting college at 32. (better late than never I so hate that word!) I totaly enjoyed reading your blog, your writing style is just...WOW! Me a cdollege student and cannot find a word to fit. LOL! Just a note if you ever go to Parkhill's (aka Fikes) we will be hosting a wine tasteing tomorrow, you have to sign up at Fred's to get in the door. Here's a thought for myself that I did not fail the test today, see you Thursday.
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