Your Voice Mail Was Full

Hey, Chuck.  I’m listening to some Live “Rosalita” tonight, and I thought of you.  You didn’t answer the phone, and your voice mail was full, so I’ll write it down for you.

The guy who bought your truck wrecked it on I-10W by Holt at the end of January. How do I know? He never re-registered it, so CHP and the wrecking yard kept sending stuff to you at my address.  Some of it I sent to Kathy, but most of it sits in a pile on the table next to my desk upstairs.

Kathy finally sold your house.  Cara didn’t want to list it, and Tia Wera is sweet as ever but barely remembers who I am, so we went with the lady who walked in high heels across your lawn to give me and Clifton her card and tell us about her Open House down the street, and then was embarrassed when she learned we were waiting for the morgue van, but she took the listing anyway.

It took us a while to get the house on the market, and then it needed more work than anybody thought, but we’re told the person who bought it loves it and can’t wait to make it her own place. I was reminded of that long, long day that you moved in, and we worked all day on paint and drywall and the beer keg to make it yours, and to us that’s better than a houseflipper turning it into his next Project.

They said the real estate agents didn’t change the locks, but my (I mean, your) key didn’t work the past couple of months, so I was unable to retrieve your clubs before escrow closed.  I had a dream the other night that I picked you up to carpool to this year’s Carrigan Cup, and halfway there we realized we had forgotten your clubs in the garage. I told Kathy about my dream, and yesterday she let me know she had your clubs in her possession, and I felt like I felt when The Hostages cleared Iranian Air Space back in ’81.  Remember?  Kathy is great.

On a sadder note, Sparky (Tom) died from his cancer late last year.  We’re trying to make the case that windmills caused it.  I’ll explain later, but you probably know this already.

Mom’s doing great. She misses your Saturday calls, though.

Say Hi for me to Terry and Dad.