There are a number of things about which I want to write, and in a couple of cases, have promised to write. They are coming, as I slowly move towards a return to writing and more of the life I knew. It will take time, for a variety of reasons. One reason is that we had storms last night, and this evening I have to take care of some downed limbs/parts of trees before I can mow.
Also, I am sorry to say that all the comments to previous posts are lost courtesy of a glitch. If you care to replace them, please do.
Pulled the plug this morning and deactivated my FB account. Zuckerberg and those behind FB are antithetical to the concepts of the Enlightenment and the foundations of our Republic. When I HAD to provide a reason for my actions, I summarized by simply stating that they were scum and I refused to support them anymore. Yes, it will hurt on some levels, including marketing when I am writing again. Worth it though to be rid of having them sell me and my information, misuse my information, and otherwise supporting people that I do consider to be scum. Onwards.
As a writer, it pains me to say that for some stories, there just are no good words. The passing of Tim Bolgeo is one such story.
Rather, I would tell other stories about a man who was larger-than-life on many levels. The problem there is, where to start? Would it be about him having the cop who pulled him over for speeding sending him on his way without even a warning, then racing away from the nuclear power plant where Tim was headed as fast as he could? Would it be about the “report” on the loss of the Shuttle on a secure government server that ended with “It’s all Uncle Timmy’s Fault?” Would it be the sunburn that nearly got him courtmartialed many years ago? Would it be the extra duties he took on in Vietnam? Would it be, well, suffice it to say that there are several more to choose from.
I hate to admit it, but I can’t remember when I first met him. What I can say is that from the first he knew me, and acted as though I was family from the start. When he got the idea of starting LibertyCon, I found myself — whether I wanted to or not — railroaded into working the convention. By the time I heard the train, it was already over and past me — something not uncommon with Timmy as many will attest. It was an amazing time, setting up the first science programming and helping Klon with general programming. I can’t begin to count how many times I’ve stayed in his home, shared a room at conventions, or just sat and discussed everything from history to books with him. He taught me to play Killer Cutthroat Spades, encouraged me as a writer and offered good advice on life and work over the years. There are many tales there, from blanks getting slipped into his pistol at the range to his flask being liberated on the sly to provide drinks for guests at the dance. So many tales. I’m not sure he ever met a stranger, and today I remember the man who was a friend to all (even some who were not friends to him) and was there for his friends when needed.
It was an honor to know him and his family, and to be a small part of getting LibertyCon started. My prayers go out for him, for Linda Vannucci Bolgeo, Brandy Spraker, Jason, and all his family. I would ask you for your prayers, thoughts, or whatever you do for them all.