Thursday, August 12, 2010

Jimmy

    Where to begin? I first met Jimmy at the local eatery with James (remember James of the Rose and James Show?). I was new and a newlywed to Burnet and always willing to meet someone new. Jimmy and Cindy lived out at Lake Victor and he was a mechanic at the local Dodge house.
    Now calling Jimmy a mechanic is like calling a surgeon a butcher. Jimmy was a master mechanic, and if it ran a fossil fuel he could fix it. Now this is not to say that he kept all his rolling stock in top condition, cause Jimmy's place looked like a car lot but you never new which vehicle would get you to work the next day. There was all manner of vehicles at any given time out at Jim's. Old church buses, bread trucks converted to Hippie Vans, motor homes, motorcycles, sports cars, old cars and new cars.
    When Jim and Cindy moved to the Wilson Ranch, he found an old Simplex motorbike. Now this thing had been in the barn for God knew how long, probably 30 - 40 years. It was partially disassembled and rotted out in other parts. Jim started farting around with the motor, cleaning, oiling, polishing, and generally checking to see if everything was there. Alas, one of the side plates was missing for the crankcase, but that didn't stop Jim. Before long he took the lid from a can of Christmas cookies had it cut to size, punched holes for the bolts and strapped that new side plate on the motor. Mounted that motor on  his workbench and started to sweat and pull and swear over that motorbike motor. Damn if that thing didn't start for the first time in over 30+ years. It was funny too, in that it was a two stroke and every stroke that cookie tin would flex in and out depending on the stroke.
    Jimmy was my adventure buddy down in the Hill Country. Whether water-skiing, climbing Bee's Bluff, motorcycle riding, hunting, or any other type of manventure Jim was usually up for it. We almost died together on the Rio Grande going through Tight Squeeze Rapids when the river was 5 feet ABOVE flood stage. We scouted the rapid, had our line all figured on how we were going to run it, and that rapid had a five foot haystack (read standing wave) that sucked us into it and spit us out like watermelon seeds on the downstream side. Canoe, paddles, food, and general sundry gear was washing on downstream when Jim and I pulled the canoe up to a beach on the Mexican side of the river. We were both spent and I was thanking Jesus for saving us when Jim pulled a bucket up and said, "Well I at least I saved the food!" and on opening there was some of his dry clothes not food in the bucket.
     Jimmy like myself was a water based creature. In other words if there was a standing body of water, river, rope swing or dam slide he was ready to become "one with mother nature". It seems like he was showing me a new adventure at some water feature. For those of you that follow my other blog 'texasswimminholes.blogspot.com' you will be reading of places that Jimmy showed and shared with me. Ingram's Dam, Camp Allison on the North Llano, the whirlpool on San Saba river outside of Menard. The rope swing at the river crossing on the Medina River, the spring fed stock tank at Wilson Ranch, and all manner of places on Lake Buchanan.
    Once while Cindy and Jim were trading places after Jim had finished a ski run down by Buchanan Dam I had to bend over  to get the rope out from under the boat motor. Cindy was patiently waiting in clear and deep water next to the dam when I spotted (no lie!) a six foot long needle nose gar swim past her submerged feet. I murmured something to Jim about Cindy walking on water if she saw what I saw, and she overheard me and wanted to know what I just said. I told her it was best if we just started skiing.
    Easily, one of the best things about Jimmy was his plethora of friends. Having been a PK (read preachers kid) he had traveled throughout South Texas as his dad was a Methodist preacher. He remained in contact with folks from school in Austin, Harlingen, Sonora to name but a few. We would all get together regularly to play cards, drink beer, shoot guns, ride motorcycles, and of course there was the annual reunion at Westock. That is a subject for a whole blog to itself, that is Weststock.
    Jimmy and Cindy were my life preserver when I faced the loss of my home and wife to divorce. I know their grocery bill probably went up at least a fourth for a few years after December 1983. On their back porch I learned how to play 99. Only the God Lord knows how many people I have passed that on to in all these years. Mexican Train dominoes was another game that we played for countless hours whether at their home, in a tent, or some beach facing a lake or river.
    For years Jim tried to get me to go to the Kerrville Folk Festival, and I shined him on cause I just imagined some kind of Willie Nelson drunken orgy. He kept telling me I had it all figured wrong and somewhere around 1986 I started attending the Folk Festival and to this day I have life-long memories of musicians and family and friends that I will treasure forever.
    Tragically my own destiny would inalterbly change our relationship forever. As the years went by my drinking and my drugging took over my life. I had to go off to rehab to detox and straighten my thinking out. I'd already run off a wife and was at the point where I was self-will run riot. When I came out of the hospital I had to make a lot of hard choices. You see, I had to change everything in my life including my playgrounds, playthings, and playmates.
     I'll never forget that Saturday morning after I got back from the hospital. Jimmy called and wanted to see me after being gone those 30+ days. Folks talk and kid about a thing called a 'bromance' and that  was what Jimmy and I had. We had connected a lot over those 11 years. My ex and I were a part of his family and I went on to remain part of that family after Susie moved on. Cindy was my sister and the boys were my nephews. Jimmy and I were both scared and he asked, "what was going to happen to 'us'". I remember answering and looking at him and realized that we both had tears running down our faces, "I don't know Jimmy, I really don't know." And we sat there quietly in each others company not knowing what the future held. I did know in my heart that things were never to be the same between us.
    I never did have closure with Jim. I moved to Amarillo and started a new life there. When possible, I bring my wife and family to Burnet, but was unable to ever to renew the bond we once had. When I learned of Jim's passing, there was a great regret in my heart for lost opportunities in our relationship. I realize that they were not all on my side of the street, but the regrets remain. I miss Jim to this day, and I can truly say that the relationship we had was unique, and I will never have another 'bromance' like ours.

1 comment:

  1. I scarcely comment on blogs written by those I know and it's even more rare that I comment on one written by a total stranger. However, I thought I might just this once.

    My favorite memory of my Uncle Jimmy is a bit of a funny one. When I was younger, my family and I would go visit Jimmy, Cindy, Ty and Clay at the Lake house. The south wall of the living room had 5 or 6 milk crates, laid end on end, filed with more back issues of playboy than my mind, knee-deep-in-pubescence, could comprehend. I spent more than a few nights sneaking into that living room for peeks at those prohibited magazines!

    I'll always love and appreciate the unabashed, unapologetic way he stored those magazines. Maybe he did it for my benefit, but probably not, it doesn't matter.

    It was that cavalier attitude toward material that was previously so taboo to me that was worth appreciating. It's the same cavalier attitude he carried over into other aspects of his life. He shaped my youth through the power of pornography and I'll always remember him for that.


    As a post script, I'll certainly remember him for shaping my life in other ways, though most aren't as comical as this particular playboy anecdote.


    Sincerely,
    Andy Brack

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