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V.I.P. AmberLander
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My mother is in poor health as well so I understand how painful this can be. I am so sorry this is happening to you.
He was the Santa that sealed my disillusion.
Not yet four, earliest of memories, woken after midnight,
told Santa waited to receive my wishes a room away.
Plodded skeptically through the door way,
I knew at once from across the room it was Stuart.
Dressed in red felt, gold buckles, and a huge fake face of white whiskers.
Hanging down so far, this fake beard lay across the top of his huge real belly.
He would only play Santa one more time the following year.
twenty three then, he would retain this physical condition more or less for the next 46 years.
He was a big man at 6'2", and not incapable of obtaining big goals.
UC Berkeley class of 1967, Phi Beta Kappa, UC Berkeley-Boalt Hall School of Law class of 1970
Three or four times in his life he fought his weight down to under 300 lbs and won some temporary victories. Short lived, these goals always reversed, his burden advanced as many times to a point in excess of 500lbs.
In the last 10 years approximately, he had managed a pretty constant weight right around 400lbs Tho not as bad as 500lbs, it did, in the end, prove fatal.
He, - this Santa of my most early memory, died of a massive heart attack returning from his daughter's wedding in Ashland OR.
He was one of the best criminal lawyers in the area. He was pompous. He was long winded. He loved to hear himself speak. He was a great story teller.
He was my brother.
Not yet four, earliest of memories, woken after midnight,
told Santa waited to receive my wishes a room away.
Plodded skeptically through the door way,
I knew at once from across the room it was Stuart.
Dressed in red felt, gold buckles, and a huge fake face of white whiskers.
Hanging down so far, this fake beard lay across the top of his huge real belly.
He would only play Santa one more time the following year.
twenty three then, he would retain this physical condition more or less for the next 46 years.
He was a big man at 6'2", and not incapable of obtaining big goals.
UC Berkeley class of 1967, Phi Beta Kappa, UC Berkeley-Boalt Hall School of Law class of 1970
Three or four times in his life he fought his weight down to under 300 lbs and won some temporary victories. Short lived, these goals always reversed, his burden advanced as many times to a point in excess of 500lbs.
In the last 10 years approximately, he had managed a pretty constant weight right around 400lbs Tho not as bad as 500lbs, it did, in the end, prove fatal.
He, - this Santa of my most early memory, died of a massive heart attack returning from his daughter's wedding in Ashland OR.
He was one of the best criminal lawyers in the area. He was pompous. He was long winded. He loved to hear himself speak. He was a great story teller.
He was my brother.
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Thanks PB. Because there is only one other close family member, ( brother Jim) and b/e he had only an old phone #, and b/c I had not checked my email in close to a week (no longer my primary account), i only found out about Brother stew's death on the 6th - 2 days after the service. Spent a day numb, another day numb thinking i was just not effected b/c there had been some sense it could be any day for a lot of years. (carring that much weight beyond 50-55 is like asking a sump pump to run a water slide.) And yesterday after posting i realized I'm still a bit numb, tho posting here - saying it out loud helped to begin to make it real. In the time since i have been constantly busying myself with all sort of overdue projects. This is in direct opposition to my natural tendency to be not much less lethargic than a three toed sloth. A defense mechanism at work no doubt.
The only thing that fascinated him as much as the law did was military history. In 2009 he earned a MA Military History. Over the years i spent many hours retaining little, while enjoying most of the highly detail saturated lectures of one aspect or the other of law, or the military significance of one battle or the other.I sometimes thought perhaps Stuart's re animation of events were taking place in real time. though one would never suggest that to Stuart, because of course they were as best it could be. All kidding aside, i think i tended to enjoy these stories as well as any and better than most.
Sometimes it seems that by the time ppl mature enough to become really fascinating, or we mature enough to see what is truly fascinating, we don't have a bunch of time to enjoy it.
Oh and thanks for the place to put this PB. Not a happy thread but better than posting in daily thoughts, as i was going to before I remembered this.
The only thing that fascinated him as much as the law did was military history. In 2009 he earned a MA Military History. Over the years i spent many hours retaining little, while enjoying most of the highly detail saturated lectures of one aspect or the other of law, or the military significance of one battle or the other.I sometimes thought perhaps Stuart's re animation of events were taking place in real time. though one would never suggest that to Stuart, because of course they were as best it could be. All kidding aside, i think i tended to enjoy these stories as well as any and better than most.
