Informant38

This story, about the one-ton 60 year-old Uganda crocodile with a taste for human flesh, brings an old friend to mind. We'd lost touch, I was living in a cabin in the mountains without electricity, just beginning to play around with the computers at the public library in town, which were relatively slow and withdrew their engagement after an hour's session. I did a search for his name and that's how I found this.
He was a better friend to me than I to him, in some ways, and he was very brave, in a lot of ways. He was also a lover of reptiles and amphibians; he had some vivaria when we were roommates, with a pigmy rattler and a constrictor he fed live mice to, a no-middle-ground lesson for a consciousness-altered soul like mine was then. We became roommates because one day as I was making my rounds as the garbage man at the junior college I saw him and his girlfriend and a voice said "Go ask them if they need a place to stay, and tell them they can live with you at Ridley Street." Pretty much just like that. So I did. They were bumming because they couldn't find a place to live, and were getting ready to head back to LA.
We had a lot in common and I think we'd have had a lot of this in common too, this Internet thing.
I think about Scott when the accusations of anti-semitism get overbearingly intense. He was a Jewish boy from Chicago. I miss him a lot.