Clark Adams is no more

Clark would want us to all be sitting around telling dirty jokes and relaying inappropriate anecdotes right now. He would prefer to be roasted or lampooned rather than mourned. I’m kind of upset with Clark right now, so I am not going to do that. Well, not too much anyway.

I want to let you all know that there are not words to describe how thankful we are for your sympathy, your kind words, and your reaching out to all of us who were close to Clark. I also want to state that some of the things I want to share with you today are pretty private for me. I appreciate your respect for that. This is not about me. It is about how important two things have been in my life, my being an Atheist and Clark Adams.

I have entitled this “Clark Adams is no more.” It is a reference to a both a Monty Python skit and the eulogy that Monty Python member John Cleese gave at the funeral of fellow member Graham Chapman. If you have never seen these, I encourage you to seek them out and enjoy.

I spent so much time thinking about what I wanted to say today and talking about it with other people that I feel a thought from one of Clark’s favorite comedians, Bill Hicks, is in order. He would open his act with the following…

“It’s great to be here. I thank you. I have been on the road doing comedy for 10 years now. So, bear with me while I plaster a fake smile to my face and plow through this shit one more time, alright.”

Many of you know Ray Johnson, or RayJ. He and I have been close friends since high school. I have him to thank for introducing me to both Clark and to Freethought. RayJ started seeking out local and national Freethought groups in late 2001. He met Clark through those searches and started attending meetings of the Humanist Association of Las Vegas and Southern Nevada, or HALVASON, in early 2002. After a couple of meetings, he dragged me along to one. He especially wanted to introduce me to this really cool couple who he had met, Clark and Jennifer Adams. When we met, bonds were immediately formed. I was also introduced to Humanism and Atheism and Freethought.

This was especially beneficial timing because 2002 was an extremely difficult year for me. My marriage of 13 years was falling apart. I got laid off from my job and went without work for 8 months. Most importantly, I was nearing the bottom of my bout with addiction. Just a few days before Clark’s death was the 5 year anniversary of the day I checked myself into a rehabilitation clinic, the day I started a slow and agonizing ascent from the abyss. The dates are close enough together that it will be easy for me remember to celebrate Clark’s life and my own.

My choice to identify myself as an Atheist was the main guiding force behind the strength I found to change my ways. I mean, it’s obvious right, this is the only life I get, better spend it a little more productively. Seeing my children grow into the fine people that they are and having the opportunity to develop wonderful relationships with those closest to me are the rewards that I reap on a daily basis. Clark played no small part in all of this.

As time moved along, Clark and Jenn became two of my closest friends. They were so gracious and giving. They listened to me, sometimes endlessly, lament my situation. I shared the pain of my divorce, of no longer living with my children, and of my battle to stay sober with them to no end. They were always there, patient and caring. My financial situation was tough for a long time. They were so often willing to pick up the tab, telling me if I could pay fine, if not no sweat. They truly cared more about me as a person and sharing my company than about a little money. I thanked them excessively, as I am wont to do, but I really meant it. It was so comforting to meet people who felt the same way I do. Relationships are far more important than possessions.

As time passed, I am glad to note that I had many opportunities to repay their kindness. I jumped at every one, offering my help with things like moving and putting together furniture or computers. Clark insisted on paying me for my time and when I didn’t accept he bought me countless meals or gave me gifts. I have several things that Clark gave to me to say thanks for my help. He insisted and I accepted because I felt that was one of his ways of reaching out, of showing me how much he appreciated me. I assured him that I would do anything for him. Anything, anytime and I would do it because he was my friend. He knew that and still he gave.

In reflecting on these memories, I realized that I am an optimist trapped in a pessimist’s body. As it turns out, Clark was seemingly the opposite. He was one of the most positive people I have ever met. Many times, when I saw the worst in people or situations, especially with regards to the future of Freethought or the human race in general, he would share his own outlook that things are at the turning point. He truly felt that Reason was primed to take its rightful place as the basis for human existence, that a Golden Age was dawning. He said so in his final note. Those who try to blame his loss on his lack of belief are sadly mistaken.

A friend of mine, who is a believer, and who did not know Clark, asked me a question shortly after I shared the news of his death with her. She said, “Don’t take this wrong, but what do you do?” I did not take it wrong. I knew what she meant. She was asking what non-believers do when one of their own dies. I hesitated and said, “I’m don’t know. I’m sure we will have a service.” You see at the moment I really wasn’t sure how to answer, partly because Clark is by far the closest person to me ever to have died.

I have given my friend’s question a lot of thought and I feel I have a much better answer now. What do Atheists, Agnostics, Freethinkers, Humanists, Skeptics, and the like do when one of ours dies? Well, most obviously, we do what the billions who have come before us do. We grieve. We feel a myriad of emotions simultaneously. We cry and laugh and shout our pain to the world. We seek strength and solace in our friends and family. We celebrate the life of the departed. We do so publicly and we do so privately. Outside of this, I can only answer for myself.

