Every now and then you meet a guy…Tough and rough and kind and understanding, hot to (fox)trot, good (and always willing) with his hands, going out-of-his-way at the drop of a hat, green-thumbed, gruff and soft and warm and fuzzy, humble and confident, outgoing and welcoming.

Bob was “That Guy.”  Above all other guys I’ve known. One of a kind. There will never be another.

There was the time he and Barb drove from Des Plaines to Madison to rescue us because we were broke down on our FIRST RV trip before we had a toad and the experience for self-rescue. He dropped everything (I assume, because he appeared about 2.5 hours after our call),  took us from Madison to Chicago to retrieve our car,  accepting only a Cheeseburger in payment.  

We enjoyed several rendezvous after the Whites disembarked from their cruises.  There was  always an extra bottle (actually,  probably several!) of Pusser’s Rum for Painkillers, just in case…

And we always had the Mickey Mouse Waffle Maker at the ready.  

We missed a chance this year,  our paths actually crossing, but a few days apart. We were actively discussing meeting the Whites ON the boat (apres afterwards?), next year.

Bob LOVED a project and we had no shortage of them.  Barb once confided that she LOVED that we gave him projects for the sake of his (and her) sanity!!  I know he relished the challenge of creating things that fit and worked in unusual places, even with a most difficult client breathing down his neck. 

Each project made our lives better – partly because of furniture-needs met, and partly because of the pleasure of working with Bob in his driveway to meet them.  Cocktails afterwards were fun, too!

Furniture By Bob…

Furniture Installed

Sewing-GeneralCabinet

SewingWorkspace3

SewingWorkspace2

KitchenNewDrawers

Bob’sKitchenAideMount

Bob’s SPice Cabinet

KitchenDONE

If you watched from a few feet back during any of the furniture projects, you would have thought Bob and I were an old married couple.  Bickering about EVERYTHING.   What to do first.  How to measure a space. How many (and what kind of) screws to use. When a piece was sanded enough. What WAS the right color of stain. Imagining very different (apparently) finished products in order to argue about setting up the table saw to cut correctly. Etc. etc. etc.  Our working styles and strategies might have seemed incompatible almost to the point of violence;  but speaking for myself,  we couldn’t have BEEN more compatible. 

I learned a lot from Bob…about wood working as a metaphor for coexisting with people who approach a problem from a different angle.  I would like to think Bob would say something similar, if I got my Ouija Board out.

He MUST have enjoyed something about a Bus in the Driveway,  complete with its eccentric occupants, because we were not in the “NIB club” at the Whites.  (NIB:  “Not Invited Back”). 

On the contrary,  we (and , pretty sure, he) ASSUMED there would be a point every year when we were ensconced in the drive, overlooking their MAGNIFICENT yard while enjoying Painkillers, Margaritas and/or Gin Tonics after a day of “bickering.”  While Maxxxx chased and eventually consumed cauliflower heads and the squirrels and birds swarmed the peanut mix Bob bought as seconds from the Fisher Nut Company. 

Come to think of it…there were ALWAYS mixed nuts served with cocktails…quite possibly they were the seconds nuts not good enough for the squirrels ?…Thirds?  Especially with the glint in Bob’s eye as he served them.

Last fall, there was the promise that he would MAKE SURE his new concrete driveway would be strong enuf for our current RV…just in case we needed additional furniture. Or nuts!  Speccing a driveway for 44k lbs of someone else’s vehicle?   I mean,  who does that!  Well,  Bob did…and it didn’t surprise me a bit.  

Bob was That Guy. 

I couldn’t  believe Bob was 80 last summer.  I can’t believe he won’t be 81 going on 60 this summer. We’ve already renamed the Waffle Maker after Bob… and I do and will think of him every time I pour a drink from  the Liquor Bin he built for us. 

Of course, he KNEW I would think of him every cocktail hour…Bob put a sticker inside, unbeknownst to us at the time:  “bobwhite designs, ltd.”  I smile (with a tear) every time I see that sticker.  

Our last conversation was about our next visit.  I joked that we looked forward very much to making the first oil spots on virgin concrete.  Bob did not look as amused as I had intended;  but neither did he make us NIB.

RIP, Bob!