"Surprise & Delight" We all have these levels of friends.
Best friends.
Good friends.
Friends.
Friends with Benefits (I think that is a healthcare thing?)
Co-workers.
Neighbors.
Bit players.
Extras.
Recently we learned of the passing of a gentleman named Bill Gau. As a I reflect on my memories of him (I didn't really 'know' him) I realized that these memories were all quite diverse and sometimes dreamlike.
Photographer/Documentarian That college era is so life-changing. There was an empty building in my college town that some fellows turned into a space for music and the bashing of appliances. Bill, thankfully, took a lot of photos. For the kids who discover this internet weblog one day: when I was your age, we did not all have one of the greatest cameras ever made in our pockets at all times. Even me who was supposed to be a 'photogrpaher' didn't take photos at these shows. Bill did. Thank goodness. So much of this era was documented by him. Bless.
He took photos on campus. He took photos of our friend Evan pondering ideas in front of an ancient Apple desktop computer in the office of our literary college magazine. He took a photo of me, that I don't particularly like, but it did document the dumb green hat I wore and the Goodwill winter coat I rocked.
Spicy Ginger Beer and an Omelette I knew Bill. Somehow. He was dating the woman who was our head person at the radio station. Maybe that is how? Maybe it was just that we seemed to know a lot of the same people. I don't know.
He had my phone number. One weekend morning the phone rang and it was Bill.
"Look at your back window", he says.
I did. I see him looking out his window. We wabe. His apartment (house) is on the other block, but our backyards back into each other.
"What are you doing? Let me come over and make you am omelette.", he asks.
Sure.
I was dating Mrs. Robot at the time. I tell her Bill Gau is coming over to make us breakfast. (She thinks, "This guy I'm dating sure is crazy! I should stay with him!")
Bill shows up with a bag of stuff. Tupperware's of ingredients. Eggs. He makes us all omelettes. I don't remember much about it, but it was a serious omelette and I had never had anything like it before. He brought us some spicy Ginger Beer. I was familiar with Ginger Ale ("mommy, my tummy hurts") but holy moly this was not the same thing. So spicy. I honestly think I've been chasing that initial spicy ginger beer taste ever since. Never recreated it.
We ate. He left and floated off into the ether. Or walked back to his apartment.
BMW Post-college, I followed his love of working on BMW cars. I don't own a car. I don't own a BMW. Yet I've always loved the old BMW 2002 and even more so the crazy 3.0 CSL / BMW E9. Tell me that is not one of the sexiest cars you've ever seen. He was a big deal in this world from what I can tell.
Robots Bill and I would bump into each other Instagram (apparently, we weren't 'friends' on Facebook??) and on STRAVA where he always gave me a thumbs up on my rides. Our last real connection was about a decade ago when I got some sort of message asking for my mailing address. A week later a package shows up with a brown t-shirt with robots on it that he found in Goodwill. His note said that he thought I needed the shirt. Thanks.
Epilogue This evening I was texting with a college chum, and the passing of Bill came up. I described my memories of him as almost dreamlike. He popped in. Surprised and delighted. And then he was gone.
