Been thinking ’bout my buddy this weekend. Gar is having his first big party in the sky. You know he would have been planning something big if he was here, so you know he is doing something even bigger now.
Garnet is fresh in my mind, I talk to him all the time, I think about him all the time. I still note out loud or in my mind something that Gar would like, or something that would really get him going when I told him about it later. Now I tell all you guys, and we all have that knowing nod, how Gar would react to it. That’s how it is now, how it will always be.
Happy Birthday Garnet
Hats off to Gar, Gar’s family, and all Gar’s friends….
It has occured to me that Gar is the first of my friends from my generation to not die suddenly. When one dies suddenly it is so shocking and discombobulating. With Gar there was time to reflect. Gar was the most Zen guy I’ve ever known. He got the whole idea of life and death being one. He was calm and accepting of his fate. He did what everyone says that they are going to do but few actually do do. (That sounds funny - I think that that is grammerically correct.) Given the little time he had left, he spent as much of it as possible, going to exotic places and being with friends and family. Because of Gar, I am much less afraid of death. It was so refreshing to witness someone be so at peace with the afterlife without all the dogmatic crap of organized religion. At the pig roast, two days before he died, with all of the million thoughts that could be going through his mind, his last, barely audible words to me were, ” Don, I have you golf shoes in my van.” It just doesn’t get any more Zen than that! A true Zen Master - the Zen of Gar.
So fast forward to last weekend at Kirby Cove. Sharon had assembled individual packets in small “trick or treat” party favor bags that contained several ounces of Gar’s ashes and a trinket from Gar’s collection of things that he had saved. (By the way, thank you Sharon for doing this. You are a major reason why Gar was so at peace with his life.) Like the surprise toy in Crackerjacks, I opened mine right away. It was a piece of crystal. I love it because it is a permanent reminder of Gar that is unique.
Now we are on the beach. Dimetria said that the Vikings would put their dead in a boat, light it on fire and send it out to sea. Well, in San Francisco we put our friend’s ashes in a pumpkin, carve our initials on it and send it out into the Pacific Ocean at sunset. It sounds so silly and irreverent but it was so right. I confess that I became a little emotional. We each threw a beautiful rose into the water and they float just like the pumpkin do. (OK, that’s not grammerically correct but I like the way it sounds.) I followed the pumpkin, which was refered to simply as Gar, with his escort of roses for as long as I could. It was an apt metaphor for Gar’s life, bobbing happily in the current drifting off to whatever adventure happens next. Eventually it disappeared out of sight into the shimmering golden light.
There was one last thing for me to do. (enough already!) About 45 minutes later, I went off by myself with my personal packet of Gar’s ashes. It was that particularly quiet time of evening just before night. I went to a place that had special meaning to me from my high school days at Kirby Cove. As I was sprinkling Gar’s ashes on the ground, I felt the need to say something so I said softly, “Rest in peace my brother.” Then, when the packet was empty, I said in a louder voice, “Rock on!”
October 27-28, 2007, Gar as a rainbow sundog watches as Gar as a pumpkin goes to sea.
(Kat’s photos)
…and I bet there are more stories to tell.
I’ve thought a lot about a way I could carry Gar with me, his friendship was so important to me, as I describe below, but first the story. I decided I would look for a Garnet ring to wear in his honor, in his memory. I knew an appropriate place to find such a ring would be at a festival. Gar liked fesitvals, in part I am sure, because, well, they are Festive. Gar liked Festive. He also appreciated the craftsmanship of artisans that are found at festivals. I didn’t know when, or where it would be, but I knew that I would know when I found the right ring.
