Bob Wells died today.

Lovely.

What magnificent images: a good-looking boy and a beautiful man.

I've just look through the photos of the 2005's gathering threads 8here in Germany and in London): Bob without hat and in tennis shoes ...

Is it possible for you to show them to us?

Lemme tell a little story to explain the tennis shoes.

Little boy goes up to a cowboy and asks if he's a real cowboy. Cowboy say "yup". Little boy asks why he's wearing the hat. Cowboy explains that the hat keeps the sun off his head in the summer, and the rain off when it rains. Kid asks about the bandanna and learns it keeps the sun off his neck, and the dust out of his mouth when the wind blows. Then he hears all about the chaps protecting his legs when chasing cows through the brush.

Kid stands back and says "Hey mister, if you're a cowboy, how come you're wearing tennis shoes.

"That's so people don't think I'm a truck driver", the cowboy said.

Nice story, roger.

Very funny, Roger. I can imagine Bob agreeing.

I still log in with half expectation that Bob will log on also.

I know, edgar.
Same here.

Yeah, I was listening today about the NM fires around Los Alamos and caught myself looking forward to Bob's comments.

It's hard to get used to a dys-less A2K, isn't it?

Absolutely, when I read the title of this thread, I'm always stunned.

Yes, I feel the same, JL.
Shocked by the reality, each time.

Yes, there's a strange emotional and cognitive dissonance: I can't believe it yet I know it's true.

Edgar, you and the others who have felt the same sense of loss, are expressing what I feel. I turn to tell Bob something or to ask a question. Even at the grocery store I have to stop myself from buying something that would be good for Bob.

When someone has been so well-loved, the pain of his loss will take a long time to heal.

I'm sad to say that I have lost a lot of the stories I had written down as soon as Bob would tell them. We gave my old computer away and, apparently, all those files were lost. Maybe if I put a little pressure on the person to whom we gave the computer, he will be willing to take the time to try to find them.

Since Bob's death, I haven't been able to concentrate or focus very well. As things get better, I hope that my memory and my ability to concentrate will improve enough to relate some of his stories here.

I will ask again for anyone who remembers any of Bob's stories to post them here. Your memory is far better than mine, I am sure.

just stopping in to say hi diane.

Well, there's insegrevious, which has already been mentioned, I think....



http://able2know.org/topic/6476-2#post-176846

When Bob and I sat in the garage, the couple of times I've been able to stay with both of you, we talk a lot, about the past and present.

And there are quite a few stories, I always remember very well.
Extraordinary stories from Bob's life. Told be an extraordinary man.

You'll remember this, Diane.
Bob was the "news anchor" of a radio station in a small town on the border of New Mexico to Texas.
Just after a few days living there, he already became famous of being an hippie, communist, anarchist ... name it.
One evening, he was sitting in his (rather large) garage of his (rather large) renting home a bit outside town, smoking and thinking what the hell he was doing there.
He suddenly heart a car approaching, but stopping in some distance. Then, after a couple of minutes, whispering was to be heard from the front garden and a peculiar noise, as if something was burning.
It was. A cross.
Bob lightened the scene with a large torch, saw eight, nine persons, told them, they should carry on, he only wanted to load his weapons .... and they fled.
The next morning, he talked on his radio show about this and that .... and thanked the people of this town for the warm welcome, even done by three police officers of the town's police force.

This was shortly after 6 o'clock in the morning. Two hours later, the chief phoned him at the radio station, didn't really say an excuse but said, his men had done that privately and it was only thought to be a joke ...

Well, Bob didn't live in that town very long.