Dissociated Thoughts

Remembering Zen

Post 1 of 8 for June "Journalistic Intentions" 
Prompt: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

         Zen came into my life when I most needed a friend, and wanted one the least. I had given up on the world, on myself, on my life. I hated everyone and everything. But into my life strolled this quick witted dude with a sense of humor that matched mine and it drew us to one another immediately. The beginnings of a beautiful friendship. The more we conversed, the more we found we had in common. While there are a lot of nerd-geeks in the world, not all of them are into Star Wars, Star Trek, art, nature, astronomy, Volkswagens....and Pinky and the Brain. (And disc golf; it's a way of life for those of us who play for more than recreation.) We shared some of the same quirks, same outlooks on the world, wanted to help people even though neither of us could go around people without having a panic attack. If I'm going to be honest, he was there for me more than I was for him, and when he needed me most I couldn't be there for him -- I didn't even know he needed me.

         When I first met Zen he rode a motorcycle around the streets of Seattle if he needed to go somewhere. It was his "newest toy", as he put it. He enjoyed that motorcycle until, as all motorized vehicles tend to from time to time, it needed to be fixed. See, Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance were never able to meet on the same plane. He had completely forgotten to keep up with the maintenance of the little bugger and as such, it broke down. Zen wasn't too heart-broken about it though. That was one of his qualities after all, not placing his whole heart into anyone or anything.

One day, he just calls me up and says, "Hey Jenn, I'm gonna sell the bike."
Being a somewhat practical person, I ask, "So, whacha gonna drive?"
To which he responds, "I still have the Ghia, it's about time I bring her out again. Maybe take a road trip south to visit you and Rox." -- he never was able to make that trip though.

         The Ghia, a 1971 Karmann Ghia, all shiny black with sexy curves, a relic of another time. It was one of his favorite things, along with his telescope, his Star Wars collectible figures, and his pet rats -- named, you guessed it, Pinky and The Brain. When he became ill, he told me he was thinking of selling the Ghia to pay for medical bills. I finally convinced him that he shouldn't sell it because it was one of the only things he loved. Then he was admitted to the hospital again. He never made it out of the hospital that last time to be able to enjoy another road trip. I was told his liver failed and that's what did him in. I suppose his mom did sell the Ghia in the end -- along with all of his other treasured possessions that didn't just get thrown into the garbage because someone didn't know their worth.

         But, Man! was Zen a great friend. He helped me through the transition from looney bin to regular life, he advised me in matters of the heart, he tried his best to get me out of the gloom of depression on many occasion, and he tried to talk me down from many a manic episode. He created art for me. Took pictures he knew would make me smile. Zen was a great man, a caring human. A creative artist and humorous man. A misunderstood man. Most of all, he was my friend and I will always consider him to be one of the best of them. I will forever regret that I didn't get to say goodbye. That day in February 2020, the world lost a beautiful soul and became a little less bright because of it.

Rest in peace my friend Zen.

LeJenD'Poet - Just ME.