So, yesterday in Austin, Bryan and I went to the Pecan Street Festival, they close the infamous Sixth Street and it is filled with vendors & live music and a party ensues. Beer in hand we took to the street, pausing to take in a beautiful broad Rainbow that had appeared in the distance. To our left, a booth filled with gemstone jewelry. Go figure. In the case a gold Garnet ring, a large Gorgeous Garnet. Beside it the following description: “Garnet (Red): To aid in balancing and increasing one’s energy, to promote good luck, to aid one against loss of money, to aid one with love and success in all endeavors, to increase one’s positive attitude towards others. Red Garnets are excellent for those that are engaged in business for themselves.” Need I say more. The ring is the perfect size. It’s now mine. Thrilled with my purchase we carry on, browsing the rest of the Fest. It’s late in the day, we’re heading to Antone’s for a benefit show for a local musician, a who’s who of Austin musicians set to peform. As we make our way down the street, we pass the booth where I purchased the ring. I stopped briefly to tell the vendor how much I love it, and that it has great meaning for me, and just as she says she’s happy for me Bryan directs my attention to the skies, where another Rainbow has appeared. For the Love of Gar. He couldn’t have picked a better way to make his presence known to me. I had a Moment there on the street, I kissed my new Garnet ring, I waved to Gar in the rainbow, I felt the love. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Many of you know the light in which I held my friendship with Gar. To friends about to meet Gar, and I was always excited to introduce him, I described ours as one of those few friendships where I KNEW, unconditionally that no matter the situation I may face at any given time, where I needed a friend, I needed help, I was in trouble, that he would be there for me. He would come, no matter the cost, no matter the timing, no matter the distance. I Knew that about our relationship. It was good to know. I hope everyone feels the security of a friendship like that. The Fun, the Parties, the Conversations, Big Laughs, sharing Life’s Adventures, that was all important and true to the core, but it was the depth of committment that I felt that went far beyond the good times. It’s rare, I treasured it. The red ember glow in my new treasure is Gar, and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise.
Anyone else been touched by Gar lately?
Fabulous Judy
First of all, I am not a drunken, uncontrollable madman, but I play one on this blog.
Secondly, the Garmorial was beautiful, wonderful and horribly sad. Thank you all.
Thirdly, to those of you who encountered an odd drunken man at the grove who suddenly hugged either you or everyone in your group, it was me. During the service I imagined my life as a giant sheet of dough. I felt as though a Gar-shaped cookie cutter had removed gar from my life and I was trying to fill that hole with hugs from all of you; Gar left a large hole.
Fourth, water in general and the ocean in particular are of immense importance to me. I often say surfing is only good for three things: mind, body and soul. I never feel more comfortable or sure of a greater power and the connectivity of life than when I am in the ocean. Until that day I never knew Gar had lived in Hawaii when he was young. I did, too, in 64-65, I wonder if Gar and I crossed paths here? I wished I could ask.
Penultimately, I don’t wear jewelry. I tossed my watch in the street 15 years ago. My wife was shocked to discover I planned to wear my wedding ring and was even more shocked to find I was still wearing it on our first anniversary (it still drives me crazy). When Gar talked about his beaded bracelets I hoped I was one of the lucky ones to get one, but was nervous about, well, adornments. One of the many weird views I have is that at some point one stops owning one’s stuff and one’s stuff begins to own you. Jewelry, due to its value and history tends to take control of a person sooner than most, so I shy away. Besides, watches always stop working when I wear them and I lose things at a pretty amazing rate. When Gar gave me the bracelet I saw the importance of it in his eyes, the worry that it had too much import and his concern I might not wear it. Due to my clumsiness and two dishwashing shifts at the Oregon Country Fair I placed the bracelet on my ankle and left it there. It came off a few times with my socks, my son tugged it off, but I still had it on. I would feel it and think of Gar or all of you. When I swam in the pool it massaged my ankle, and I thought of Gar. When I needed, I fumbled with the garnet.
Last, I’m an engineer by training. I like to think of myself as a scientist. I don’t believe in things that can’t be measured.
The ceremony was beautiful. I have never lived in San Francisco and cherish moments when I can absorb the feel and wonder of the city. I am a big fan of the comic “All Over Coffee” with it’s scenes of San Francisco in pen and ink. I love the way he captures the light, shadow, and odd angles of San Francisco. After the ceremony I watched the children playing, saw the shadow of the schoolyard gate forming St. Cecelia on the cracked asphalt and, feeling like I was in an “All Over Coffee” I inhaled the feel. The light, the air, the church, it was all perfect. I wished Gar were there to describe playing in his uniform.
Stern Grove was incredible. Changing out of my suit on the street behind a hedge, drinking a beer with Judy in front of Safeway, hauling an ice chest down the path, it all seemed meant to be. The redwoods made us Humboldt people feel at home. I walked ‘bout the grounds and tried to absorb the residual Garness from 30 years ago. Music, food, beer, wonderful folks. When I wasn’t laughing I cried. How could it be so wonderful and sad at the same time?