As a Freethinker, I understand that my flooding emotions are a natural reaction. I have even noted with curious interest how this has affected me. I did not sleep much the first several days. I felt like I was walking through a cloud and going through the motions. I have never before had to have people remind me to eat. I have never been afraid to cry, but I have never cried so much. I have wished the tears would just stop, yet still they come. Not as frequently nor as intensely now, but I am sure I will cry at the loss of Clark for the rest of my life. Most importantly, I cope. There is work to be done and there are others who suffer, so I reach out and share their pain. I do whatever it is that I can to get through the shock and the horror. I give and I receive comfort at every opportunity. I do all of this to honor my friend, to help his friends and family, and to help myself.

As an Atheist, I know that my friend is gone. His exit is tragic, sudden and unexpected, but final none the less. Sad as it is, I will never see him again. As he wrote, he returned to the nothingness that existed before he was born, and I accept that. If my words sound harsh, then my point is being lost. I have only my memories of Clark and that is enough. I choose to live by his example, so I do not need promise of eternal reward or threat of eternal punishment to do what is right and just, to seek truth and beauty each for its own sake, to be compassionate and accepting, friendly and honest.

As a person who sees the scientific method as a guiding principle, I understand the concept of probability as it relates to human experience. I find beauty in the ocean of chaos that is the natural world. I know that, in our experience, man alone makes order out of this chaos. That, by itself, is wonderful. I do not need magic, superstition, religion, or belief in the supernatural to get me through the day. I feel awe at the amazing number of coincidences that had to occur for me to have known Clark Adams. I understand that an infinite amount of time has passed since this galaxy was formed and in turn this solar system, and this planet, and the life on this planet that takes its highest form in the human brain. I also grasp the fact that the probability that I would NOT be standing here, sharing this time with you now, far outweighs the odds that I would be. This chance to share, this here and this now, with all of you, is both astounding and beautiful beyond compare. Every moment of my life is the same in that regard. I do not need more.

Clark Adams was my friend. My friend was in pain and I did not know it. That is difficult to accept. But I take some small comfort in the fact that, if my friend’s pain was so great, he is feeling it no more.

Clark was an icon in the Freethought world. He contributed his time and his money freely to support the cause. He was a leader amongst those who would not be lead. He herded cats. He will be very difficult to replace. In his public life, Clark stood for all that is right with human beings. He counted believers among his friends and admirers, as well. He disagreed with many, but he respected all. And so, I was honored when Clark asked me, and others, to help him found the Las Vegas Freethought Society. He was very proud of this group, as well he should have been. It was his vision realized

I have learned a few things about him in the past few days that I did not know. The most touching of which was the fact that Clark was very good with kids of all ages. I am not surprised at all. Clark was but a big kid himself. I saw Clark with my own children, but they are teenagers so it is a little different. I never really saw him with younger children. Apparently, he treated them with patience and humor and didn’t pass up an opportunity to share with them his passion for the world around him. That is Positive Atheism in action. The big things are very important, but the small things count the most.

While Clark was one of my personal heroes, and I feel that others could do far worse than to feel the same, those of us who knew Clark best prefer to remember him with his quirks, the things that made him human and real to us. As Jenn so eloquently put it, “Clark had warts. I prefer to remember him warts and all.”

I realize now that I treated Clark with kid gloves in an emotional sense. It seems to me now that may have been to his detriment, but it was not my choice. I reached out to Clark. He shared a little, very little, and then changed the subject with a quip or a joke. I am pretty sure I hurt his feelings when I first told him that I thought he looked like Peter Griffin from the cartoon “The Family Guy.” A brief look of discomfort crossed his face; he looked away, and, as usual, changed the subject. When I told Jenn, she said, “Yeah, you probably hurt his feelings, but he’ll get over it.” Seems in some regards, Clark could dish it out, but he couldn’t take it.

I couldn’t stand the look on Clark’s face, though. It was the same fleeting look he would get when I was being in any way pessimistic about the future of Freethought, or when any of us would talk negatively about someone for whom he had respect. But the look would pass; he would offer a positive observation, then we would be off and joking again. As I said before, things seemed to get spun positively in Clark’s presence. It was a nice balance to my natural cynicism.

The one thing that I did not give him a break on was his fascination with meeting famous people, especially famous Atheists. Jenn would get him for this, too. He would heartily brag about the people he met and knew and we brazenly gave him a hard time about it. With him, it was not obsessive or anything of the like, however. I think he liked feeling important in that way. I find it is a little sad that he probably didn’t realize how important he really was to all of us.

In all fairness, I like meeting famous Atheists, too. Since I knew Clark, I had that opportunity on more than one occasion. My favorite example came after the Freedom from Religion Foundation convention in Madison, Wisconsin a couple of years ago. After the convention ended on Sunday, Clark, RayJ and I went to Freethought Hall, the FFRF’s headquarters, to hang out for a little while. Now remember that the convention had just ended, yet the leaders of this fine organization, Annie Laurie Gaylor, her husband Dan Barker, and her mother Anne Gaylor took the time to visit with us. They had to be exhausted, yet they took the time for us because we were with Clark. They were so gracious and friendly and I have this wonderful memory thanks to my friend.

