Here is an entry from one of my old sites:
10.13.03 – I just returned from a punk rock concert featuring the Dwarves. I am tired. It’s funny how exhaustion brings out the the creative and reflective in me. I seen old friends of mine that I haven’t seen in 6 or so years. From another time, another place. Old love interests-Or perhaps it was only I that was really interested. Heh…
We talked of how rocky our lives have been since we had last seen each other. How we’ve grown. I’m happy to find that they’re doing well. They’ve gone on with their lives, and have been or are proving
to be successfull. I suppose this log is unworthy of true sentiment as I won’t give details, as usual. I guess all I can say is that growing up is hard to do. It takes true determination to deal with all the follies and even the jollies. When you fall, you don’t just get up-You have to stand up before the 10 count, and be ready to fight on. I didn’t hear any bell.
I’m a little cloudy on the exact date as I’ve kind of repressed the subject (hell, I may even have the year wrong)-But I believe a week later, or at least around that time-It was found that a co-worker of mine from Streetlight Records, Tom (who also went by cowskabs, the mighty testicles, or the drunken master) had committed suicide by consuming rat poison.
That show was the last time I had seen him. I drove him to it. On the way, he mentioned that he was now officially on vacation from work. I asked him what he planned to do, and he said he was basically just going to drink and write poetry and rest.
We met up with his friends, then I ran into my old friends and hung out with them. I seen him periodically during the bands sets doing some crazy punk dances, just all smiles having a good time. By the time the show ended, I couldn’t find him. Figured he just took off with his buddies, plus he lived nearby anyway. So I just left. Didn’t think much of it. He’s a big boy, right?
Well as I said, he …died.
I’ve since regretted the fact that I didn’t try harder to find him after the show. You can play all these hypothetical situations in your head on what could have been IF. I do sometimes think if we hung out more that night and afterwards, maybe I could have talked him out of it, or somehow prevented it.
Under that rough metalhead/crustpunk, 5″ mohawk, grizzly beard, badass exterior, he really was a very sensitive guy. He was a cutter, had some very visible self inflicted scars. That’s an obvious sign of suicide in itself aside from him talking about suicide once in awhile. You didn’t really take it all so seriously either. He was happy-go-lucky, usually quite charming, a truly fun character. Always made ya laugh somehow.
I remember one story he told me about how he was at an IN-N-Out burger drive-in. While placing an order he says he fell in love with the tellers voice. While waiting for his turn to get to the window, he wrote her a poem saying how easily it was to fall in love her just by hearing her speak. He didn’t say if her reaction was of elation or horror, but he said she was so distracted that she gave him the wrong order, and basically made everyone behind his car wait an additional few minutes.
Of course there were those dark times. Some days while at work, you might ask him a question or to do some random task and “Whatever. We should all just kill ourselves.” he would say.
He had his share of problems, and I won’t get into any specifics, but I imagine those problems resulted in him drinking quite a bit. Drink and forget. Maybe that’s why he was so jovial at one moment, and ridiculously negative the next.
I’m not here to make any point on drinking. Just want to say I was thinking about Tom today. He had a lot qualities I wish I had. He was the charmer, the life of the party, a poet, a drummer, and absolutely fearless. I miss him.
Surely the mighty testicles is rockin’ out right now somewhere in the netherworld …at peace (or whatever he’d call it).