Sometimes it seems that by the time ppl mature enough to become really fascinating, or we mature enough to see what is truly fascinating, we don't have a bunch of time to enjoy it.
Live every day BB's, Live every day.
Oh and thanks for the place to put this PB. Not a happy thread but better than posting in daily thoughts, as i was going to before I remembered this.
RoxieRed
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I am so sorry that you have to go through this. You have always struck me as such a good and strong person. That same strength can help you through this, as well as the love and support this community is here to offer you. Even though I have never met you in person you are definitely on my mind during this time, and I am sure you are on the minds of many others here. Keep the good memories of your mother close to your heart.
Leslie Cochran, Died almost a year ago, he was a very good person, and it makes me sad he no longer entertains the people of Austin.
I am glad I know, but wish it could have waited till tomorrow, or the day after. I met Leslie right after getting to Austin in January 97. Leslie had been in town for about a year and had just got out of jail. He decided to fight his third or forth arrest for "camping within the city limits". A law promoted by down town business interest and the Austin CCC, and endorsed by Austin PD. The only thing the law had to do with camping, was that the word appeared in its title. It had everything to do with finding a way to legally arrest at will anyone who APD deemed homeless, or an eyesore.
We became very good friends and,,,,, ,,, .... nothing beyond that matters. Bye Leslie
I would have found a way down there to see you one last time if you would have let me know you were going.
Leslie had three different beat up cardboard signs, and one morning as I peddled past Leslie on my way to work, he screamed at me to come back in such a freaked the fuk out sounding way, I really thought something bad had happened. Leslie had a huge piece of card board and he had transferred two of the three protest statements, but had burned out his markers. Could I get him a marker? I went and checked in, said I needed to take Leslie a marker as I rifled through the counter drawer. Freddy tossed me his keys and told me to get a new one outa the supply cabinet. On his hands and knees Leslie was already done with the 'W' of "Why" and was doing the 'h' when a random guy walking buy, said I think that should be "Are" not "is" He was right, and I still wonder why I, or one of the hundreds who walked past Leslie every day had not noticed before or said something.
Some one dressed Leslie this day no doubt. He had all sorts of cool stuff to wear, but had no sense of colour coordination. But he didn't care even a little about what he was wearing, as long as it was enough to keep him from being arrested. - He figured the ass made the outfit, not the other way around.
I think it was the South by Southwest week, - all of 6th street was closed. About half way down the street, there had been an outdoor stage setup just off 6th in a little finger of a side street that also had been roped off. I don't remember who was playing, it may have been LosLonleyBoys, or one of the other soon to be hot bands that spring from Austin on a regular basis. The street was packed tight on all three sides of the stage - no way to get close to the stage. Then it struck me if I could get around behind the black cat bar, I could get on the retaining wall, and walk along the top of it about 25-30 yards and I would be right beside the stage but about 15 feet above street level. It was so perfect, my own little sky box, and where I sat the wall made a jog and there was a wooden fence behind me so I could lean back and also have my legs kicked out in front of me. The few below who had noticed me, nudged others to point out my coolest of cool perches. There was no doubt in my rapidly expanding head who the coolest guy in Austin was right then. Being deeply emerged in the euphoria of my ME'ness had distracted me from all else, and why not, I was the great king of Austin, Live Music Capitol of all the universe! Then I felt it, a sting, then several across my shoulder blades, (TX.,LA., prolly across the south, you understand, if not, these are fire ants, they look very much the same as the Small black ants we have in Northern California, but they are not even close. Besides stinging the shit out of you, they somehow latch on to you so you have to wipe or rub them off.) Jumping to my feet, I took a quick look at the fence I had been leaning against, and I must have literately caught a whole colony in some sort of mass migration. There was divisions, no, a whole army of ants moving in a formation about two feet wide and right across where I had been leaning.