For reasons I didn’t understand we decided to go the Beach Chalet bar in Ocean Beach. I recall I liked the words ocean, beach and bar, so I was game. I rode over with Bryan, Judy and Henry. I stuck my head out the window like a dog. Smelling the air, feeing the vibe, wishing Gar was there to tell me how it had been.
We pulled in to the chalet lot and there was my beloved Pacific ocean. Sunny, warm air, the salty scent. Wow, no one ever told me the beaches in the Bay Urea were so wonderful and tropical!!!
“I’ve never actually swam in the Bay Urea” I mumbled as I got out of the car and started towards the highway.
“Uhhh, beast” mumbled Judy, and Henry as Bryan, who was sober and knows me least, gave me the wide eyed look of incredible strangeness and worry.
I walked straight across the highway without looking back. I felt, well, driven to jump in the ocean. I worried that if I stopped or looked back I’d put it off. Gar wasn’t one for looking back.
Walking past the boardwalk there was a homeless man standing on the wall man screaming what sounded like a testimonial to the path of righteousness. About that time I remembered I had over $200 in cash in my wallet and was about to go swimming alone. I walked, stumbled, beelined, past several groups of folks. I decided the last group I passed before the water were the ones I’d ask to watch my clothes. A nice couple, about my age, I feel sorry for them. I had a beer in my hand, I have no idea where I got it. I was wearing an aloha style shirt with Superman prints all over it, my teeshirt was a Humboldt Buds shirt form 1978 complete with an appropriate picture, my clothes are wrinkled and my eyes must have been blood red from the alcohol, sticking my head out the window of the car, and crying. I wasn’t in the mood for banter, anyway.
“Hi, I’m at a funeral. I’m down from Humboldt and I have never swam in the Bay Area, would you mind watching my clothes, it would mean a lot to me,” and I began to take off my clothes.
“Um, sure” mumbled the nice man as he glanced at my beer and nudged his wife to the opposite side of his blanket. “Our daughter’s out there. That water’s cold.”
“’Sokay, I’m a surfer from Portland, I can handle it” as I strip off my pants to my boxer-briefs. Brand new, dark blue, grey waistband. Fruit of the Loom. (FTL = for the ladies). At this point I have said I’m at a funeral, from Humboldt, from Portland and that I surf while sipping a beer and taking off my clothes, hmmm. Any thoughts I might not be some kind of freak disappeared from his face when he saw my furry back below my shaved head. To make matters worse, I turned back halfway to the water to take off my wedding ring and tie it to my shoelace.
I hadn’t been in the water in a few months. Babies, the Oregon Country Fair, daughter, pregnant wife, work, I let things that weren’t important keep me from my Pacific. I’d had reports the water in Oregon was unusually warm, dunno if that meant anything for the Bay Urea, but the water was very nice. Shockingly cold as one entered, comfortable when one relaxed. I waded in and dove under some waves. I got out far enough to float. Took a ride, maybe three. I was having a great time, but needed to head back in.
“This’ll be my last wave,” I said as I turned and faced the shore. The wave picked me up and I stroked with my arms. “I need to go see my friends at the bar,” I thought as I reached the top of the wave and started down the small face kicking my left foot to get some speed. As the word “friends” passed through my mind I felt my bracelet stretch, swell and slide of my foot. It slipped away, I had no chance to stop it nor did I try. Losing that anklet was beautiful. I felt as though Gar pulled it from my foot. I still do.
Wet, hairy and cold I staggered up the beach towards my clothes. I saw my clothes-guarders beginning to pack up. “Wow, good timing, looks like they were just leaving and my stuff would have been unguarded” I thought, until I saw the fear in the poor man’s face. I know he was trying to get away from the crazy man. I stammered my anklet story as he grabbed the last of his stuff and ensured at no time was he not between his wife and I. I imagine I cried a bit as I told him my story.
I stood there alone a moment, dripping in the wind. I decided to see if I could find an abandoned fire-pit fire to dry on. I found one that had a single guy standing a few feet from it. I saw his skim board and surf shorts, so I figured he might understand.
“Mind if I dry next to your fire?” I asked as I surveyed him. He was about 5 feet tall, an adult, and he looked more like the Latino gang kids I grew up with than a surfer.
“Um, yeah, whatever,” he grunted in that macho, nonchalant way one should when a hairy, wet, nearly naked stranger asks you a reasonable question. As he turned away from me I saw the tattoo on his arm “R.I.P.” with some design or name under it. I said goodbye to Gar.
