TIMMY

Timmy and I were fraternity brothers at Duquesne....Sigma Chi's.  About six of us actually became good friends...(I never forgave the guys who hazed us when we were pledges...somehow beating people never impressed me as the best way to form a friendship.)  Timmy was always the star of the annual carnival shows where he'd consistently steal the show..singing and dancing to songs like "Trouble in River City".
Timmy had a great sense of humor, and a heart as big as anyone.  The two of us opened a flower shop a long time ago and since I was still teaching at the time and he didn't know doots about arranging flowers, he'd hold the fort every day until I got there at 3. If someone came in about a wedding Tim would schedule an appointment for them to meet with me...since I was a graduate of the FLORAL ACADEMY  OF PITTSBURGH.  Ahem. One day I arrived and was alarmed to hear that Tim had made arrangements for a wedding without my expert oversight.  He said that he'd suggested that the bridesmaids carry a dozen gladiola stocks...like giant torches, and since the bride was to be escorted down the aisle by both parents that she ought carry a wreath....so she could lock arms with both of them..and perhaps "ring" one of the bridesmaids when she tossed her bouquet.  That wedding actually took off without a hitch...except for the unusual floral selections.  Timmy looked at me as we taped down the crash and said " SEE?"
  When Tim had to work bartending on a New Years Eve, he asked me to come to the bar to keep him company. I should have known better.  First as the bar began to get busy, he asked if I'd help him just serve beer from the tap, and I did. It wasn't long before I was serving everything...with no experience..and with no idea of where Timmy had gone. At one point I spotted him partying with a group of people..while I was running the now very busy bar. I'd periodically yell to him about the price of a gin and tonic...and he'd say "who's it for?"  He would then glance at the person and maybe say "a dollar"..or if he didn't like the patron's looks he might say "two fifty".  I never did get the swing of things that night...but people seemed to feel sorry for me...were mostly patient, and told me how to make their drinks.  I ended up workking with him for quite a few months, and met his many and varied customers...from Bullia who was about 75 years old and was homeless...living under the Panther Hollow bridge...and would put a few nickles down on the bar and order a beer, to Antoinette who would get drunk and dance on the bar with a baton while his mother would cheer and clap for him, to Anna who was a waitress in a classy resturant and would bring us gourmet snacks. They all loved Timmy, and were willing to give me a chance. When a new customer would come in the door Timmy would shout " Not YOU again!"  He made that crazy old bar famous.
   Timmy was a letter writer, a guy who spent many a Thanksgiving serving dinner to people who had nowhere else to go in a local resturant, and the guy who could bring any group of people to life. He died on the 13th of June...much too young, and much too quietly. His family knew that he and I had been friends forever, but requested that I not speak at his funeral. They were afraid that I'd somehow embarass them.  What turned out to be embarrasing was the cold and distant service that actually happened. Nothing personal...nothing about the people like Carol and her family who loved him and took care of him when he needed it most...of the friends who drove for hours to pay their respects...or the tears in the eyes of the homeless old woman who sat in the back pew. He was carried into church by people who he happened to be working for at the time...while his fraternity brothers sat alone. Tim was a wonderful man..who went out with a whimper when he deserved a bang. I wasn't allowed to give a eulogy that day...so Tim...this is for you.