When I got to where Leslie was sitting a block down 6th street, I through down my bike and yelling for him to help me, I have fire ants all over my back. I ripped my shirt off and clawed at the back of my neck to keep them from getting into my hair, Leslie had come out to where I stood in the street and in his pink ballerina skirt, ruffle thing and red white and blue halter top slapped first at my back,then my lower back, and then the back of my legs, (I had shorts on.) I really don't know what exactly I would have done if Leslie had not been there? I had so many on me it would have been near impossible to get them off by my self. And getting a stranger to rub ants off you might be tough.
Once you got to know Leslie, you learned he is prolly saner than most. He was just traveling a little different plain than others, that doesn't make him crazy, just unique.
I am glad I know, but wish it could have waited till tomorrow, or the day after. I met Leslie right after getting to Austin in January 97. Leslie had been in town for about a year and had just got out of jail. He decided to fight his third or forth arrest for "camping within the city limits". A law promoted by down town business interest and the Austin CCC, and endorsed by Austin PD. The only thing the law had to do with camping, was that the word appeared in its title. It had everything to do with finding a way to legally arrest at will anyone who APD deemed homeless, or an eyesore.
We became very good friends and,,,,, ,,, .... nothing beyond that matters. Bye Leslie
I would have found a way down there to see you one last time if you would have let me know you were going.Leslie had three different beat up cardboard signs, and one morning as I peddled past Leslie on my way to work, he screamed at me to come back in such a freaked the fuk out sounding way, I really thought something bad had happened. Leslie had a huge piece of card board and he had transferred two of the three protest statements, but had burned out his markers. Could I get him a marker? I went and checked in, said I needed to take Leslie a marker as I rifled through the counter drawer. Freddy tossed me his keys and told me to get a new one outa the supply cabinet. On his hands and knees Leslie was already done with the 'W' of "Why" and was doing the 'h' when a random guy walking buy, said I think that should be "Are" not "is" He was right, and I still wonder why I, or one of the hundreds who walked past Leslie every day had not noticed before or said something.
Some one dressed Leslie this day no doubt. He had all sorts of cool stuff to wear, but had no sense of colour coordination. But he didn't care even a little about what he was wearing, as long as it was enough to keep him from being arrested. - He figured the ass made the outfit, not the other way around.
I think it was the South by Southwest week, - all of 6th street was closed. About half way down the street, there had been an outdoor stage setup just off 6th in a little finger of a side street that also had been roped off. I don't remember who was playing, it may have been LosLonleyBoys, or one of the other soon to be hot bands that spring from Austin on a regular basis. The street was packed tight on all three sides of the stage - no way to get close to the stage. Then it struck me if I could get around behind the black cat bar, I could get on the retaining wall, and walk along the top of it about 25-30 yards and I would be right beside the stage but about 15 feet above street level. It was so perfect, my own little sky box, and where I sat the wall made a jog and there was a wooden fence behind me so I could lean back and also have my legs kicked out in front of me. The few below who had noticed me, nudged others to point out my coolest of cool perches. There was no doubt in my rapidly expanding head who the coolest guy in Austin was right then. Being deeply emerged in the euphoria of my ME'ness had distracted me from all else, and why not, I was the great king of Austin, Live Music Capitol of all the universe! Then I felt it, a sting, then several across my shoulder blades, (TX.,LA., prolly across the south, you understand, if not, these are fire ants, they look very much the same as the Small black ants we have in Northern California, but they are not even close. Besides stinging the shit out of you, they somehow latch on to you so you have to wipe or rub them off.) Jumping to my feet, I took a quick look at the fence I had been leaning against, and I must have literately caught a whole colony in some sort of mass migration. There was divisions, no, a whole army of ants moving in a formation about two feet wide and right across where I had been leaning.
When I got to where Leslie was sitting a block down 6th street, I through down my bike and yelling for him to help me, I have fire ants all over my back. I ripped my shirt off and clawed at the back of my neck to keep them from getting into my hair, Leslie had come out to where I stood in the street and in his pink ballerina skirt, ruffle thing and red white and blue halter top slapped first at my back,then my lower back, and then the back of my legs, (I had shorts on.) I really don't know what exactly I would have done if Leslie had not been there? I had so many on me it would have been near impossible to get them off by my self. And getting a stranger to rub ants off you might be tough.
Once you got to know Leslie, you learned he is prolly saner than most. He was just traveling a little different plain than others, that doesn't make him crazy, just unique.
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