Clark was the only person I have ever met who drank more diet soda than I do. If you went to the grocery store with Clark, you might as well have grabbed two carts at the door, because one of them was going to be filled with two-liter bottles. Clark preferred his diet soda with no ice. When asked why, he would say that he got more soda that way and the melting ice didn’t water the soda down. I commented that he drank it so fast that the ice didn’t have a chance to melt, anyway. During his work day, he made frequent trips to the Quickie-Mart to get refills of diet soda, no ice. I guess he had worked his way up to the Uber-Gulp. You know the refillable soda container that is so large it requires a handle to carry it like a bucket? “Could I get a bucket of diet soda, please? No ice.”

Clark and I shared a love for music and for stand up comedy. We saw many comedy shows together. Doug Stanhope was one of his favorite comedians and I got to see him with Clark a couple of times. Unfortunately, I missed the opportunity to share the last show Clark saw that night. I was not staying on top of things and I just forgot. That hurts a little every time I think of it.

Rush was Clark’s favorite band. He felt they are the greatest Freethought related rock band and I understand why. They are amazing musicians. This is another minor regret. I didn’t get to see them live with Clark. Oh well, I will see them and enjoy them none the less and I will think fondly of Clark.

My favorite band is Tool. Just over a year ago, after I found out that Tool were playing in Las Vegas, Clark and Jenn were the first people I called. They were fans too and I had to share. Turns out it was on Jenn’s birthday. I called her cell phone and she answered but had to give the phone to Clark. She was a little tipsy and having trouble speaking clearly. Apparently, she liked the first drink she had so much, she had a second, and that was a little too much. The two of them had made quite a scene at the upscale restaurant where they had been dining. A buzzed Jenn was being silly and talking far too loudly and inappropriately and Clark was trying to quiet her, while laughing hysterically. I can just picture his full body laughter. Anyway, I told Clark Tool was coming, he relayed the news to Jenn and she screamed in the background in her slurred speech, “I wanna go!” Clark shared her enthusiasm and told me to get tickets for them, too. I got to share that concert with the both of them and with my kids. That is another very special memory for me.

Now, just imagine Clark at a Tool concert. Tool attracts many fans that are, shall we say, creative in the personal appearance department and here’s Clark in white tennis shoes, Docker-style shorts, a plain Polo shirt tucked in snugly, clean shaven and bespectacled surrounded by the hard core. He was oblivious to the irony I think. My daughter had almost as much fun watching Clark rock out as she did watching the show. Try to imagine Clark playing air guitar, poorly, and kind of partially head-banging, with an obvious lack of rhythm, it was almost painful to watch, yet highly entertaining.

Clark was one of the few people I have ever met who talked as fast as I do. Actually, Clark talked faster than me, a LOT faster than me. That’s scary. You know those people who leave you a five minute voice mail the gist of which is, “Dude, call me back.” That was Clark, except he could leave a five minute voice mail in thirty seconds flat.

Clark was not a good driver. This unfortunate fact was exacerbated by his propensity for running late. If you were on a road trip with him and riding shotgun, he would tell you that you were the navigator so you needed to hold the map. He loved maps by the way. So much so that he would invariably become frustrated with how you, the navigator, were reading them and take them away. There he was, driving fast and aggressively, and reading the map at the same time. Occasionally, he would also choose to take a drink of his diet soda, no ice, while driving and reading the map. If his cell phone rang, he would answer it. I do not want to know how he still managed to steer. It was a bizarre and terrifying balancing act I feel lucky to have survived.

To go along with these little quirks, Clark drove as though everyone else on the road was to blame for his continual tardiness, like if there were no other cars on the road he wouldn’t be late even though he left well after he should have. He shouted, he brandished various gestures and he honked his horn with no regard. When we asked him why, he would say they needed to be taught a lesson. They, who? What lesson?

A former co-worker of mine who was from Pakistan told me that there are three rules for driving there. The first is to only pay attention to what is in front of you. Do not worry about what’s behind because the guy behind you is doing the same. Second, traffic signals are optional. And third, no matter what time day or night, whether you are alone on the road or stuck in a traffic jam sound your horn every thirty seconds or so. I think Clark’s second calling may have been as a cab driver in Karachi.

Kind of eerily, when I thought of this, I realized that it is kind of a metaphor for some of the ways in which Clark lived his life. Think about it as I paraphrase. Only pay attention to what is ahead of you, never what is behind. Social conventions, mores, and rules are optional. Regularly sound your horn. I think we all heard Clark’s horn load and clear.

If you want to honor Clark’s memory, and aren’t sure how, I have a few simple suggestions.

Give to a Freethought organization. Maybe if we all give a little more of ourselves, we can make up some small part of this huge loss to our community.

Go to a Freethought convention. Clark loved them and they’re a lot of fun.

Enjoy some live comedy or some live music.

Reach out to the people closest to you and make sure they understand how important they are. In my opinion, that is one of the best ways to help the healing process in times like these.

Tell a joke, the dirtier, the more politically incorrect and the more irreverent the better.

Order a diet soda, no ice.

Rob Pickthall - 6/3/2007