Captain Lou

I called him Captain Lou even though as he would oft remind me he never rose that far in the ranks. But he was a US Navy man through and through, fiercely proud of the time he spent in the service during the Vietnam Way. So Captain Lou it was.

Lou was an intellectual, the kind whose social skills lagged far behind his mental acumen. He could hold forth on any number of topics for hours on end, frequently punctuating whatever the given subject might have been with historical quotes and truly bad puns. Such niceties as knowing when to stop or start a conversation? Not his forte. Lou had the rare distinction of being fascinating and irritating company all at once.

His post-naval career was programming, specializing in a machine that was functional yet a throwback. Which was only fitting, given that Lou was something of a throwback himself. A lifelong bachelor who adored women while scaring most of them away with his klutzy interpersonal mannerisms. That was Lou.

We talked often, a natural byproduct of working for the same company and therefore being in the same building. Lou would engage anyone in conversation at any time, usually when they were at their busiest or otherwise in no frame of mind to talk. Not that this ever stopped him. Lou was the kind of person who needed to engage others, or at least get their attention long enough to make whatever point he felt important to get across at the time.

He loved San Francisco, which was somewhat peculiar in that Lou was as politically conservative as they come. We would agree on the latter while trading jests about our respective teams, he trumpeting denizens of Baghdad by the Bay with me heralding residents of the city with no there there. He had no interest in hockey or NASCAR, which was just as well. We already had enough to discuss.

Had.

Lou died from cancer yesterday morning.

We seldom discussed spiritual matters, and perhaps I’m remembering what I want to remember. That said, the one time that comes to mind when the topic was raised there was a sense of understanding. Only God knows who belongs to Him. Yet I believe my hope is not in vain that as I write this God is getting His ear talked off.

Wish I could do the same.

Godspeed, Captain Lou. I know you were a classical buff, but hopefully you won’t mind this one.