Dear Mr. Bones;
I sat down with my late Grandmother when she turned the ripe old age of 98 and had what turned out to be the last chat I was to ever have with her. She passed a few months after that. Having lived nearly a century I was hoping she would give me an overview of what it was like to have seen all the wonders of the 20th century. To put it into perspective, when she was born most folks were still struggling to have electricity, running water, and proper toilet facilities. The main form of transportation came from the railroad or a horse. What she witnessed must have been amazing over her time.
Yet instead of waxing on about technological advances, what she talked about mostly were the people she had met or known over a century of existence. For her, and its beginning to ring true to me today, what begins to happen to you as you age is that the folks who are friends and close acquaintances around you slowly pass and become only memories. In short, it’s the people you have known or ever will know that make up the real defining moment of one’s lifetime. The longer you live then, memories are all you end up with because most everyone else over time is gone.
I joined the Amazing Ribs family in the late summer of 2017. At the time I was very interested in upping my barbecue game and learning how I could best share my knowledge with others. Cooking is a hobby and a passion and getting to know like minded people was my goal. What I didn’t realize was that over time those who began as imaginary people in my computer soon became my internet friends. It’s also been pleasurable to have had the opportunity to meet a few of them in person. And what makes these internet friends special is the fact that they are from all walks of life, from all parts of this country and to a large degree the rest of the world. What keeps us together is that same love and passion for cooking that drew me here in the first place.
Now having said all that, of the dozens of people who have come and gone over the four and a half years of being here a few have come along who are special. Dan Johnston comes to mind. Always a character and always a timely comment or post. And then there’s you my friend, Mr. Bones!!
Where does one start? With your hillbilly persona, your love of music, a passion for all things Weber kettle and your dry sense of humor all made you instantly loveable to all of us. When most everyone was pretty much ignoring me as a newbie back when I joined, you were quick to send me a welcoming PM and continued to encourage my recipe and cooking posts.
As far as music was concerned you and I were on the same wavelength. From the blues, rock-a-billy, blue grass, 60’s rock, or country, all seemed to be in your repertoire. Here’s your final entry to Share the Music just a couple of weeks ago, a blues extravaganza;
And of course, you were no stranger to picking up an axe and strumming out a tune or two;
We all know how much you loved rescuing those poor old Weber kettles. Like lost puppy dogs you felt it your mission to collect, resurrect and provide all manner of information about that George Steven’s ubiquitous invention. Here we are in the "Bone’s Yard" with a brief glimpse of the collection that you never seemed to complete;
Oh, and I mentioned your dry humor. I always considered that a bit of a hidden trait in your character. I nearly split a gut at the famous Can of Corn saga. How you came up with that gem I’ll never know. I was so enthralled with the whole thing that I came up with a Photo Shop image that captured the essence of your mysterious but down right hilarious experience;
I realize too my friend that you had some demons. Much of that had to do with your time in the military. We both shared a love for all things involving military equipment, armament, aircraft, etc. I’ll miss sharing stories about all that with you, especially from World War II.
But what I’ll miss most is that sweet disposition you possessed. In all the time I came to know you I can’t think of one time you had a cross word with or for anyone, period. You were always there with a positive attitude, a greeting, to cheer someone on or to just be thoughtful. Hell, I’d often times open up my messages and find eight or ten from you just liking everything I posted the day before, even when most of those weren’t even worth liking.
Some day soon, when I’m sitting in a rocker on some porch like Grandma I’ll remember back on all the folks I ever knew. Most will probably have preceded me and are only distant memories, that’s all that’s left you. In that day I will certainly think back on you my friend, as the kind and gentle soul you were. May you find the peace that may have eluded you in this life. Maybe someday, around the giant Weber kettle in the sky, we can laugh about old AR times and the characters we have encountered in this life. I shall not forget to tuck your memory away in a special place my friend. So long for now.
Trout
I sat down with my late Grandmother when she turned the ripe old age of 98 and had what turned out to be the last chat I was to ever have with her. She passed a few months after that. Having lived nearly a century I was hoping she would give me an overview of what it was like to have seen all the wonders of the 20th century. To put it into perspective, when she was born most folks were still struggling to have electricity, running water, and proper toilet facilities. The main form of transportation came from the railroad or a horse. What she witnessed must have been amazing over her time.
Yet instead of waxing on about technological advances, what she talked about mostly were the people she had met or known over a century of existence. For her, and its beginning to ring true to me today, what begins to happen to you as you age is that the folks who are friends and close acquaintances around you slowly pass and become only memories. In short, it’s the people you have known or ever will know that make up the real defining moment of one’s lifetime. The longer you live then, memories are all you end up with because most everyone else over time is gone.
I joined the Amazing Ribs family in the late summer of 2017. At the time I was very interested in upping my barbecue game and learning how I could best share my knowledge with others. Cooking is a hobby and a passion and getting to know like minded people was my goal. What I didn’t realize was that over time those who began as imaginary people in my computer soon became my internet friends. It’s also been pleasurable to have had the opportunity to meet a few of them in person. And what makes these internet friends special is the fact that they are from all walks of life, from all parts of this country and to a large degree the rest of the world. What keeps us together is that same love and passion for cooking that drew me here in the first place.
Now having said all that, of the dozens of people who have come and gone over the four and a half years of being here a few have come along who are special. Dan Johnston comes to mind. Always a character and always a timely comment or post. And then there’s you my friend, Mr. Bones!!
Where does one start? With your hillbilly persona, your love of music, a passion for all things Weber kettle and your dry sense of humor all made you instantly loveable to all of us. When most everyone was pretty much ignoring me as a newbie back when I joined, you were quick to send me a welcoming PM and continued to encourage my recipe and cooking posts.
As far as music was concerned you and I were on the same wavelength. From the blues, rock-a-billy, blue grass, 60’s rock, or country, all seemed to be in your repertoire. Here’s your final entry to Share the Music just a couple of weeks ago, a blues extravaganza;
And of course, you were no stranger to picking up an axe and strumming out a tune or two;
We all know how much you loved rescuing those poor old Weber kettles. Like lost puppy dogs you felt it your mission to collect, resurrect and provide all manner of information about that George Steven’s ubiquitous invention. Here we are in the "Bone’s Yard" with a brief glimpse of the collection that you never seemed to complete;
Oh, and I mentioned your dry humor. I always considered that a bit of a hidden trait in your character. I nearly split a gut at the famous Can of Corn saga. How you came up with that gem I’ll never know. I was so enthralled with the whole thing that I came up with a Photo Shop image that captured the essence of your mysterious but down right hilarious experience;
I realize too my friend that you had some demons. Much of that had to do with your time in the military. We both shared a love for all things involving military equipment, armament, aircraft, etc. I’ll miss sharing stories about all that with you, especially from World War II.
But what I’ll miss most is that sweet disposition you possessed. In all the time I came to know you I can’t think of one time you had a cross word with or for anyone, period. You were always there with a positive attitude, a greeting, to cheer someone on or to just be thoughtful. Hell, I’d often times open up my messages and find eight or ten from you just liking everything I posted the day before, even when most of those weren’t even worth liking.
Some day soon, when I’m sitting in a rocker on some porch like Grandma I’ll remember back on all the folks I ever knew. Most will probably have preceded me and are only distant memories, that’s all that’s left you. In that day I will certainly think back on you my friend, as the kind and gentle soul you were. May you find the peace that may have eluded you in this life. Maybe someday, around the giant Weber kettle in the sky, we can laugh about old AR times and the characters we have encountered in this life. I shall not forget to tuck your memory away in a special place my friend. So long for now.
Trout
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