Two weeks ago, on February 9th, my best friend Dave Inverarity passed away.
Rather than focus on all the sadness and emptiness that I’ve felt since then (which there’s been no shortness of), I’d prefer, at least for today, to simply introduce you to him, in case you never had the privilege of meeting him.
Dave was…Boy, where do I even start?! Well he was certainly one in a million, maybe 10 million. He had an unbelievable mix of intelligence, wit, good looks, and heart. Dave definitely fell into that select group of individuals where women wanted to be with him and other men wanted to be him. The guy was member of MENSA, though you’d never hear him brag about it. I remember him telling me he “just liked to do the puzzles,” referring to some of the mind teaser books MENSA members could order. On his living room shelves and in his bathroom, you’d find everything ranging from tech magazines to books on philosophy, business, culture, psychology, travel, interior design, and much more. He was a walking encyclopedia of information (or maybe wikipedia in his case). He was an avid Mac user and very fond of social media and all the current web trends. While this should all sound impressive to you, I still don’t believe it describes just how smart he was. I guess I can only say that if you ever met him, it’s quite possible he was the smartest person you ever met.
Dave was also a very funny guy. Being a pretty funny guy myself, I think our common taste in humour was one of the key ways we bonded. There are no shortage of pictures of Dave making faces, wearing goofy things, and just hamming it up with the boys. He loved shows like The Office, Flight of the Conchords, Kids in the Hall, and Entourage to name a few.
Dave was a very caring person. Growing up, I went through various “best friends” as I got older. While I cared for all my friends, there was something missing. I never felt like I had that one pal who would always have my back and really make an effort to help me maneuver through this obstacle course we call life. I always felt like I’d be willing to go further for my friends than they would for me. Abbott had Costello, Laurel had Hardy, Butch Cassidy had the Sundance kid, these guys were in it together. And so were Dave and I. And I was not alone. At least three or four other people called him their best friend. That’s how much he did for everyone. He had a plan for us all and we were all going to make our dreams come true together. I think myself and the rest of the gang know we need to remember that and do whatever we can to help each other. He would want that.
He also loved animals, especially his dog, the aptly named Einstein. He trained the hell out of that dog. Einstein was learning something new all the time. I’m SURE it was only a matter of time before he answered the phone for Dave. They walked together every day. It didn’t matter if it was sunny, raining, snowing, or a tornado was on its way, they walked every day. It’s hard to think of Dave and not think of Einstein. They were inseparable.
Dave loved life and experiencing all its wonder. He was handsome, polite, smart, funny, and caring. The bastard was pretty much perfect, making us all look like puss. He had the looks and smarts to do whatever he wanted. While he could’ve been a model or an actor, Dave decided he wanted to teach. It made perfect sense. All that knowledge bubbling in that noodle of his was dying to get out and be shared. I’m sure he would’ve been a fantastic educator. Knowing Dave, it also wouldn’t have surprised me if, perhaps after 5 years, he left teaching to do something else. Maybe he’d become a lawyer, then a marine biologist, then take it easy and be a carny for a while before running for mayor. Laugh if you must, just don’t doubt it. Dave loved life, and life loved him back.
There was also something very mysterious about Dave. You often felt there was something he wasn’t telling you. He didn’t lie, he was honest, but he liked secrets and played games from time to time. It starts with something as basic as his name. His real first name was Ronald. David was his middle name. But no one ever called him Ronald, he was Dave. Also, he just seemed to know too much. You could call him with any problem and if he didn’t know how to solve it, he probably knew someone else who could. This is how he earned the nickname “The Wolf.” This of course refers to Harvey Keitel’s character, Winston Wolf, from the movie Pulp Fiction. But that was only one nickname of many. Because of his interconnectivity with his Macbook and hacking and such, I called him “Morpheus” or “Neo,” taken from The Matrix. I’m pretty sure he also had some hand-to-hand combat training and I know for certain he had weapons training. Sometimes he would sort of disappear, as all secret agents do from time to time. You know, go dark, off the grid, that sort of thing. Because of all this, and because he travelled quite a bit, and was doing who knows what on his Macbook, I called him “Bourne,” as in Jason Bourne. That’s the one I used by far the most. He liked it.
When I got the news about his passing, I really didn’t believe it. I was convinced he was just doing some sort of odd social experiment that we’d all learn a great deal from. Eventually I stopped believing that. But, a part of me believed this was all just part of a plan to get him “off the grid” again so he could begin a new mission. And even tonight, I continue to wonder if, maybe 5 or 10 years from now, I’ll get a call from Copenhagen, Berlin, Fiji, or some other far off place, and the voice on the other end will say “Mission complete. I’m coming home.”
I’ll be waiting.
