It Slurps

That's one of my sayings: "That doesn't just suck, it slurps."  And that's how the week ended.

Early Friday morning, I got up, made my coffee, and cranked open the computer to see what new madness was rolling around in the Hall of Outrage.  There was a post by Heather of Craftlit telling us that everybody's favorite reader, Jon Scholes, had passed away that night.

He's the one that I recently crocheted those afghan squares for.  We made Jon a blanket, and when Heather and the gang took a tour of England in October, they brought it to him.  I can't express how glad I am that we did that.  He sent a message to us saying he'd send a picture of himself with his blanket with a proper thank-you when he was feeling better. 

We -- the Craftlit listeners -- loved Jon.  We collectively worried about him when he was sick (he had Crohn's Disease, or something like it) and we eagerly waited for whatever project he read for us.  Jon returned our regard by cheerfully reading whatever Heather requested of him, or by figuring out new and interesting things to put together for us.  He read and edited hundreds of hours of audio for Craftlit.

Want a sample?  Take a listen to this: The first chapter of Bram Stoker's Dracula.  You'll have to scroll about halfway down the page to the Libsyn bar to hear him.  About twenty minutes in, Jon starts reading the part of Jonathan Harker.  It was our introduction to him.

I never met Jon, but really did love to listen to him read; it's not odd to me at all that I feel so sad that he suffered, and that now he's gone.  We just don't know what kind of ripples we cause in our ponds, do we?