Jack Blanchard And The Thing About Lost Time
LOST TIME.
High on the mountain curves of The Blue Ridge Parkway both of our left rear dual wheel tires blew out with a shotgun blast.Our big motor home lurched and swayed,and our equipment trailer tried to pull us over the cliff.A Seven-Up bottle had ripped the tires apart,and I fought the heaving monster to the shoulder of the two-lane road,where it shivered and died.Dead silence.
Misty and I were in shock.Our traveling companion, Pat Patrick, showed no emotion.As usual.We couldn’t raise any help on our CB radio,and nobody had cell phones then.It was early gray winter and the bare trees were black lace against the sky.We were stranded in a Currier and Ives Christmas card.Pat said calmly: “I can fix it.”I thought I deserved a good panic first but he left the bus and got the tools from the trunk.
We followed, still in a daze.He assessed the situation,examined the guilty pop bottle as evidence,and then he slid under the crippled dinosaur.Misty said, “You really shouldn’t be under there.”Pat said, “Hand me the jack, please.”The jack looked small and wobbly, as Pat pumped it up.There was a little glaze of ice on the asphalt.The jack slipped and the big rig dropped to within a half-inch of his face.
He didn’t blink or utter a sound.He scraped off a patch of ice and tried again.When we were moving down the road a few minutes later,I looked over at him and said, “Thanks, Pat!”>From the co-pilot seat he looked ahead through the windshield and said,“No problem.”Pat Patrick and I were friends for a while,but, being me, I wanted to be friends for life.Being Pat, he was basically a loner.He was a former Green Beret and an intellectual with strong opinions.
I made him laugh a lot with my smart alec comments,and I liked that he got the jokes,but we also got into philosophical debates,followed by quiet spells,while each of us thought the other just didn’t get it.I’m never nervous on stage,but I’m always a mess just before going on.Pat and I would play chess right up to the minute they called me.He always won, but it stopped my pre-stage fright. We were sort of three-piece family…Misty, Pat, and me,and like a family we occasionally did something that hurt or annoyed another.
Misty lets you know loud and clear when you’re out of line,my style is to sting back with quiet words,but Pat never reacted at all.All these years later I realize he was letting it build up inside.When the negativity reached a certain level he just faded out of our life.He was the guy who carried our heavy sound equipment,scared reluctant show promoters into handing over our money,and shared adventures with us all over America,but we never knew where he lived.
He didn’t believe in having a telephone because they were “an invasion of privacy”.He used pay phones.I missed having Pat around and tried to find him for a long time.I finally heard that he owned a little antique store called “The Rusty Duck”.I went to see him and at first we didn’t recognize each other.I looked pretty much the same, but Pat had a stroke.He was shaky and white haired.We traded cordial small talk for a few minutes,and held back decades of words.Recently I heard that Pat Patrick had died.I keep thinking about the years of friendship we lost and wondering why.
Jack Blanchard
© 2012.
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I have always admired Jack and Misty…. they seem to have a truly wondeerful way of enjoying what they do, and YES, they do all extremely well…whether it is writing. singing, telling stories, etc….etc. I don’t know how long they have been around, but the years I get emails, songs and correspondence from them has truly blessed my life. I would call them the “good guys”, and really like them and their talent and laid back way they use it. Wish we keep on adding more and more people like them to the music arena. Congrats on this article which really spelled out how different people can be, but the friendship is what counts. **** 4 stars to great folks Misty and Jack ! Keep up all you do, as you touch many lives, ALSO VERY HAPPY TO SEE YOU ON THIS TERRIFIC WEB SITE…FRANS surely gets the best around involved with it. HAPPY EASTER from Rhon and Bob