the man they called spoke.
i know most of you join me in mourning the passing of our friend spokeshave to the land of the non-NVEI posters.
spoke was a good ole boy. i remember the days of our youth. little spoke running around with that propeller hat spinning like a top on his head and that pocket protector in his shirt. we all knew he'd amount to something one day.
those were the good old days. while the rest of us were running around chasing girls and wasting time in other trivial matters, ole spoke was busy taking apart his mom's coffee maker trying to figure out how it worked.
as the years passed and we moved onto high school ole spoke kept true to his self. he would tell the teacher when her chalk wasn't sharpened at the correct angle, he could notice a spot of rust on a locker from 50 feet. spoke never missed even the smallest of details. he was destined for success.
but now just like puff the magic dragon eventually left little jackie, ole spoke has left us to move onto smaller and more precise details in life. his job here is done.
we should not mourn the passing of our friend, but rather rejoice in the time he shared with us. and as a tribute to all he has given to us i know i will from this day forward read every word of every sentence of every paragraph in every article i come across. and armed with my pocket version of the webster dictionary i shall try and define the meaning of life. it's the least i can do and i owe that much to my buddy.
we will survive my friends. we will move on. and maybe in another life, in another place, we'll look up and there will be ole spoke, his propeller hat still spinning like a top.....
AI
