in santa cruz i had a friend at work, he was even a bigger geek than me. We would talk whenever we had time--and sometimes when we didn't--about the various versions of Dune, art, music, all sorts of crazy books no one else had heard of before.

his desk area was surrounded, protected, by shelves full of a magnificent collection of Godzillas and other monsters, robots and super heros.

he left work due to health reasons--or, as i teased, to play WOW more--awaiting a transplant, just before i moved home to modesto.

things didn't go well, surgery after surgery. And then i got an email a few days ago saying he was coming home from the hospital, hospice care, nothing they could do. I sent an email to his wife to be read to him...a light, brief, reminiscent email talking about monsters and Dune and chatting instead of working. I asked him if he needed any comics. I heard he enjoyed the email, and i'm glad, and i hope he knew what i really meant, that i think it really sucks, that this great, talented, loving guy could struggle and struggle and waste away. i think it a fine thing he could be at home with his family for his last couple of days.

Mark Gordon


so i'm here at work, listening to Cory Doctorow's podcast reading of The Hacker Crackdown, working on organizing some newsletter files--reminds me of organizing magazine files--and preparing to convert our printed newsletter into an html version.

then i'll spend a few hours in the studio shooting shirts.

anyways, feeling good, confident--smart even. And then...and then...my coffee hit that perfect temperature...you know that point, were suddenly it isn't too hot, it isn't lukewarm, just perfectly hot and drinkable and perfect.

made my day. And it is early yet.