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Wednesday, September 23, 2009


A final Pasco Fiasco-RIP

About a year ago I stopped posting notices of people whom I know who have died. Late last year and early this year there were a string of deaths and I just couldn't find the gumption to make notice of them any longer on this blog. It was a sad time and before I knew it I was so far behind in posting the notices that I just quit. However, this passing cannot go unnoticed in this blog.

Ken was a character. He was a character first and a cabdriver second.

Ken was a likable guy. Most con men are. Even after he dicked you most people would come around when he turned on the charm.

One of my claims to fame is that I taught Ken how to drive a taxi. I've been called a "bastard" numerous times when that information has leaked out, usually followed by a laugh.

I can remember at least two occasions when the owner of the company had had enough. That was it, Ken was getting fired. No doubt about it, Ken would not be back. He was hard on cars, he was behind on leases, a car disappeared for a couple days and he was the main suspect, etc. On each of those occasions when the owner of the company was so pissed off and ready to take a chunk out of Ken's ass..... what do you suppose happened? On each occasion Ken came back to work the next day with a better car than he had been assigned the day before.

On one occasion I, myself, wrote a note to the boss that I was going to start paying my leases in the form of IOUs as long as he kept that SOB as a driver. The next day Ken turned on the charm and my anger faded to mere piss-off-ed-ness.

Even though he was a con man I did kind of like him. He was usually good for a laugh. If you weren't laughing with Ken, which was usually the case, you were laughing at him.

Can't say I'll miss him. Can say I will never forget him. Never. And I will probably chuckle and smile whenever I think of him.

You died far too young. All in all, I wish you had just moved to Anchorage.

R.I.P. Ken Pasco

Life of a dope fiend, death of a dope fiend. Harsh as that sounds I don't say it talking down. He was who he was. I liked him. He knew German cars and had a wicked sense of humor. I liked how drivers and dopers said his name, heavy with scorn, as if the name itself was an accusation of depravity.
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