I took off my underwear and changed back into my clothes with the sound of people on the boardwalk cheering and screaming “take it all off.” I walked across the highway and dropped my wet, sandy underwear into the trashcan.
Greg “I miss him” BEast
One of the most annoying aspects of my business life is the cold-calling salesperson. Invariably, this person wanders into my office when I am eating, talking on the phone, or in the midst of some important paper or computer work. I have become proficient at blowing them off as politely and quickly as I can.
One day a guy knocks on my office door, and I wave him in. He was directed to my office by one of my associates, who suggested that I was looking for a new messenger service. This was in fact true, as my long-time vendor had shut down his operation. So I ask him to sit down, and we start chatting. It turns out that we are about the same age, with similar interests: sports, women (not necessarily in that order), booze, recreational drugs, and not working any harder than we absolutely have to.
At some point, I asked him a question about his messenger service, and he gave me the glazed look of someone who had checked out of the conversation. Returning to the present, he said “I’m sorry, I went to a birthday party yesterday (this was a Monday), and I’m a little burned out”. When I asked about the party, he says “it was wild. Started in the afternoon, all kinds of food, keg of beer, spiked banana bread, live music and other entertainment, and a fire on the beach after dark”.
“Sounds like a gas”, I said. “Where was it?” “Near my home, in Half Moon Bay”. “Oh”, I said, “a good friend of mine lives in Half Moon Bay. I doubt that you know him, but his name is Gar Wynne”. “You’re kidding”, says Rick Carlson. “That’s whose birthday party I went to”.
And that’s how I found a new messenger service.
GARMA, PART II
I walked over to Tony Passanisi at the Grove to thank him for all the good work he did on Gar’s behalf in the course of his last days. In the spirit of the occasion, I was wearing the only tie dye shirt that I have in my wardrobe. It was designed by one of the Grateful Dead’s artists to benefit the 1992 Lithuanian national basketball team. They had qualified for the Barcelona Olympics, but had no money.
Before I could get a word out of my mouth, Passanisi says “hey, you know that shirt you’re wearing? There’s a guy at this party who was part of the team that worked on that shirt.” And he calls over Tom Stack, an SI/Sunset boy who was the marketing manager for that campaign, and he told me the whole back story of the shirt I was wearing.
Is there anybody in Northern California that Gar did not know?
Check out todays Examiner (9-1-07).
Ken Garcia’s column on page 10 titled:
“FAREWELL TO A GOOD MAN AND A TRUE SAN FRANCISCO ORIGINAL”
There’s a lunar eclipse coming your way tonight (well early Tuesday morning) and it has Gar written all over it.
The total eclipse is centered over the Pacific near
Hawaii so the west coast will get a great view (unless the fog rolls in) with the moon totally eclipsed for 90 minutes- Here are some details from Space.com:
The Moon enters the umbra at 4:51 a.m. EDT (1:51 a.m. PDT). Totality begins at 5:32 EDT (2:52 PDT) and ends after sunrise on the East coast and at 4:22 a.m. PDT.
www.space.com/spacewatch/070824_ns_eclipse.html
This eclipse comes three weeks to the night after of Gar’s passing and the totality ends at almost exactly 4:20am
Now I figure all of us who have ever stayed up partying with Gar till 4:20 am (and who wouldn’t that be?) ought to be up in our back yards watching the eclipse, enjoying the show and thinking about the big guy.The Tibetans believe that the spirit remains in the Bardow- between the worlds- for about 40 days before moving on. The Native Americans watched the sky with trepidation when eclipses happen and celebrate the return of the light. So at 4:20 tomorrow morning when you see the first light of the sun shining back on the moon, It just might be Gar’s tail lights zooming off into the fargonosphere…
So Whoop it up! - Wake up the neighbors
Celebrate how lucky you were to have known Gar
Celebrate all of our friends who remain in the light
Celebrate just for the hell of it
Yell: THANK YOU GAR!!!
As a Kindergarten teacher, one of my favorite CD’s to play in the classroom is : Dog Train: Rock and Roll. The #1 hit on this C.D. is a song called “No, no, no, I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna”. It’s been playing in my head all damn day because I really, REALLY, do not want to attend on the 30-th. Everything in my heart is screaming that I must—-the “me” that has to keep shit together shouts, “Stay home”. Then I see in my heart my friends, new and old, that have loved Gar and will be there with comfort and love(and probably tie-dye). I’ll see ya all there, Love Kat
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