'Rich' Man

Sunday night I attended a viewing for a friend of mine from childhood. On the way to the viewing I passed the neighborhood of my old friend Don Rich. I hadn’t spoken to Don in a while, and decided that if time permitted I would stop by on my way home. We encountered a large line at Rick’s viewing, and I didn’t have time to stop at Don’s house afterward. Monday night we celebrated Samantha and Whitney’s birthdays. During the party Kate made fun of Pat for her sweater selection, because it was so baggy on her. Later I learned that Pat had decided to wear that sweater on that day because it reminded her of him. He always commented on how much he loved it. While my house was full of people the phone rang. I saw that it was Don, and decided I wouldn’t answer. Some friend I am, huh? You see, Don has always been a talker. I never got off the phone with him in less than an hour, and I couldn’t leave the party to talk, while we were serving dinner. After the house cleared out I put the phone on speaker as I dialed the voice mail. I was surprised to hear Don’s sister’s voice on the message. When she informed me that Don had passed away, I literally jumped out of my chair.

I spread the word of Don’s passing with a handful of friends from the University and asked them to pass the message along. In the last few days I have heard from dozens of people, many of whom I have not spoken to in years. Don touched the lives of a lot of people in many ways.

I have known Don for the past 11 years, ever since I started working at University Hospital. As I have reminisced with people about the things that made Don unique, I have been struck by some of the recurring themes. Everyone always starts by talking about how kind Don was. He was a genuine man, kind and caring with everyone, even when he had been wronged. He always had a smile.

The other thing that comes up a lot is food. He loved to eat. We shared an office space for many years, and I quickly learned that the first priority in each day for him was what to do for lunch. I was always invited to join him, and usually declined, with the excuse that I was too busy. The real reason was that I couldn’t afford to eat out. He saw right through me. Don turned his nose up at my usual lunch fare (ramen noodles, canned soup, etc.) and insisted that I go with him. Each time he would say “It’s okay. I’ll pay this time.” I helped him with work items (he was technologically challenged) to work off some of the meals, but I still owe him several lunches. During this time he introduced me to some of the best lunch spots in Salt Lake:
· Palooka Grill (sadly, no longer there)
· Tony Caputo’s Deli
· Al Forno’s
· Rodizio Grill
· The Cinegrill



But of all the great spots we frequented, my favorite was the taco vendors in the Sears parking lot on State Street. We would get tacos for fifty cents each (one of the few places where I could foot the bill) and sit on the concrete wall eating and sipping ice cold Mt Dews.



The Mt Dews were another favorite of his. Each afternoon we would kick back and enjoy a cold one. I had a refrigerator under my desk, and we had a deal: I would keep the fridge secure and at a temperature just above freezing and he would keep it stocked with Mt. Dews. Sometimes he would come in with a box of See’s bridge mix, for which he knew I had a weakness.





He also loved a department pot luck lunch. For him it was an all day event. Whenever I would bring in homemade eggnog for the Christmas party he would get really excited. Yet he never drank it. He just liked to look at it. But when I made homemade salsa, he would literally drink it. His assignment for the pot luck lunches was always his ice cream. His Oreo ice cream was great, but nothing compared to his peach ice cream, which was made with peaches fresh off the tree in his back yard.



Don loved to laugh. Even when things got really bad with his health in recent times, he could always find humor. He had a hearty laugh that was infectious. His whole body would shake when he began to laugh. Once we were in a team meeting when one of our co-workers had an embarrassing situation present itself. I didn’t realize it until I heard Don snort. His eyes were watering because he was trying so hard to hold it back. I then had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing too. After the meeting he and I ran an errand and laughed so hard I thought that he was going to wreck his car.



He also liked bawdy humor, which is why we got along so well. Bathroom jokes were his favorite, and he used to repeat a story about a time when a friend advised him against using a bathroom because of the ‘evil spirits’ that were in there. From that time on I referred to him as the ‘evil spirit’. When he would call me I would answer by making a fart sound into the phone, which always made him laugh. We also referred to each other as ‘you bastard’, although I have no idea where that started or why. And I will refrain from some of the jokes of a sexual nature that used to have us rolling.



We played pranks on each other often. Since he had no technical skills I would wait until he would walk away from his computer without locking it, then I would place a picture of Slim Goodbody or Barney the purple dinosaur as his desktop background. He never figured out how to get rid of it. He was very proud of himself the day that he wrapped every item on my desk in gift paper, and again later when he did the same thing with tin foil. When unwrapping tin foil from every item, I started making a foil ball. The ball got so big that when I stuffed it in his overhead bin, it got jammed, and he couldn’t get it out.



But of all the pranks we played on each other, none was better than the pink panties. Again, I don’t know how it started, but we had a giant pair of lacy pink ladies undergarments that we would slip back and forth. Each time we would find a more embarrassing way to do it. Once I had his sister clip it to his dog’s collar so he would find it when he got home. Another time he came to work to find them draped over his monitor. After he started working at Primary Children’s I had a friend give them to him in front of his new co-workers. He once mailed them to Kate, who placed them on my pillow before bed. The last time he gave them to me he took Tootsie Rolls and smashed them to the inside, making the panties look defiled. I have been thinking of the next way to pass them back to him. If I have my way, they will be buried with him (not wearing them, but in an envelope in the casket.)



Though I didn’t talk to Don much in recent times, I miss my friend. He was there for me in some of my most difficult times. Recently I skipped school one night and stopped at his house because I had a lot on my mind. We went to Marie Calendar’s (another of his favorites) and talked over dinner. He never told me what to think or what to do. He would just listen to me. I will miss his distinct mannerisms. I will miss his rugby shirts. I will miss his stories about his dog. I will miss the long phone messages. I will miss being able to reminisce about the fun times we had in admitting. I will miss my friend. Now I am going to get some bridge mix and prop my feet up while sipping an ice cold Mt. Dew.