Tim Duffy (13 June 1973 – 17 March 1999) and I worked together and he was an avid Bob Dylan and Rodriguez fan. Pretty much anything anti establishment 🙂 Our desks were directly opposite each other. Close enough for even me, to meet target (his head) with a crumbled up paper. He sang, tapped rhythms and hummed permanently.
It was a friendship born in a *smile* and a mutual acceptance of who we are that changed my life.
Tim had this way about him, an ability to treat a street vendor as a King and the CEO as an equal in an elevator and a girl was always made to feel like porcelain. Delicate, fragile but strong enough to hold boiling water.
Perhaps that is why I loved the dead boy Tim so. He lived lyrics, I could only hum.
Don’t …. “Forget it…” … a nursery rhyme you won’t find in a book.
You have been gone 13 years and I still climb on your music. You would have l♡ved the Rodriguez documentary dead boy Tim. You would have cried at the humble soul, as I did. You would have loved that my Kevin grew up to know and l♡ve music and would no doubt pass it on to his kids. For a moment, you were alive again….then again, you have never really died – now have you?
I wish you the gift of music,