Now, I alone know.

Bob ran a pinstriping shop by the canal. He was kind enough to rent space to a couple of us wayward silk screeners. I rolled up on him on day while he was busy building a wooden toolbox for the back of his El Camino. “My Grampappy gave me this power drill,” he said proudly.

A minute later the drill just quit working. Bob looked it over carefully and realized it was beyond repair.

He wound the cord around it and casually walked toward the canal. With a huge arc of his arm, Bob sent that old piece of metal sailing far over the water. It hit with a SPLOOSH!

Without even looking at me, he added, “Now, I’ll always know where it is.”

We all miss you Bob.