Sunday, March 21st, 2010.
Last Saturday, at the age of 63, George James Valentine Schafer passed away in his home. Ross called me around 2:00, not too long after he found out Chris had found the body when he got home. I went right down to the bar, on the way calling Ida, Craig, etc. Everyone was in Vancouver for the ball, but word spread quick.
Ross was, of course, a huge mess, and fucking Jeremy was already there and the JD was already half gone. And of course, the cute straight bartender James picked that day of all days to do his no-show quit. So I started working right away as the grief-stricken or gossip-hungry began to show.
Ross’s banshee-like wails of grief were echoing through the building, bouncing off walls as solid as the memories of that boisterous and bitchy bulldog. In that initial outpouring of denial and rage, of course the court was to blame. It was, of course, a busy Saturday. The girls at Prism held a moment of silence and hoisted a round of Sambuca. I tried to do likewise, but I faltered on the mic and let the night continue. There would be time enough for that in the days to come.
Jim’s brother and Chris’s mom came up Monday. Chris was as drunken a mess as Ross, although with less sincerity. Ross’s anger faded into a poignant loss. Charlie and Bill asked me to perform the eulogy at Thursday’s memorial, but as I struggled to find the words, I found myself very genuinely missing a man I so very much hated in his last year. My memories of him were so complex and my feelings towards him deeper than I would have imagined.
Through all of this, Jeremy’s presence was that of a giant leech, feeding on the grief, getting grotesquely fat off the advantages he was taking. Through all of this, Sweezy’s presence was a calm reassurance. Grieving together, getting drunk together, cuddling as we passed out. Even joked about how we should start dating since that’s what Jim would have wanted.
I wish I’d saved a copy of the eulogy because it truly did express everything I needed to say. Maybe I will eventually copy it down from the video Brian took. But for now, since I gave my original to Ross, let me say that Thursday, March 18th, 2010, I said goodbye to my boss and friend in a standing-room-only Chapel of the Chimes, and I talked about his honesty, his generosity, his dedication, his compassion, his strength, and most importantly, his absolute lust for life. And in spite of everything, I meant every word.
Boots was a zoo afterwards, and while people were there out of genuine grief, you could tell there were some just for show and an eye for Sambuca. Last night was the regularly scheduled Queen of Hearts cabaret, which of course became a tribute show. Again, the bar was a zoo, with a noticeable absence at the corner of the bar.
Today the shock has all worn off and the grief is muted by the fatigue of the last eight days. It is time to sell your Luxardo stocks. As sales begin to plummet, it is time to see what the future holds for Boots under Ross’s sole ownership. Assuming Chris doesn’t inherit anything. Assuming there is anything but debt to inherit.
It is time to say goodbye to George James Valentine Schafer with a boisterous, “Is that right?”