ROB KENT....A NIGHTOWL; DEPENDABLE; QUIET AND ENIGMATIC; RESPECTFUL;
INTELLIGENT; WELL-READ; A CO-WORKER; A FAIR-TO-MIDDLIN'DANCER; A GENTLE MAN.
TO ENTER "ROB'S WORLD" OF NIGHTTIME IN THE TAVERN WAS LIKE TRESPASSING INTO SOMEONE'S EXCLUSIVE REALM. HE SEEMED TO GRUDGINGLY TOLERATE THE INTRUSION BUT DID NOT LET THAT INTERFERE WITH HIS WORK OR
HIS "RITUALS". HE SPOKE ONLY WHEN NECESSARY AND DID NOT WELCOME IDLE CHATTER OR GOSSIP.
HIS NIGHTLY "RITUALS" ALWAYS STARTED WITH TURNING OFF THE MUSIC AND CRANKING THE TV TO A VOLUME THAT MUST HAVE BEEN HEARD ACROSS THE HARBOR! HE HAD HIS FAVORITE WIERD SHOWS THAT "DAY-TIME PEOPLE" PROBABLY HAVE NEVER HEARD OF. HE ALWAYS MADE HIMSELF A SANDWICH FROM WHATEVER HE COULD SCROUNGE FROM THE KITCHEN, AND HE ALWAYS KNEW WHERE THE PEANUT BUTTER AND JAMS WERE!
THEN CAME WHATEVER "POTION" HE DRANK....HE METHODICALLY STACKED MANY PACKETS OF SUGAR WHICH, ONE-BY-ONE, HE'D CUT OPEN PRECISELY WITH A SCISSORS AND THEN DUMP INTO A GLASS. (IT WAS NOT A PRETTY SIGHT WHEN HE HAD TO HUNT HIGH AND LOW FOR THE SCISSORS!! HE WOULD NOT TEAR THE PACKETS!)
AS MUCH AS HE LOVED TO READ HE ALSO LOVED HIS CIGARETTES. (ONE ALWAYS ACCOMPANIED THE OTHER!) ONCE THE TIDES DECLARED IT WAS A SMOKE-FREE
ESTABLISHMENT IT PUT A CRIMP IN ROB'S "RITUALS", SO, I BELIEVE HE GRANTED HIMSELF A SORT OF "IMMUNITY" FROM THE POLICY BY SMOKING IN THE
MEN'S ROOM, WHICH WAS, OBVIOUSLY, NOT A TAVERN! (AND,YES,THE BOOK
WENT ALONG TOO.)
YOU'D RARELY SEE ROB UPSET...THAT IS, UNLESS YOU MOVED HIS TOOLS OR HIS WORKCLOTHES! UNDER THOSE CIRCUMSTANCES ROB'S "CODE OF SILENCE" WAS BROKEN TO THE POINT WHERE ONLY A SEASONED SAILOR MIGHT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO INTERPRET WHAT HE WAS SAYING!! (SORRY, ROB. THOSE COVERALLS
HAD TO GO! THE SERVERS WERE SURE SOMETHING HAD DIED IN THE LOWER STORAGE ROOM!) :O)
BACK WHEN THERE WERE STILL PULL-TABS IN THE TAVERN ROB PLAYED THEM EVERY DAY. HE WAS SO LUCKY THAT A COUPLE OF US WOULD GIVE HIM MONEY AND TELL HIM WE'D SPLIT IF HE GOT A WINNER. AND DARNED IF HE DIDN'T GET A WINNER!! WE'D BE CHEERING LIKE HE HIT A HOME RUN!!
ROB USUALLY WORE THE SAME "UNIFORM": A BASEBALL CAP THAT LOOKED AS THO'IT HAD BEEN FOUND IN THE TRENCHES DURING WWI; A RED AND BLACK CHECKERED HEAVY JACKET; A "CARHART-LIKE" VEST LINED WITH FLEECE; A T-SHIRT (SOME OF THEM FROM THE SAME TRENCH AS THE CAP!) HIS SHOES, WELL, LET'S SAY THAT THEY WERE KIN TO THE COVERALLS! NO WONDER! HE'D
CLOMP THRU' THE MUD AT LOW TIDE TO RETRIEVE SILVERWARE, GLASSES, CREDIT CARDS, AND SOMETIMES A CHAIR FROM THE DECK. (AND LOOK TO SEE IF SOMETHING HAD DIED UNDER THE TAVERN BECAUSE "IT STUNK"!)
YES, HE SURELY LOVED WORKING WITH PLANTS, TREES, AND FLOWERS. EVERY YEAR HE'D LOVINGLY PLANT HIS TINY GARDEN IN THE HOLLOW OF THE PILING
BETWEEN THE DECK AND THE POOLROOM. SOMETIMES HE'D ANNOUNCE WHEN BLOOMS APPEARED. MANY TIMES WE'D CATCH HIM LEANING OVER THE DECK RAILING TO ADMIRE HIS "GARDEN". HE WAS VERY PROUD OF IT.
NONE OF US EVER KNEW OF HIS LIFE AWAY FROM THE TAVERN. HE WAS SUCH A PART OF THE TIDES FOR SO LONG THAT WE JUST TOOK IT FOR GRANTED THAT HE'D ALWAYS BE THERE.
ROB, YOU TOOK US BY SURPRISE! YOU LEFT BEFORE WE HAD A CHANCE TO SAY THANK YOU, AND GOODBYE!! WE MISS YOU, MY FRIEND.
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