Rick Powers

Twenty years ago he was a middle-aged plumber at Mosquito University. He was smart, but he was never kind. He was not especially mean, I don’t think; he was just not considerate of what he said, so that he was apt to say anything that popped into his head. I could relate to that a little; I sometimes have no sense of caution about my remarks, either. I remember working with him on campus one day when we ran into the mother of a coworker that Rick didn’t especially approve of, and I grimaced and looked away while Rick unabashedly inflicted his poor opinion of HER son on her ears. I doubt he ever saw what was wrong about that; she’d asked a question and Rick just answered it without prevarication or padding the truth. I didn’t especially disagree with what he’d said, I just never would have said it to the bastard’s Mother!

It’s hard to remember that he’s dead now. There was something so lively about him and his casual but stubbornly demanding approach to life. He was a few years older than I was, less than 10, so I guess he’d be pushing 68 by now. Instead he’s pushing up daisies.

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