HOT ROD

 

I just found out something I dreaded, but knew was coming... my friend Rodney had passed. 

I've known Hot Rod for almost 40 years. He was always good for a story and a LOT of laughs. He had the most interesting life, and was a rough-around-the-edges kind of guy. He loved cars, especially old Fords, Middletown football, and bringing a smile to your face. 

I met him while on my first real, full-time job. He befriended me easily, and even though he was over 10 years older, I saw him as the brother I never had. He knew a lot about a lot of things. He could paint a car or a home. He could fix the plumbing and fix your radiator. He could build you a house, or repair just about anything. He shared his knowledge of history in and about my hometown, and we went to car shows and swap meets along the way. 

He had a tough life, but always persevered. He had been to exotic places, fought in a mindless war, lost many close friends in the passing years, but always managed to laugh about almost everything. When the flood of '72 took almost all of his possessions, he just worked harder to get new stuff. We added up his biggest assets once, many years later, and he couldn't believe that it made him a millionaire. His story was truly, started from nothing and ended up a much beloved and successful man. 

As a small business owner, he had story after story of folks taking advantage of his generosity. He would get mad at himself for allowing people, even ones he knew for decades, to screw him in his wallet. But the thing was, his kindness always extended to those that needed it. Even if he knew he wouldn't get paid. 

I once brought him a customer, who was VERY much in need of a car repair. He told me the job required him to take out most of the interior and would justify a $1500 bill. He only charged her $900, which she immediately complained about and didn't pay. I felt guilty enough that I paid it for her, but it affected our friendship going forward. That was ok. I DIDN'T want to risk my good friend Rodney thinking anything bad of me. 

When he first got sick, he told me his wish was to get past 70 years old. He knew he was lucky to have experienced way more than his share of cool things, so he wasn't greedy. He got his wish plus a few years. 

I think I will go cry now and miss my friend. He was one in a million, and there's no replacing his humor, his support of my sometimes questionable decisions, and his endless stories of the lunacy of the human condition. 

I luv you man.... hope to see you again. I miss you already.