I forget the time frame we were in. It was probably in the mid-late 2000s — maybe 2008.
At the time I lived in Ashford, Alabama — right outside Dothan. I got in my car one Saturday and headed up to Montgomery to spend the weekend with Alan. He was gifting me a custom-built computer from his old business that he called a “real racehorse”.
Alan always knew the right spots in town to check out some primo live music in Montgomery. That night we got in his car to check out a band his friend Kurt was playing with. The venue just happened to be a local gay bar.
The band was killer. Playing a mix of classic rock covers — their cover of a particular Steely Dan song was particularly well done.
During the band’s set break, Alan and I are sitting at the bar nursing our drinks. Alan taps me on the shoulder and directs my attention to the front door. Standing at the front door is a very tall gentleman dressed in drag. He was over six feet tall and wore stiletto heels.
Alan leans in and says to me — completely deadpan — “I don’t think that’s a woman.” I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Uncle Alan was a complicated man. He was married and divorced five times, and one of his favorite pastimes was to give me dating advice. If I shared with him about a particular woman I was seeing at the time, I’d almost play roulette in my head with which story he’d share with me about which story about which ex-wife may or may not relate to my situation.
When I was a child, my sister and I didn’t have much of a relationship with him. He lived in the Carolinas for most of my childhood and we didn’t hear much from him at that time.
After he moved back to Alabama, he became part of our lives again.
For most of my young adulthood, I was clean-shaven. And it used to bother him so badly that I didn’t wear a beard. I cannot tell you how many times he said to me “you oughta grow you a beard, man. You’d get all the women.”
See what I mean?
After my Mom passed in 2009, he and I became closer. One of my family’s favorite pastimes was attending concerts. Two particular shows really stand out — 2009 at Orange Beach we saw Steely Dan for the first time, and in 2012 we saw Tower of Power down in Jacksonville. Music really runs deep in the Hall family.
In fact, in my final phone call with Alan in August, I shared with him that I was publishing my new novel in November. The main character is a blues guitar master. He was so happy and proud. And I’ll remember that always.
After Dad passed away, I found myself taking charge of a lot of the funeral arrangements. Even in the recent past of 2014, this wasn’t really in character for me. Being a take charge person wasn’t really in character for me.
During a lull in the arrangements, I lean back and take my glasses off. And I muse “I don’t know how I’m doing this. What’s gotten into me?”
Alan looks at me and sincerely says “You’re a Hall Man, it’s in your DNA.” The men in my family are quiet and charismatic leaders. And that fit Alan to a T.
Rest easy, Alan. You were a real Hall Man. And I’m going to miss you tremendously.
Love you, man.
PS. I never could get that computer to work right.
