Thanks for the Laugh’
I read in the Eureka Springs Independent that David Bell died. Having moved away from Arkansas, it was the first I’d heard about it.
My earliest visions of David had a camera between us—he was frequently taking photographs while my husband and I were playing music in public places. And when we needed photos for some official purpose, he took them free of charge. Good ones.
Later I joined the Ozarks Chorale and discovered he was a member. Because tenors were often in short supply, I was moved from the alto section to sing with the men. So, David and I got to sing together in small group rehearsals. He was always in good humor—making funny little asides, sometimes at inopportune moments when we were supposed to be quiet. Listening. Concentrating on the notes. I think we even got shushed once or twice. I wonder if he was the class clown in school.
The chorale stopped meeting when covid hit. Before long, David sent a funny email to all the members. It now evokes poignant memories:
Dear Chorale,
Here are some things I hope will brighten your day. I didn’t come up with them… not smart enough.
Enjoy,
David Bell
Half of us are going to come out of this quarantine as amazing cooks.
The other half will come out with a drinking problem.
I used to spin that toilet paper like I was on Wheel of Fortune.
Now I turn it like I’m cracking a safe.
I need to practice social distancing from the refrigerator.
Still haven’t decided where to go for Easter—The Living Room or The Bedroom.
PSA: Every few days try your jeans on just to make sure they fit. Pajamas will have you believe all is well in the kingdom.
Homeschooling is going well. 2 students suspended for fighting and 1 teacher fired for drinking on the job.
I don’t think anyone expected that when we changed the clocks we’d go from Standard Time Zone to the Twilight Zone.
My body has absorbed so much soap and disinfectant lately that when I pee it cleans the toilet.
Day 5 of Homeschooling: One of these little monsters called in a bomb threat.
Classified Ad: Single man with toilet paper seeks woman with hand sanitizer for good clean fun.
Day 6 of Homeschooling: My child just said, “I hope I don’t have the same teacher next year.” I’m offended.
Better 6 feet apart than 6 feet under.
I never saw David again. My husband died shortly after Covid-19 hit the USA—just before vaccines became available. (He didn’t die of covid, but I think the stress he felt from the pandemic contributed to the apparent heart attack that killed him.) After his death, I joined the widows’ group at the Methodist Church in Eureka Springs—which I credit with rejuvenating my life. So, when I learned that David’s wife had died, I contacted him via email, to invite him to a meeting. He thanked me kindly for the invite—but to my knowledge, never attended the group. That thank you email was the last I ever heard from him.
None of us lasts forever. Yet it can still be a shock when somebody dies. Even when they’ve fallen off our radar. Although I haven’t laid eyes on David for several years, and I now live in another state, I can feel the crater David’s passing has created in Carroll County.
Thanks for the laughs, David. I’m glad I knew you.