You folks can thank me for enjoying Bob as long as we did. Years before his death, but while a writer I knew of, I was driving a truck through Thermopolis, Wyoming early one Sunday morning. Just as I was pulling out of a fueling station Bob staggered out from behind a sign, standing directly in front of my 63,000 pound rig. I slid it to a stop just inches from him. He looked up and didn't even nod, but staggered away. I was sure at the time then and now that he was inebriated.
This wasn't the first time something like this happened. Around 1975 I was driving my Plymouth Scamp through the crowded streets of Aspen, Colorado. From out of nowhere a tall lanky guy ran out directly in front of me chasing after an errantly thrown frisbee. I locked up the brakes and slid to a stop just feet front the English movie actor Michael York. His eyes got as wide as saucers at the close call. He then got a huge grin on his face, waved an apology wave to me, and off he went to finish his frisbee game.
Last edited by stuvwxyz; 12/18/20.
