I keep saving messages. My home directory on Panix is full of files called rob.by.jess and rob.by.jim and rob.by.mara. Et cetera. I guess it helps.
Rob and I weren't exactly friends, but we were a bit more than net.acquaintances. We exchanged Rosh Hashanah and Passover e-cards, and the occasional e-mail. He was the first motsseur I met in person (well, okay, this was 30 seconds before I met everyone else, but that cowboy hat made him easy to identify while walking to the rainbow-festooned picnic area in Golden Gate Park). One of my favorite memories of that first motss.con was standing on the sidelines, watching Rob and Jess standing on the sidelines, making random observations and cracking each other up.
Much to my great joy, a cancelled, re-scheduled, re-re-scheduled, and re-arranged camping trip to Northern California last summer found me driving home through Concord just as one of those famous barbecues was happening. At the time, I thought it was terrific to see Rob in situ, and a lovely site it was, too. Now, it's an especially precious memory.
I'm afraid this was more about me than about Rob. I wish I could've known him better. I wish I still could.
Alav ha'shalom.
