Hi Stephen,
Here is another photo of my friend and former coworker at the Museum in DC, Mike Robinson.
He is the one on the right. Art Anderson, on the left, and Mike, were my 2 "partners in crime." I loved them both dearly, and if it hadn't been for the two of them, my job would have been just a job.
But they were always there to help with whatever job-related stuff needed to be done, and they always had a good, dirty joke or story to tell, to keep the fun atmosphere going all day long.
Art called himself "Buff Daddy," because of his "gi-normous muscles"...(as you can see, he's skinny as a weed, ain't got a muscle to his name)...and Mike was deemed "the No Good," which was a nickname Art gave him because Mike was such a goody-goody and had such a big heart.
The two of them were inseparable. They were almost like brothers. Both of them started working at the Museum when it first opened in April of 1993. They were the older guys who knew everything, that everybody looked up to, and they helped everyone get trained when they were first hired, so they knew that place and everybody in it, they knew every brick, every nook and cranny of that place,
just like the backs of their hands.
I loved flirting with them. Buff Daddy would say to me, "Gonna get out my LASH when you come over girrrrrrrllll...." (we talked about flogging a lot...he seemed to like the thought, but neither of them really KNEW that I was actually into that sort of thing). Now, some (insecure high-maintenance) women would be all upset and yell "sexual harassment," or some stupid politically correct shit if some guy at work said that to them, but not me. I'm cool with it. I got in a few zingers on THEM now and then too. I'd walk by and whisper, "Sure feels chilly in here without any underwear on." They'd fall all over each other giggling, and winking and saying stuff like, "Hubba hubba, damn girl, that's HOT."
So, I knew they were only being silly and flirty and having fun, harmless fun, and didn't mean anything negative by it. They were the two nicest friends of mine that I could ever have. Even Mike would tell me to "come sit on Santa's lap and tell me what you want, babyyyy..." (his beard was full and long back then, not this handlebar 'stache in the photo)....and I would say, "World Peace Santa, just work on that first, and I'll get back to ya, mmmmkay?" and I'd wink and walk away smiling.
One of Mike's coworkers (whom I do not know), started a page on Facebook for people to write their favorite story or anecdote or favorite thing about Mike that they remembered...and I wrote mine:
I knew Mike long before he became "The No Good." I worked in VS from 1995 until September 11, 2001. He and Art and I were like the 3 Stooges, we called ourselves, "the partners in crime," and the 3 of us loved to flirt and hang out together whenever we could, on our breaks, on Retreat Days, or any time we had a few minutes between posts to tell a joke or just chit-chat. Mike used to say to me, with a gleam in his naughty eyes, "Come sit on Santa's lap little girl..." and then add "mmmuuuuhahahahaha" afterwards. He had an all-over beard back then and looked like Santa with all that white hair. I really loved Mike, (and Art), because we had a lot of laughs, we had a lot of great talks, and of course, a lot of fun. Mike was always compassionate, kind, loving, and just an awesome person to have known for so long. I've missed everyone in VS, and still do. I wish I still worked there. I had been planning to come to DC this weekend to see him, and everyone else at the Museum......that kills me.....I wish my timing had been better..... That Museum and those I worked with there were like a second family, and Mike was the coolest "Uncle" that I ever had. (Of course, he would say, "Just call me your DADDY," not "uncle)," and then he would laugh...but that was Mike, always flirtatious, always fun, and always warm and caring about everyone. I will always cherish our friendship, and I already miss him very much. Rest in Peace my good friend.
(V.S. = Visitor Services Department). (Retreat Days = off-site training).
So, now I'm just waiting to see the obit, and find out where to send flowers, and if I can, maybe attend the memorial service...if they have one this weekend. The Museum even lowered the flag to half-staff in honor of him, that's how loved he was, by everyone there. It's such a shame that he's gone.
