Tom was the only person who called me Marty.
His passing is so huge in one way and in another, he had whittled away his life to a broken down car, a pawned surfboard and a motorized bike he had to pedal - like he reached his vanishing point. He did still have his enviable lust for life and adventure though, and I'm thankful that he was around as long as he was and that he was so happily pursuing his dream.
I'm loving the stories from everyone. One of the stories was the one about being somewhere he probably shouldn't have been, and being shot through the head (luckily a fairly small caliber bullet). He drove himself to the emergency room ( it was nearby) and shouted at the staff "Save me! I have kids" Somehow, the bullet caused no real damage but it set Tom on a course to change his life. He enrolled in San Francisco State University and finally finished his BA in some field like molecular biology - he was going to cure cancer. Then he went on for a double masters which I'm not sure if he finished but it turns out he wasn't much good at the corporate job world so he ended up being probably one of the ony drywall tapers or wall paper people or bus wrapping people with a BA in molecular biology.
He always had a better way of doing things - before setting out for Mexico, he tried to get a job as a farm worker, cutting cabbage. They wouldn't hire gringos and he figured it was for the best because he would have taught them a thing or two about picking cabbage.
Love that guy, miss him, can't believe there will be no more new Tom stories - please keep the old stories coming.
Martha
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