And, Resting In Peace....
Let me start by begging your forgiveness for venturing into an unknown protectorate.
I learned many years ago that it's better to beg forgiveness than to seek permission, (especially when dealing with bureaucracies and government agencies, of which this is neither) and anyway, I'm certain Lactose wouldn't want me seeking anyone's permission.
Now, I may be overstepping my bounds here but, I believe Lactose would have encouraged me to always leap, and settle for a step, beyond my bounds.
I'm writing about a man whose only existence to me, until today, was his quirky nom de plume on the home page of the Nuking Politics blogsite.
Jonathon "Lactose the Intolerant" Siddoway departed this life on September 28, 2016 and though I never had contact with him and "wouldn't know him from Adam," I immediately became enamored and felt a kinship with him after reading through a dozen or so of his blog posts today.
His intelligence and wit hold aloft a high standard of writing.
His sardonic yet sensitive purveyance of provocative insights into politics, culture, religion and all the various forms of conversational taboo that most of us shelter from in our dreams, (let alone during Voss Water breaks at work or, at the after work Bombay Sapphire martini soirees) set him distinctly apart from squibs like me.
That sounds way too fancy, doesn't it? Maybe except the squibs part.
Mostly, I couldn't stop laughing while reading his work. He's a nut!
Not just any nut. I'm talkin' about those massive Brazil nuts that you can use to temporarily plug your derriere when fecal evacuations have been ordered and there's not an appropriate repository in sight for miles and miles.
Now, my nuttiness? I don't even compare with Lactose. If he's a Brazil nut, then I'm a lentil.
I know, I know, lentils aren't even nuts. They're legumes, I think. I honestly don't know if I'll ever achieve nuthood.
But, Sir Lactose would want me to continue his efforts to vanquish all tyrants and remain in training on the literary battleground.
Well, in a very interesting stroke of fate and timing, (God definitely works in mysterious ways) my first ever blog post was published on Nuking Politics on September 27, 2016 and the next day Lactose passed away.
One thing I truly believe, THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES IN LIFE.
Now, I'm not so presumptuous to think I can ever fill his shoes, even though I never wear socks which could make the attempt a little easier.
I'm also still wearing my duct taped Birkenstocks which should shed some light as to why all my friend showed up at my last birthday party. He didn't stay long. He never does.
He just drops off the same present every year and leaves. Some kind of foot powder that I try to give the homeless in our town and they always say the same thing,
"Dude, that's close enough. No thanks, you keep it. Do you need any money or food or anything?"
But, I digress.
Trying to reach Lactose's level of intellectual humor and incisive commentary would be tantamount to me believing that some day soon, I'll certainly deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for healing the planet's populace with my future levity and tranquilizing literary accomplishments.
Of course, if such a brilliant man like Barack Obama who has visited all fifty-seven states in America can get a prize, maybe there's hope for me.
But, whether I receive a Nobel Prize or not, I certainly received a more precious prize, a prize of laughter and encouragement from Jonathon.
And I pray for the Siddoway family, that they may have "a peace that passes all understanding."
Mary Siddoway, thank you for sharing Jonathon with the world, allowing us to partake in his gift of love through his unique writing, humor and deep intellect. We are better people for it.
And, Lactose, rest in peace. There is nothing more for you to tolerate.
We gladly accept your "Torch of the Intolerant."
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