9:20 p.m. - 2004-09-21
Jim's unhappy anniversary
Well, I'll say one thing for Hurricane Ivan. He sure left the most amazing, gorgeous, beautiful weather behind him.
Gorgeous!! Freakin' Gorgeous!!
It's about 80 and breezy, and clear and sunny. There's a little hint of fall in the air.
It's really gorgeous. Wow.
********************
Spooky story time.
Three years ago this weekend, my friend Jim Clark committed suicide. I was pretty devastated, as we had known each other for almost 20 years, and he was a dear friend.
Over the years since he left this mortal coil, I've tried to sort of get over it. As well as anyone can get over these things. I no longer feel intensely sad, or angry, although I do talk to him once in awhile when I think he might be around.
I wasn't thinking about him this weekend though, and I certainly wasn't talking to him. I was running around like a madwoman. I guess Jim didn't like being ignored on his unhappy anniversary, though, because two things happened to jar my memory.
The first is that I ran into Alabama Art Supply to get self-hardening clay. When I came out a car was parked right in front of the door. On the front was a dealer license plate thingey. And the name of the dealer?
Jim Clark Motors.
Yup, Jim Clark Motors, in bright red letters right in front of me. Is that too much of a coincidence?
And it was an out-of-state car. It's not like that was a common plate from a local dealer.
The second memory jab was that on the way back to Birmingham on Sunday, Wendy was looking at the stuff on my sun visor. She started reading a Yeats poem that I have pinned up there.
"How come you have this poem here?' she asked.
"Oh, I love that poem, and it reminds me of Jim." I replied.
"Your friend who killed himself?"
"Yeah, it's been about three years now. It'll be three years....my God, it's three years this weekend!"
Ok Jim, I'm listening. You want to talk?
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