As if the face staring back at me in the mirror every morning weren't enough of a signal that if I've not yet started I should definitely accelerate the gathering of those rosebuds, I came across an obituary in one of the Sunday newspapers of someone with and for whom I had worked (many years ago).
I don't think anything signals you've stayed too long at the fair like reading about the passing of a previous acquaintance. I'm not nostalgic about him, or myself, for that matter, as we didn't get along which, considering he was my boss, could and should have been more awkward than it was mainly because while had little regard for his leadership abilities he had none for my ability to do my job.
When he was fired, the term used was 'relieved and reassigned' but we all knew what it meant even though he carried on as if nothing had changed, I didn't feel anything for him. Even after an additional desk was brought into my workspace and he was parked behind it for the three or so months before he retired.
I absented myself from his farewell party and the actual retirement ceremony because I've made a career out of being an asshole who, if nothing else, is at least honest. Turned out out less than a dozen people attended any of the festivities.
In the just about two decades that followed I'd see him, on occasion, in the hallways of the Mohegan Sun Arena before or during half-time of Connecticut Sun WNBA games. He never gave any indication that he recognized me so I reciprocated. I don't think it affected the play of anyone on the team in any event.
Last year there were no home games in a pandemic season and so far this year I hadn't seen him but I hadn't looked until I was caught up slightly short as I sat Sunday morning at my breakfast table reading of his passing and listening to the tick, tick, tick of the sweep second hand of the watch that marks the passage of all of our time.
-bill kenny
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