In the early 90s hey-day of BBSes, many of us who had the interest and aptitude to hook up modems to home computers tended to be shy & awkward as the result of years of childhood unpopularity.  BBSes gave us a semi-social outlet by interacting with others in forums and chats while staying safely & decidedly AWAY from actually interacting with human people in the flesh.

Jim was not cut from that cloth.  When he came across someone he liked on a BBS, he would quickly propose a meet-up at the Great Lost Bear or Spot Shot or Denny's.  Some of these people we never saw again of course, but many became fast friends and members of our circle for years.

As I got older, I definitely adopted Jim's way of looking at things -- find people who share your interests, speak your "language" and build your own support system / extended family. 

If it weren't for Jim's pushing me out of the basement and into the pool hall, I wouldn't be the person I am today.  I told him this when I asked him to stand up with me at my wedding, and I think of him often when I take a look around at my life.

Thanks, Doc.  Miss you.

Jim will always be known to me as the guy who invented iced coffee!  I met Jim one time when I went to Portland with Rob.  We went to the beach and went swinging on the swings together and wound up at Denny's where Jim told me what I'm sure is an infamous iced coffee story worthy of Jack Nicholson in "Five Easy Pieces."  I can't do it justice but those of you who've heard it know.

I remember taking a liking to Jim right away and I always looked forward to seeing him when we were in Maine for Christmas.  I'm also happy to say that Rob and I got a chance to take him to the Weigh Station, a Doctor Who bar in Brooklyn (he got to into the TARDIS) and I will always be happy and grateful that he is Rob's best man.  Jim was always quick with a smile and up for a goonie adventure (though maybe after a little bit of prodding).  I'm not sure what else to say.  I didn't see Jim often but I miss him every day.

 

One of Jim's great pleasures was to have his friends together to celebrate his birthday.  

For many of us, Jim's birthday was always tied right up with Christmastime, since it was so close.  I think that bothered him.  

When we weren't all living nearby anymore, and we'd tend to return to Maine at Christmastime.  That trip was always too short -- too many people to see, never enough time to see them all.  We'd make it a priority to gather on Christmas Eve at the Burns Christmas party, but Jim always tried hard to get us together again on his birthday.

This photo is at the Great Lost Bear in Portland in the late '00s to early '10s.

Like the swallows to Capistrano, Jim, Matt, Ben and I would return every year to Dicky and Vicky's Gorham home to gorge ourselves on the meatballs and seven-layer dip, chase off the cousins, take abuse from Mr. Burns and eventually retreat to the basement to watch It's a Wonderful Life, never failing to point out how that horrible Donna Reed had un-wished all of Jimmy Stewart's dreams.

As we grew up, moved away, got jobs, fell in and out of love, got married, I don't think any of us ever wanted to leave the tradition behind.  We just wanted to bring our new families into it.
 

This was the only weekend that we were not able to be in Greenville, South Carolina after Jim's brain injury. April (who is a nurse at Regency Hospital) had a friend take photos and texted them to me. That was the only way he would take photos. April said that she thought Jim was making a heart with his hands.