Woke up the other morning inexplicably humming this Marty Robbins oldie, a big hit in 1960, which, of course, you never hear on the radio any more but sure ’nuff did way back then.
I wonder if Scott Chaffin does that from time to time, stirring from a doze in his box seat at the baseball diamond in the sky? Would not be surprised. It was Scott’s idea to include Robbins in the Gangsta Rapper Pantheon. Works for me.
I love the idea that the character of “wicked Felina” was adapted from a girl Robbins had a crush on in fifth grade. As they say, write what you know.
The latest comment at The Fat Guy’s last post has the details:
“For the DFW area folks… From Scott’s mom: Continued update from our family to yours: Memorial services for our beloved son, brother, father & grandad, James “Scott” (Buck) Chaffin, will be held Sunday February 16th at 2PM at Casa View Christian Church, 2230 Barnes Bridge Road, Dallas 75228; we’ll welcome y’all to join us . . . Missy asks that we dress casual, your boots & jeans, Rangers shirt, Hawaiian shirt, your Converse Chucks, etc. (this is not a formal occasion) . . . we’ll cut off your tie if you wear one!”
I had no idea he was called Buck. But the prohibition on ties rings true.
His cancer-stricken build didn’t fit The Fat Guy image of his longtime blog. As you can see, he wasn’t fat from side to side or front to back.
He’s the third friend I’ve lost to cancer in recent years and another is dying at the moment. Scott was a self-employed wrangler of digital bovines and my good IT guy, who was dubbed an Internet Angel by one of those deceased friends whose blog Scott also kept in good repair.
Not long ago, Scott helped me rescue the Scribbler from Yahoo and move it here to WordPress. I’ll miss him.
He was an inveterate Texas Rangers fan, even when they didn’t deserve it. So I hope he’s settling in to a box seat behind home plate at the baseball diamond in the sky where it’s always spring and the first pitch of a new season is in the windup and about to be thrown.
UPDATE: Another memorial, with a pix from SC’s happier times. And one more, a fine one with some appropriate bluegrass, from Andy at MyOldRV.
MORE: Andy’s bluegrass fits him, but it was high-energy blues that suited him, here.
Scott Chaffin, my incomparable IT guy who has sheparded me through many a software update with a minimum of irritation at my ignorance, has been struggling with late stage lung cancer for more than two years.
His last post on his The Fat Guy blog early Wednesday was part of his commitment to keep a public diary of the effort. It came shortly after another series of radiation treatments at M.D. Anderson in Houston:
“Beaten, damn near broken. They assure me that it will get better. Don’t expect much out of me for a few days, though.”
Scott seems to be hospitalized near family in Northeast Texas, according to Tom Galli, a lung cancer survivor who’s been advising him on treatments for a while now. Tom says in a comment on Scott’s blog that he is in ICU on a ventilator after a failed operation to remove an obstruction on his esophagus.
Prayers for Scott’s recovery would be good. Or at least an easy passage onward.
UPDATE: “Scott passed at midnight. He was sleeping comfortably and with his family,” according to blog friend Otis. A memorial service is planned for Sunday, the 16th.
The Texas Rangers have lost their most loyal fan. And we have lost a friend.
It feels like it’s been a month since the temperature rose above 45 degrees, though it hasn’t been quite a week yet. But I’m thoroughly sick of it. Sick of living in Little WisconTex, with the temp falling into the 20s every night.
Thanks to help from my IT guru, aka The Fat Guy, at least the Scribbler finally has a home that’s not vulnerable to Yahoo!: what you see here is it, the good Lord willin’ and the creeks don’t rise—if they did they’d just freeze over anyhow.
We’ve transferred all the posts, comments, and media back to infinity and beyond (actually 2006) from Ye Olde Scribbler, so, as Darkwater wanted, the Rule 5 catalogue (among others) should be intact.
As for Ye Olde, she hasn’t been scuttled over the Mariana Trench yet, but that’s coming. So if you’re feeling sentimental, go say goodbye. And if you could bring us some proper, early December, 70-degree weather, I’d be forever grateful.
This is a Golf Channel commentator? So they say.
Via The Fat Guy.
This stuff still gives me a little tingle. You probably have to be a certain age. I doubt the young today would give it a second glance, even after learning that falling panties was a theme of this guy’s work. I reduced the height of the pix to make her a little porkier. She’s more up to date that way. Surely you’ve noticed the trend.
Via The Fat Guy.