Days gone by
A very long time ago, too long to even try remembering exactly how long, I knew a man named Charles Sweetwater. I doubt anyone knows him as that now. Few even knew him as that then. He was an interesting character. Loud, brash, rude, obnoxious, arrogant, pompous, short tempered, greedy, self serving. In short, all of the things people would never want in a friend. Strangely enough though, one thing he never lacked was charisma. His story was a classic one. Left the small town to move to the big city. Turned his back on his family and past, left behind the family business his father wanted him to take over. Travelled half way around the world, always looking to be larger than life. And for someone who was so small in physical stature, he had the image of a giant. He was out looking for his fortune, and in some ways he did make, and lose, fortunes. But what he seemed to want most was his fame. And that he got.
I remember hearing third, fourth, fifth hand stories of his exploits, listening quietly as others would tell tales of his deeds. To hear them re-told as he had told them, you would think he had saved the world, that we all owed him something for saving us. And more than a few times I would quietly shake my head, thinking "You idiots. I was there. Thats not at all how it happened." But his legend had taken on a life of its own. And in so many ways I hated that legend. And hearing about that great man and his even greater exploits, I often thought about the truths of him that I remembered. I remembered how as time went on even the collected following of people who had flocked to him drifted away, left him. How even those blinded by his charisma, those who would have at one time followed him into hell and back again, eventually left him. And as a leader, even then, he was a bastard. He was a puppeteer, manipulating things from behind the scenes. Always claimed he didn't want people to follow him, suggested they follow the lead and example of others. But always suggesting others who would turn their ear to him in times of trouble, so he still was always in control.
I have no idea what became of him, where he is now. I've heard everything from him being a millionaire philanthropist recluse, living alone and controlling everything from behind a curtain to him being poor, penniless, and living alone in obscurity. But in every case, the one thing that seems constant is that he is alone. And that is one of the few things that to this day I have no trouble believing about him. But the sad thing is, I do at times still miss him. For all his flaws and faults, there is a part of him that I occassionally still need. Not want, but need. I don't want him back, I don't want him in my life any more. Its been far too many years, and I've changed way too much, mostly for the better. But he did have a way to get me, and many others, to accomplish things we never thought possible. And in some ways I do miss that. I could use that part of him again.
So, to Charles Sweetwater, or whatever you're known to people as now, if at all, I raise a drink and light a smoke to you. May you rest in peace, rot in hell, and remember, even if only one, there is still one person who, although reluctantly and grudgingly, calls you friend.
Cheers
I remember hearing third, fourth, fifth hand stories of his exploits, listening quietly as others would tell tales of his deeds. To hear them re-told as he had told them, you would think he had saved the world, that we all owed him something for saving us. And more than a few times I would quietly shake my head, thinking "You idiots. I was there. Thats not at all how it happened." But his legend had taken on a life of its own. And in so many ways I hated that legend. And hearing about that great man and his even greater exploits, I often thought about the truths of him that I remembered. I remembered how as time went on even the collected following of people who had flocked to him drifted away, left him. How even those blinded by his charisma, those who would have at one time followed him into hell and back again, eventually left him. And as a leader, even then, he was a bastard. He was a puppeteer, manipulating things from behind the scenes. Always claimed he didn't want people to follow him, suggested they follow the lead and example of others. But always suggesting others who would turn their ear to him in times of trouble, so he still was always in control.
I have no idea what became of him, where he is now. I've heard everything from him being a millionaire philanthropist recluse, living alone and controlling everything from behind a curtain to him being poor, penniless, and living alone in obscurity. But in every case, the one thing that seems constant is that he is alone. And that is one of the few things that to this day I have no trouble believing about him. But the sad thing is, I do at times still miss him. For all his flaws and faults, there is a part of him that I occassionally still need. Not want, but need. I don't want him back, I don't want him in my life any more. Its been far too many years, and I've changed way too much, mostly for the better. But he did have a way to get me, and many others, to accomplish things we never thought possible. And in some ways I do miss that. I could use that part of him again.
So, to Charles Sweetwater, or whatever you're known to people as now, if at all, I raise a drink and light a smoke to you. May you rest in peace, rot in hell, and remember, even if only one, there is still one person who, although reluctantly and grudgingly, calls you friend.
Cheers