March 12, 2008
Originally published July 18, 2003
I'm going to Charleston, South Carolina tomorrow to rekindle a relationship with a friend that I have not seen in 25 years. (No, you lust-crazed assholes, it's NOT a woman.) His name is Ken and he has a PhD in Marine Biology. I met him when he did reasearch at the Skidaway Island Institute of Oceanography here in Savannah back in the 1970's. He and his group of scientists were some of my regular bar patrons when I played guitar for a living.
How a semi-hippie guitar-player and a Doctor of Marine Science became good friends back in those days would take a longer post than I want to write to explain. Just trust me on this: It Happened. But he moved onward and upward as time passed. He moved to Maryland, and I lost track of him.
Ken is one of the most interesting people I've met in my life. He has many stories to tell and they are both baroque and bizantine, plus fascinating besides. If I could remember how to spell, I would call him what I believe him to be, which I know is totally incorrect spelling: a "Renaissance Man."
I always aspired to be that which I cannot spell.
I am more of a "recessive gene" kind of guy.
I am going to see him tomorrow, whether I can spell or not.
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