The voice of my first friend in life let me know it was a trill situation. His quivering speech was unfamiliar and startling, but it led me to be prepared. At his request I urgently shut down my computer and packed my bag while telling my colleague that I needed to head to the hospital. My friends' report was bleak to say the least; and because of that I praised God during the entire drive to Hanover for revelation of life; for without it I would have been a wreck. Yet and still, as I walked through the parking lot of the campus, as I entered the lobby and greeted other patrons, in the silence of the elevator and the stroll past the nurses and the beeping machines, and even when I arrived at the the Critical Care Unit room to see him...his eyes a quarter open due to the induced paralysis...his face layered with patches and tubes...his body dependent on medical technology...I remembered the Adrian we called Casual Clay.
1996, senior year, Henrico High; where all the guys were corny but the girls were mad fly...
(inspired by Butter-Tribe Called Quest, The Low End Theory, 1991)
For years I was in desire to be somebody, anybody of recognition. Looking back I believe I gained a reasonable portion of that, but I was far from convinced at that time. But I did see my stock rising. I was receiving baseball scholarships from a few schools, I had a great base of friends, and I was getting asked to go to the prom by 8's and up. In regards to the prom my choice was a solid one. And being that she asked me I knew that I was "in there." Now all I needed was to be fresh dressed after the prom and during the flight to Virginia Beach afterwards with my date. As like most of us, my funds were minuscule.
Adrian had a job at Hecht's (now Macy's) and stayed fresh in suits and admirable casual wear..hence the name Casual Clay. Also, because of his many female friends, he had great insight on what girls were feeling at the time. Some of us regularly visited him at his job because...it was Hecht's and he's our boy. And this one particular time while on a solo visit I caught him working the Tommy Hilfiger section; and there we started chatting. During our talk my eye caught a Tommy Hill rain coat and some trunks, and I eased over to them to discover they were out of the price range in my dreams.
Casual said, "you trying to get that, Jonesy?"
"Yep. That jant sweet," I responded.
"Just gimmie $50 and I gotcha covered."
"Yeah, right."
But he was serious. And a couple days later he had the jacket and the shorts before I even had the money to give him. Both the jacket and the trunks are at my parents house today, and at the time when my mom wanted to get rid of them (along with other clothes) I argued against it. I knew there was meaning behind the gear somewhere.
I was never raised to find designer clothes important, but I always wanted them. Amazingly enough, Adrian knew that without me even saying the words...and then he made it happen. What he probably forgot; such a kind gesture for a kid when he himself was also one, with the money he earned to take care of himself and his responsibilities at a tender age, he provided a gift to a homeboy. And as a result, he strengthened my self-esteem. He would probably not realize the significance of his act, but to me at that time it meant the world. This is who Adrian "Casual Clay/Tip-Top" Tuppince was.
Honored to be by his side during his final earthly moments...
Peace
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