"There was once an old man named Armand..."

After checking my WVU email, which I hadn't done in awhile, I learned that Dr. Armand Singer had died after a rather long struggle. He was a retired professor who enjoyed dropping in at Chitwood Hall to share stories and send emails. He was 93 years old when he passed away on July 12th but, he had the most amazing life--- traveling to every continent on earth, visiting both Poles, making it to base camp on Everest, sky-diving (as you can see), white water rafting, etc.--- and all while well past retirement age. He was a truly unique individual; always cheerful, funny, outgoing and full of crazy stories.

Though my encounters with Dr. Singer were brief, I will never forget him. He happened to attend a conference in Las Vegas, NV that I attended and he made quite a splash. He was part of the panel in a poetry reading and opted to go last. Each person that got up read some depressing, dark, angst-ridden, super-metaphoric poem that no one understood but clapped for anyway. Then it was Armand's turn. He couldn't stand but managed to demand the complete attention of the audience from his chair. He began by apologizing for any "grimaces" he might make as he read, as this was because he had broken "a rib or two" the night before and they were bothering him. Then, off he went into the material as if what he had just said were of absolutely no consequence. He proceeded to then read several selections of the dirtiest limericks in the history of the style--- while pausing only to giggle between each one. Things came out of that old man's mouth that would make a drunk frat boy blush; at first, the audience was shocked and utterly silent. Slowly, younger people began to snicker (I think I was probably the first one to laugh) and then the stuffy poets began to laugh and then the entire room erupted into uncontrolled laughter.

Armand finished to thunderous applause and several people stayed afterwards to talk with him--- while the other panel members looked on, rather displeased. It was wonderful! It was easily the highlight of an otherwise very calculated, self-absorbed conference. The best part was that I knew what was coming but no one else did. I was crying by the end because I couldn't laugh any harder. That is how I will always remember him--- as the giggling little old man with his lude limericks shocking the hell out of everyone. He was never a person afraid to say what he thought. And he used the guise of his age to get away with virtually everything! But he was also a very intelligent and cultured individual. Personally, I think Armand did it the right way--- life, that is. I sincerely hope that he died happily, knowing that he made the world just a little bit better with his joyful attitude and his zest for life. He was an inspiration to everyone that met him. Here's to you, Armand, we will all miss you!

Does anyone know someone like Armand?-- A person that squeezed every ounce out of life and never let anyone tell them they were "too old" to do something. How will you be when you retire? What will you have accomplished? How do you want to be remembered?