This is the collaborative journal of W.C. Chambers and J.R. Bowman. Read. Wonder. Reply. Thanks for stopping by.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005,9:55 PM
Loyd Neighbors: What an interesting Fella
Well, folks here I am.
It’s 10:00 p.m. on the evening of Thursday November 15th of 2005.
I’m sitting here not doing a whole hell of a lot of anything and I was reading a few pages out of a book about a guy I’ve read quite a lot of… His name is Charles Bukowski. Few people know of him and even fewer could actually put up with the guy when he was alive. Bukowski died on March 9th of 1993. That would put me at nearly 11 years old. The point is while I was considering that, and while I was reading things about his life I began to think about things from my past that I’ve come to find strikingly appealing to me. For example:
I went home at some point this past summer and one of my buddies decided that I needed to be introduced to an older gentleman who’d just walked into the diner we were sitting in. So I agree to it and we begin to approach the gentleman. And he was indeed a gentleman and probably the saddest and one of the most intriguing men I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in my short life. He’d obviously been drinking, but soon enough you’ll understand that he had a great reason to do so. My buddy introduced me to him and I kindly put out my hand for him to shake it; when he grasped my hand I could tell that his hand was slightly chilled, which was unusual I thought cause it was a rather warm night. He introduced himself as Neighbors, Loyd Neighbors. He was wearing a suit and there was a slight ting of alcohol on his breathe. He had a dull shine to his soulful blue eyes that reluctantly screamed of sorrow and sadness, he had a warming smile and a hand of ice. As we began to have a conversation he chose the topic of Life, he jumped right into it without hesitation. He wanted very much for me to understand how beautiful life was and how I should make the most of it.
”Do you have a girlfriend?” he asked.
I smirked and answered with a tiresome “No”
Loyd and I continued to converse about life and what a jewel it is and how I as a young man should understand what a blessing it is and how I should use my youthfulness to my advantage. He encouraged the idea of finding someone to share my life with but only as long as it wouldn’t interfere with my freedom and duty as a young man to go out and see the beauty of world.
“Use everyday to it’s fullest” he encouraged.
I’m glad that I was sincerely listening to what he had to say and not just brushing it off as drunk speak. I could tell he wasn’t that drunk he was just buzzed and feeling good. He was currently drinking a cup of coffee as we sat together at the bar of the diner. He never once wished to speak of his own life, wife, children, siblings or parents. But considering that he is 60 something years old, I can only assume that his parents are long gone. I certainly hope that he has siblings or someone in his life to comfort him but my guess is as good as yours on that one. However, considering that he was in a diner at nearly 1a.m. on a Wednesday night I can only assume that he has none of the above. Even though I sincerely hope that he does have a family of his own somewhere, someone in his life to speak of, even if he didn’t wish to do so that night with me.
After our pleasant conversation was over, I felt glad to have met Loyd Neighbors that evening. I’d like to speak with him again someday. Perhaps find out if he does have a family of any kind or not. I enjoyed what he had to say and I’ll never forget it. Especially after learning one thing about the man who wouldn’t speak of himself.
As my buddy and I were leaving. My buddy informed me that Loyd was the mortician for a local mortuary. That made me love and respect Loyd even more then I had previously. How incredibly noble and appropriate for a man who prepares the dead for burial to also feel the need to prepare others for life. May God be gracious with his soul.
P.S. I’d like to think that there’d be hundreds of people at that man’s funeral. I know I’d like to be there.
It’s 10:00 p.m. on the evening of Thursday November 15th of 2005.
I’m sitting here not doing a whole hell of a lot of anything and I was reading a few pages out of a book about a guy I’ve read quite a lot of… His name is Charles Bukowski. Few people know of him and even fewer could actually put up with the guy when he was alive. Bukowski died on March 9th of 1993. That would put me at nearly 11 years old. The point is while I was considering that, and while I was reading things about his life I began to think about things from my past that I’ve come to find strikingly appealing to me. For example:
I went home at some point this past summer and one of my buddies decided that I needed to be introduced to an older gentleman who’d just walked into the diner we were sitting in. So I agree to it and we begin to approach the gentleman. And he was indeed a gentleman and probably the saddest and one of the most intriguing men I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in my short life. He’d obviously been drinking, but soon enough you’ll understand that he had a great reason to do so. My buddy introduced me to him and I kindly put out my hand for him to shake it; when he grasped my hand I could tell that his hand was slightly chilled, which was unusual I thought cause it was a rather warm night. He introduced himself as Neighbors, Loyd Neighbors. He was wearing a suit and there was a slight ting of alcohol on his breathe. He had a dull shine to his soulful blue eyes that reluctantly screamed of sorrow and sadness, he had a warming smile and a hand of ice. As we began to have a conversation he chose the topic of Life, he jumped right into it without hesitation. He wanted very much for me to understand how beautiful life was and how I should make the most of it.
”Do you have a girlfriend?” he asked.
I smirked and answered with a tiresome “No”
Loyd and I continued to converse about life and what a jewel it is and how I as a young man should understand what a blessing it is and how I should use my youthfulness to my advantage. He encouraged the idea of finding someone to share my life with but only as long as it wouldn’t interfere with my freedom and duty as a young man to go out and see the beauty of world.
“Use everyday to it’s fullest” he encouraged.
I’m glad that I was sincerely listening to what he had to say and not just brushing it off as drunk speak. I could tell he wasn’t that drunk he was just buzzed and feeling good. He was currently drinking a cup of coffee as we sat together at the bar of the diner. He never once wished to speak of his own life, wife, children, siblings or parents. But considering that he is 60 something years old, I can only assume that his parents are long gone. I certainly hope that he has siblings or someone in his life to comfort him but my guess is as good as yours on that one. However, considering that he was in a diner at nearly 1a.m. on a Wednesday night I can only assume that he has none of the above. Even though I sincerely hope that he does have a family of his own somewhere, someone in his life to speak of, even if he didn’t wish to do so that night with me.
After our pleasant conversation was over, I felt glad to have met Loyd Neighbors that evening. I’d like to speak with him again someday. Perhaps find out if he does have a family of any kind or not. I enjoyed what he had to say and I’ll never forget it. Especially after learning one thing about the man who wouldn’t speak of himself.
As my buddy and I were leaving. My buddy informed me that Loyd was the mortician for a local mortuary. That made me love and respect Loyd even more then I had previously. How incredibly noble and appropriate for a man who prepares the dead for burial to also feel the need to prepare others for life. May God be gracious with his soul.
P.S. I’d like to think that there’d be hundreds of people at that man’s funeral. I know I’d like to be there.
