My friend, Ken.

I once knew a man.

His name was Ken.

I met him when I was working at the Renaissance  Faire.

He made me laugh.

He was  very kind.

He was tall and slim.

When I hugged him

My head  came to about his tummy.

His humor  was wicked.

Once, my mom and dad came to the faire to see me perform in a play. I introduced them to Ken.

My mom, called me Rikki. That was my nickname growing up.

No, you may not call me that.

Anyway, so he heard her call me Rikki, and got a very interested

Look on his face.

So I stopped him right there!

Ken, you may not call me Rikki.

Only people who have given birth to me,

Or people who have slept with me can call me that!”

Then, I saw this wicked evil grin come upon his face, (sorta like people blush, ya know? The red just goes from the chin and travels up to the forehead…)

Ken got all tall and strong and cocky then with the most wicked, voice said


Then I remembered!

Oh shit…I had slept with him! It was a cold raining weekend at the faire and I climbed into his camper, curled up next to him, and fell asleep.

That happened a cuppla times

Some times his girlfriend, Kathy

Would also be in the camper.

So yeah, we slept together.

OMG, My mom laughed so hard.

Daddy, not so much.

He called me Rikki from then on.

And I was okay with it.


We were friends, good friends.

Like a brother really.

I loved him very much.

I trusted him.

I made the Head meet him.

If Ken, did not like him, or thought

That he was not good enough for

Me, I would have trusted him, and very

Likely would have cut it off with the Head.

That is how good a person he was.

That is how much I trusted him.

We were friends for a long time.

Both at the faire and in real life.

He got married to that girl

We both slept with.

She was a good friend also!

Me and the Head sneaked

Goldschlager to her before

The wedding.

The wedding was at a lovely place

in Malibu Canyon.

I think.

The weather was


The sun was shinning.

A nice sea breeze

Cooled us off.

Even though, I stood in back

With the Buddha.

But it was cool.

There was another mom

With her toddler too!

Then he got cancer.

He had been sick

We thought with the flu.

I mean, what else could it be?

He was very healthy and fit!

But the Dr said:

“It is cancer.”

It was very close to stage 4, if I remember right.

It was some obscure cancer that only old Korean old men got or something like that.

It was just so fucking random.

So we fought.

Yeah I said “WE”

His wife and his friends, everyone who loved him fought the cancer.

He got his treatment in the city that I lived in at the time

I saw often those days.

He would make me take out Kathy ( his wife) to eat, and get some fresh air.

On more than one occasion I held him while he barfed into a bucket.

On new years day, we took him to my Momster in law’s house

To watch the rose parade up close.

He was so tired. But he loved it.

I should look though the box oh’ a thousand photos and find the one of the three of us.

I think that was one a the few nice things that my MIL has ever done.

He fought a long time.

The last time I saw him, I drove up with the head and another couple, to his in-laws house.

When he walked out into the living room, it took everything I had in me to not cry out loud.

He looked like a Auschwitz survivor.

He walk slow being held by his wife and a metal walker the kind old people use.

We did not stay long, but I did something I had not ever done before.

I said “good by”

When he went back in the bedroom this time, I helped him, and as he sat down on the bed,

I said

Ken, I will not see you again here on earth, I want you to know that I love you and I will miss you.”

I held his hand.

And I cried.

He did too.

I asked him to please watch over me and my child (at the time we only had the Buddha.)

We hugged more, cried more, and said our

Good bye’s and I love yous

I told him that I knew with all my heart that someday we would see each other again.

He agreed.

When I walked out of the room he said

“Bye, Rikki”

Later that night, our friends, the head and I were trying to eat dinner somewhere along the coast. I Can’t remember where.

It was Mexican, I think.

And J said, That he had never seen a braver, more courages act then Ken walking in to that living Room that day.

Indeed. It was a sight to behold.

He died, a few days later.

On the 4th of July.

With his wife and good friends by his side.


It did not go unnotised that he died on

Indepdance Day.

He was Free.


For that

We were all


We had a lovely Memorial for him.

It was at the same place they had

Gotten married.

I read a poem.


I forget what it was.

The weather was


The sun was shinning.

A nice sea breeze

Cooled us off.

Later that summer

A bunch of us


at Disney Land.


We scattered his ashes

Though out the park.

The Head and I left some of him


Small World.
(i know, that was sorta mean)


Tom Sawyers Island.


In front of the Castle.


Kathy had put his ashes in

Film Canisters.

Someone said:

“Ken always wanted to be in film”

It has been 10 years.

I still miss him.

He was 38.


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