A Well Lived life

It's funny how sometimes people we know very little can have a big impact on us. Such is the case with my friend Nena's good friend Paul. I had dinner with them once years ago when Paul was here to see his friend, director Randall Scott's production of Timon of Athens at Mills College. And then later he came down from Oregon to see Mary Zimmerman's play with Nena. Paul loved the theater-and had really taken this leap of faith of leaving his work in tech field to do stage management to make it a bigger part of his life. Stage management? Yes that is apparently most people's reaction to hearing that he would say. It's a lot like air traffic controller, it's a tough, tough job running things after the director has left. He also loved theater lighting and did that too. But the thing is he DID all of this and more. He and his wife also retired early and moved to Ashland which is another dream he made real. He could tell a story very funny. He had an understated sense of humor (Nena told me he said of prop 8 "If you want to get rid of gay sex encourage gay marriage" which always cracks me up...)

Paul passed away in January, he was diagnosed with aggressive colon cancer. He was going to come down again to see the latest Zimmerman play Arabian Nights last year, but as that day was coming close in Nov. Nena received a notice from his wife of how ill he was.

Paul will pop into my head from time to time now. Hardly knowing him, I remember how he was funny and how he made real his dreams and seemed to truly enjoy the life he made for himself. (Nena adores his wife too whom I haven't met but I can just imagine) And how cool all that is, and how a hero only dies one death.....and how i hope I can emulate him in some ways....

At his service he asked they read from Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters, a play he appeared in in high school:

Good friends, let's to the fields - I have a fever.
After a little walk, and by your pardon,
I think I'll sleep. There is no sweeter thing,
Nor fate more blessed than to sleep. Here, world,
I pass you like an orange to a child.
I can no more with you. Do what you will ...



Maybe you can no more with us, but I admire you and hope to pass that like an orange to a child...