Memoirs of a Geezer!
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth
to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!
This Episode: Losing a Great Friend too Soon, too Young... It Just Aint Right!!
We'd often get together at the weekend for prodigious night-clubbing and drinking. It was a Friday night. We decide -- or maybe he decides -- to venture to a night spot we'd often frequented. (Long gone now, it was called "Beneath the Street," I think...)
The Everly Brothers are appearing, and we somehow snag a table "expensively" close to the stage, as if we'd bribed the head waiter. No head waiters there, just servers, "beverage hosts" and bouncers.
Pat disappears, and I don't really notice where he's gone, as I'm pleasantly floating on a euphoric bubble of booze-inspired semi-consciousness. Don and Phil, the Everly Brothers, sit down at my table. "Hey, how you doin' this fine evening," asks Don, or maybe it was Phil...
"Uh... I'm doin' fine, thanks," I say, somewhat bewildered.
"What did you think of our set?" asks Phil, or Don maybe.
"You two are great," I say in reply. "I love your style, your singing and the tunes you do. I love the old stuff, your signature tunes."
"Lemme buy you a drink. What are you drinking? Miss!!" one of them calls out, "Give our friend, here, whatever he wants!" This from Phil, or maybe it was Don. I accept!
"I guess I'll have another of these," I say. "Nut brown ale."
"Wanna jolt of something stiffer?" asks Don (Phil?).
"Nah, thanks, the beer's just fine."
It goes on like that for 15, 20 minutes, the length of their break between sets. They return to the
stage. I muse that my great friend, Pat -- sometimes I called him Gord -- was in Armed Forces Radio (and Television) in Germany. He had extended his enlistment to do something he loved. And he was great at it, with an excellent, sonorous and "pear-shaped" tonal quality to his superb voice, a bonus in such work, probably needless to add.
He met many celebrities in Germany through his work, including "Jack," who became an NBC newscaster in Los Angeles and married an actress named Joan. Pat and Jack became and remained good friends in spite of the distance between LA and Milwaukee. Pat was best man at their wedding.
Eventually, Pat returns to our table, explaining that he was visiting, catching up and sharing stories with Don and Phil whom he came to know through Armed Forces Radio.
"So," I ask, "Why were the Everly's so friendly toward me of all people?"
"I told them you're a big-time Milwaukee DJ. 'He'll play lots of your music if you're nice to him', I told the boys!"
We laughed. I cursed and complained at him with jovial good humor. He was like that, always... full of practical jokes, silliness, fun and great humor. He loved to put me in crazy and sometimes embarrassing circumstances. That was his way, and I thoroughly enjoyed the sport! He was among my very closest and most cherished friends. He was in SweetHeart's and my wedding, and we were in his. His wife -- we call her Joey -- was and is a treasure, and remains a great friend whose company we enjoy enormously.
Pat died in April of this year, far too young, far too soon. We were in the military together, and spent some 18 months stationed in Turkey. We had great times and many adventures, loaded with mischief. Late one evening, returning from our duties, our second shift in "Research and Development" in the Air Force Security Service, we "borrowed" one of the shuttle buses in order to get to the Airman's Club before closing time, but that was one of our tamer episodes. We raised lots of hell in Istanbul, drank way too much, traded in contraband, once were caught up in a minor revolution... Pat enjoyed the time my feet were run over by a taxi cab outside a pavilion (an Istanbul night spot!). What a sense of humor. Far more than that, he had a gift for comedy, fun and wildly silly humor!!
He loved being of Irish descent; a DNA test proved him to be predominantly Irish. He and Joey, Steve and Andrea were able to visit Ireland, a trip he greatly enjoyed. And there may even have been some pubs involved...
Too many years passed that we did not see or interact regularly with one another on a personal level, but we did always manage to meet on occasion, to speak via telephone and trade nonsense. SweetHeart and I visited him in hospital during his final days, told stories, even sang one of his favorite tunes. He seemed to enjoy the occasion, at least we hope he did!
Pat was -- like SweetHeart and other great friends still are -- a treasure in my life. I loved him more than I ever told him, and wish I had done so. I'll miss him every day. But like the aftertaste of a favorite dish or a nut brown ale (or, these days, a Diet Pepsi Cola with a wedge of fresh lime), a memory will rise in my throat and move to my heart, and I'll savor, once again, his memory, our friendship and the times we spent together.
We'd often get together at the weekend for prodigious night-clubbing and drinking. It was a Friday night. We decide -- or maybe he decides -- to venture to a night spot we'd often frequented. (Long gone now, it was called "Beneath the Street," I think...)
 |
| A splendid looking chap... Dashing, even! |
Pat disappears, and I don't really notice where he's gone, as I'm pleasantly floating on a euphoric bubble of booze-inspired semi-consciousness. Don and Phil, the Everly Brothers, sit down at my table. "Hey, how you doin' this fine evening," asks Don, or maybe it was Phil...
"Uh... I'm doin' fine, thanks," I say, somewhat bewildered.
"What did you think of our set?" asks Phil, or Don maybe.
"You two are great," I say in reply. "I love your style, your singing and the tunes you do. I love the old stuff, your signature tunes."
"Lemme buy you a drink. What are you drinking? Miss!!" one of them calls out, "Give our friend, here, whatever he wants!" This from Phil, or maybe it was Don. I accept!
"I guess I'll have another of these," I say. "Nut brown ale."
"Wanna jolt of something stiffer?" asks Don (Phil?).
"Nah, thanks, the beer's just fine."
It goes on like that for 15, 20 minutes, the length of their break between sets. They return to the
He met many celebrities in Germany through his work, including "Jack," who became an NBC newscaster in Los Angeles and married an actress named Joan. Pat and Jack became and remained good friends in spite of the distance between LA and Milwaukee. Pat was best man at their wedding.
Eventually, Pat returns to our table, explaining that he was visiting, catching up and sharing stories with Don and Phil whom he came to know through Armed Forces Radio.
"So," I ask, "Why were the Everly's so friendly toward me of all people?"
"I told them you're a big-time Milwaukee DJ. 'He'll play lots of your music if you're nice to him', I told the boys!"
Pat died in April of this year, far too young, far too soon. We were in the military together, and spent some 18 months stationed in Turkey. We had great times and many adventures, loaded with mischief. Late one evening, returning from our duties, our second shift in "Research and Development" in the Air Force Security Service, we "borrowed" one of the shuttle buses in order to get to the Airman's Club before closing time, but that was one of our tamer episodes. We raised lots of hell in Istanbul, drank way too much, traded in contraband, once were caught up in a minor revolution... Pat enjoyed the time my feet were run over by a taxi cab outside a pavilion (an Istanbul night spot!). What a sense of humor. Far more than that, he had a gift for comedy, fun and wildly silly humor!!
Too many years passed that we did not see or interact regularly with one another on a personal level, but we did always manage to meet on occasion, to speak via telephone and trade nonsense. SweetHeart and I visited him in hospital during his final days, told stories, even sang one of his favorite tunes. He seemed to enjoy the occasion, at least we hope he did!
Pat was -- like SweetHeart and other great friends still are -- a treasure in my life. I loved him more than I ever told him, and wish I had done so. I'll miss him every day. But like the aftertaste of a favorite dish or a nut brown ale (or, these days, a Diet Pepsi Cola with a wedge of fresh lime), a memory will rise in my throat and move to my heart, and I'll savor, once again, his memory, our friendship and the times we spent together.
Humbly Submitted, 05-23-18 -- Joel K.
