Still missing you

It has already been a year. We miss you, Grandpa!
(Reposting from July 2008)

Grandpa John knew every good jazz bar in Ventura County. He also had just about every radio station in town on speed dial because when they used to do trivia contests, he would be the first to call in with the answer and win radios, concert tickets, flashlights, or whatever other treasure they were giving away. Before the internet, Grandpa was my Google.
It always seemed to me that he had been pretty much everywhere during his travels, especially when he came to my gradeschool show and tell with a map and pointed out the stops on his latest around the world tour. That day he made me the coolest kid in class.
In the top drawer under the kitchen TV he kept a book with movie reviews in it so he could decide which ones to tape on one of his 8 VCRs. I think I inherited my feeling of always missing something important on another channel while watching one show from him.
Driving with Grandpa John was always nerve wracking because he refused to use his blinkers in order to avoid burning out the light bulbs. It made rides to and from LAX quite the adventures.

Cleaning out the basement after he passed away, we found things that just made us smile and shake our head, so typical Grandpa: an entire closet full of boxes with reciepts taped to each one, just in case something ever needed to be returned; plastic bottles of "Military Special Vodka" from the army base stashed in bookshelves so Gma wouldn't tsk tsk him; a false book with a compartment inside to keep secret things, like coins and hair combs.

About five years ago Grandpa wrote an autobiography titled, "Call me Lucky." In it he talks about how he accomplished everything he wanted to during his lifetime. Not everyone can say that. By no means was he perfect, but I think we were the lucky ones to have him around as long as we did.

We miss you, Gramps. Bon voyage.

John McClair Cowart
Dec. 3, 1922-July 15, 2008