Nocturnal Wenchy

Dear yesterday,

I knew the song “Establishment Blues” word for word long before I had ever heard about a poet in song, from Detroit in the USA, named Rodriguez.

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.

A 6ft Tim with his waist long, wavy blonde hair, extensive general knowledge and his superior use of the English language… and the colonial drinking of Earl Grey tea who named me Wenchy.

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,
Wenchy♥