THREE RIVERS AREA — One of the last times I saw him was when I visited him at his home in Little Rock. He casually touched his white hair and smiled. Pouring me a glass of red wine, he invited me to sit on the well-worn couch in his library. Surrounded by books, we drank wine and talked about life, literature and how things had changed for both of us over the past few years.
Robert L. Short wasn’t just any ordinary man. In my mind, Bob was a great man who forced me on the path of words. If not for him, I never would have had the courage to submit my first piece, and you wouldn’t be reading this column today. So, you can either thank him or curse him for that.
A year ago this month, Bob died, and sometimes I miss him terribly.
When he wasn’t working on a manuscript, analyzing a movie or reading, he was talking, learning and absorbing. Despite his long list of academic titles he had picked up along the way, he seemed like a grounded man. Many times, he helped me to understand how to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground, or at least not let them dangle too high.
Around town, he was the man who walked everywhere. Sometimes, he would even have his nose in a book while he was walking. I would tease him and make up scenarios in my mind of him running into a pole, or leaving a five-car pile up in his wake as he crossed the street while he just kept on reading and walking, never realizing what had just happened.
Where am I going with this? Well, Bob was an author with whom many people are familiar. One of his best-known works is The Gospel According to Peanuts. Not only was it a bestseller, but it was THE best-selling book the year I was born, and it has been translated into, I believe, 11 languages. I was told that it was a required read at Lyon College at some point in time.
There would be many afternoons I would sit in Bob’s office and he’d tell me stories. He even let me see the old black-and-white video of his appearance on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson. One particular day, I sat in the chair across from his desk after I had interrupted his work on the re-release of The Gospel According to Peanuts, and he told me he was expecting a phone call from Charles Schulz, to whom he lovingly referred to as Sparky.
“Do you want to answer the phone when he calls?” Bob asked me with a smile.
“Of course I do! Are you kidding me?”
So I answered the phone and got to talk to Charlie himself.
Bob never used a computer. His manuscripts were all written the oldfashioned way. He wrote letters and made phone calls instead of using e-mail or text.
If you’ve never read any of his books, please check them out. I hope you’ll be inspired, find a warm humor and remember the man to whom I’ll be forever grateful for pushing me along and kicking me in the backside every now and then.
And as he used to inscribe in his books, “I hope all your griefs are good !”
Three Rivers, Pages 52 on 07/29/2010