Remembrances of Friends Past…

04 May, 2004
Posted at 21.32 PDT

It’s always startling to hear that someone you know has died, an unwelcome reminder that nothing lasts forever. I just learned this evening that a man with whom I used to work passed away last night in his sleep—at far too young an age, and now details and memories I’d long forgotten are coming back to me in that curious way the knowledge of a friend’s death causes one to remember.

Thom Butler was one of the most genuinely nice people I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. We worked together back when I tended bar at the Kit Kat Club in Orlando, Florida, and he was always fun to be around. A little too fun, sometimes, but that’s hard to hold against him. We were never particularly close, but he had a way of greeting his friends that always made me forget that. He had the rare ability to always make you feel he was glad to see you, no matter how tired or frustrated he might be.

I remember the times after closing he’d take me for rides in the sidecar of his immaculately restored Moto Guzzi. Zipping down a highway at 60 MPH at three in the morning , 6 inches from the pavement is a sure means of having fun, especially when you blow by semis and other large trucks. I’ll never forget those nights, or the care he took in restoring motorcycles, or his awe-inspiring encyclopedic knowledge of them.

I remember too him speaking of his then fiancé Sandrine. Oddly enough, I never had the privilege of meeting her in person—our paths had diverged at that point—but I can say without reservation he was head over heels in love with her in a way I will always envy.

Other little memories pop to mind too, like the time he helped me move a sofa into my apartment in College Park, and refused any compensation—not even beer! He even helped me get rid of the old sofa. (Thanks again for getting it out of my sight Thom!) The Shriner’s Nightmare® eventually wound up in his bar, and ended its days in the Bodhissatva Club’s upstairs lounge. While I may not have had much chance to visit the old sofa at his bar, having since moved to Seattle, it’s oddly pleasing to have contributed something to him, however fleeting and insignificant.

Anyone who remembers him tending bar at Go Lounge should recall his penchant for spanking the patrons and getting naked at the drop of a hat—two qualities for which I have only the utmost admiration—and I’m sure he gave full vent to his behaviors at the Bodhissatva as well. The world will be a grayer place without you Thom.

His death comes as no great surprise, sadly. He always lived a bit too far on the edge for someone with the health issues he’d had, and would be the first to admit it. He survived a devastating motorcycle accident years ago which nearly left him permanently paralyzed, and I always thought he considered every day after to be living on borrowed time, though I can’t claim to have known him well enough to say for certain—it’s just an impression I always received. Besides, the heart attack he had years ago served as a reminder of mortality, and I admire his resolute refusal to compromise his life despite the traitorous failings of his body. We should all be so brave.

At any rate Thom, wherever you may be, I know I’m not the only man who considers himself lucky to have known you, and while I may be 3000 miles from Orlando, I still wish I could have hung out with you one last time.

A year ago this past March I visited central Florida to see my father just before he died, and I still remember sitting with Thom in his bar. We barely spoke of the subject, but the look he gave me at that moment still sticks with me. In a single moment he conveyed to me that he KNEW what it was like. And I knew I wasn’t alone.

I think Thom Butler must have been the most down-to-earth hell-raiser I’ve ever known. And anyone who can combine two such disparate tendencies is good in my book.

Peace.

-Doug

 

 

Ramblings | Permanent Link