February 2000 feature by Leslie Harpold |
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Never Enough Time
Even as an abstraction, it's heartbreaking: a smart young man, full of
energy and passion, a newlywed, well on the path to career success and a
magnificent friend to those who were privileged to know him dies suddenly.
Because the man in the description is Smug writer, professional journalist,
and my loyal friend Ben Auburn, please trust me when I say that there are
no words that expand to describe the empty place where he stood.
Ben had this very sincere brand of enthusiasm for the things and the people
he cared about. He remembered birthdays, said nice things about people
behind their backs, and always said thank you, even when he was doing you a
favor. If he liked something, he would tell you why, and try to help you
find the handle that could convince you to like it too. Rather than a
sales pitch, it was an earnest attempt to share something he found value
and joy in.
I hate that I have to write about Ben in the past tense from now on, that I
won't be able to go over the wish list for 2000 in December to see how many
came true, that I won't get impassioned emails urging me to go buy records
that have just come out he thinks I'd like. I'll miss the phone calls
announcing that he'll be in New York for the day, but if I can find an hour
in the afternoon, he'd love to have coffee, and the gossipy sessions where
we'd trade tidbits about the publishing, rock and web worlds. I always
appreciated that no matter how busy he was he made time for me, told me
both his good news and bad, and listened to mine. I had planned on being
friends with Ben a long time. How could I not, having had the good fortune
to meet someone so large hearted, small egoed, funny and kind?
More than my loss though, the whole Smug staff as well as me mourns for his
wife family, and other friends who feel this loss wherever they look. The
people in whose lives and hearts Ben inhabited space daily will feel the
absence for a long time. I am just honored to be able to count myself
among those who's lives he touched and that much richer for the two years
he was part of my world, and the generous contributions he made to Smug.
I never was much good at saying goodbye, preferring to keep them brief, so
I could conceal my sadness, but this goodbye was far too quick and
untimely. Now with this opportunity to express publicly anything I feel
went unsaid and hoping that the information would somehow seep into the
cosmos, I'm only left with two words: Thank you.
in the junk drawer |
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