I guess it was bound to happen. A close friend of mine has been killed in New Orleans. Murdered. By a close acquaintance or by a random act of violence? I won’t know until Tuesday morning perhaps.
I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it. It still hasn’t hit me yet. Yet, I am sadder than I have felt in years. And I am angry. I hate New Orleans—the police and the administration which can’t make the city a safe place to live and rebuild. And I am shook to my core….
And I HATE how I have to turn you into a “blog-comment,” my friend Robin. I should be talking to you in person in August when I come back home. I should be chatting with you in the barber’s chair when I get my hair cut. We should be reminiscing about all the things we have shared since we first met in 1999. When Bobby used to cut my hair. When Bobby died. When you were the “King” of Decadence (the poster is still up at the Golden Lantern—and if you don’t know where that is, then you just don’t know “gay” New Orleans).
I love you Robin—you were always a great friend. And as much as you lamented at times being in New Orleans because of the crime, you relished the wonderful lifestyle and quality of life here in the city.
It is interesting how I mourn you in the “technological” age. I will write an incredible tribute to you here. So all can see. But, given all there is in the world, I would rather noone know about you here so that I can see you again in August—to see that you are safe, alive, and well.
Goodbye, my friend. I will see you very soon. You will be in my thoughts daily. And, as the spirits surround you, I will wish you were here instead….