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My love affair with Bob, which lasted through the summer and into the fall, went far beyond our common interest in sailboats. We shared a love of bikes, all boats, family and friends, and he even tolerated living with Rose (and I) for a few months. (Bob loves to pretend he doesn't like dogs). We read Farley Mowat's Boat That Wouldn't Float out-loud to one another for a week, and during this time Bob spoke to me, almost exclusively, in Newfie dialect (Come topsides and sees whats I'm doin'!!) he'd shout from the upstairs of his lovely (built by Bob) home. He cooked pizza from scratch, rolling the dough out and adding the most bazzare toppings you could imagine, resulting in a mouth-watering feast of Italian (his grandparents) inspired cuisine. He shopped for and cooked a Thanksgiving dinner for twelve, with two turkeys and enough vegetables to feed all of the Pilgrims aboard the Mayflower. He used an electric paint mixer to mash the potatoes. The list goes on. Bob loves to drive his vintage 1969 Porsche, which usually means several hours on his back under the car adjusting something, usually the brakes, before he can get behind the wheel. He rides a classic BMW 650 Boxer motorcycle in the summer to work , looking like a helmeted version of a very sexy Steve McQueen. Even though our tryst was short-lived, the impact of Bob's powerful and passionate personality will never leave me. His is a unique spirit.. full of fun, quick to forgive, incredibly generous to friends and family, hard-working (he said that if he worked any harder he'd throw up), crazy and super athletic (rides a longboard most places in the city. He's 63. Can you bloody believe it??) and he's very, very loving. He is, above all, a conundrum, mostly to himself. A wild-spirited, soulful and wise 'young' man, who lives life DAILY to the fullest. I will miss his presence in my life...