I told my mom today that it made me ANGRY at GOD for doing shit like this, I mean, (and this sounds horrible, but it's the truth, I did think it, though I am ashamed to admit it), my mother-in-law, who is 90 years old, really does not serve any purpose anymore on this earth...ya know??? Why not take HER, and let Mike live, to take care of his family, to finally retire to Las Vegas like he always dreamed of doing, (Art was going to go with him, "just to annoy the neighbors.")
Oh, I know that's awful of me to think that about Florence, and yes I feel guilty as hell about it, and I asked to be forgiven for it....but sometimes things like this make us go to that awful place, even if you really don't MEAN TO, ya know? I mean, she's 90, she's had a good, long life, she's ready to go, she's had enough, she's tired, her body is frail, her mind is even more frail, why not just take HER???
The world NEEDS more men like Mike, not to mention his blind daughter who needs him so much every day----so why the HELL would God TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ALL OF US,
so abruptly, so unexpectedly, like that?? WHAT IN THE HELL WAS GOD THINKING?!!
And then I told my mom this...(when she said, "Maybe God does have a purpose for Flo, and maybe that is to help teach YOU more patience, and how to take care of someone else...") I looked at her and said, while clenching my teeth, "Then that pisses me off even MORE, because God won't even let me HAVE a BABY, EVER, yet He wants me to learn PARENTING techniques from this old woman? WHAT THE FUCK? Why not just let me have a BABY?!! Does that make any goddamned SENSE? I think God is a jerk, personally, and I am SO GODDAMNED angry at Him, I could just puke."
Sorry, I know that probably doesn't put me in a very favorable light in your mind, but what can I say.... this is me. I'm imperfect. I have awful mean thoughts sometimes, like everybody else does. Mostly, I keep those thoughts to myself, but this time, it just had me so upset, I needed to vent to my mom about it.
Well.....so this week has really been hard for me, to say the least.
My sister in England also told us that it has been confirmed, she does have another blood clot in her leg. Last year, she had 7 blood clots in one leg. She has deep vein thrombosis, Factor Five blood disorder, which causes clots to occur for no reason, on a regular basis. She could die from it, like my grandpa did. It's a genetic thing, I'm susceptible to it as well, though so far I have been lucky.
I miss Radar, that sweet little dog, and his quirky huge ears, his huge GRIN---yes, that dog actually grinned, and showed all his teeth in a huge smile when we would come home from being gone awhile--- and that little tail of his just wagging so hard, it was a blur....I even miss those little turds of his, directly underfoot on our sidewalk...(he didn't like getting his willy wet in the snow). I even miss his little surprise piddle puddles in the kitchen that I would step in with my bare foot in the morning.
He was not the perfect dog, but he was adorable, and lovable, and the sweetest little dog you could ever have. He would climb up on my mom's lap and lay his head on her chest, while she kissed him on the head. I used to bend down and kiss him on the head too, and tell him that I loved his kisses, (he would lick me on the nose...with his bad dog breath...but I didn't mind). I would kiss him, he'd lick my nose. He was such a trooper even when he was sick, wheezing and gasping, but yet still wanting to play with his toy...still wanting to run around and chase after Sassy...I really really miss that little dog.
So, this has been a very difficult week. I am glad it's almost over.
Part of me does not want to go to DC this weekend. Another part me knows I have to go.
We're leaving for DC early Saturday morning, and returning Sunday evening.
Tomorrow night, I get to see Dave Koz with Marvin Hamlisch, doing their annual "Music of the Movies" concert, and it's a nice diversion that I enjoy, so I'm hoping it will get my mind off of the sad things going on in my life right now. At least for a little while.
Bye for now. I love ya, Stephen. I will tell you that every day for the rest of my life, because I know that I won't ever get the chance to say it in real life, and if you croak without my saying it, I will never forgive myself. You need to know that you are loved, even if it's by some crazy chick in Pittsburgh.
Just like I loved my good friend Mike.
Love, Rebecca
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