Los Gatos Weekly-Times

Photograph by Lynn Benson

Bob was crowned with a garland of bay leaves when he became Poet Laureate in 1993.

Opinions About Lots of Things

By Dale Bryant

When I learned that Bob Aldrich had passed away over the weekend, I wondered if we should pull his "Our Town" column from this week's paper. Knowing what a challenge it was for him to write it--and meet his deadline--it was something I didn't have to think about for long. Bob was the consummate professional. In the four years I've been the editor of the Los Gatos Weekly-Times, he was only unable to turn in his column two or three times. In every instance, his doctors just about had to tie him down to keep him from his goal. In the past few weeks, he was weak and had lost a great deal of weight, and even though we encouraged him to skip his column for a few weeks or let us set up a computer for him in his apartment, he insisted on coming to the office for the several hours each week it took him to write his column.

Grudgingly, during the past two weeks, he permitted his friends, including our staff reporters, to drive him back and forth. He hated asking for help, but his friends gave it gladly.

For the young reporters who got their start at the Weekly-Times, Bob was a role model and a legend. Zack Stentz, who now edits The Metropolitan monthly in San Francisco, used to call Herb Caen the Bob Aldrich of San Francisco.

It always tickled Bob to hear Zack say that. Once Zack and Bob got into it at a staff meeting about Generation Xers. Bob insisted they were a bunch of spoiled, lazy kids who refused to grow up. Zack took exception to this description of his generation, and they agreed to put on the gloves and come out fighting, metaphorically speaking. I gave each of them 700 words and space on our Op/Ed pages to make their cases.

The result was a "point counterpoint" that generated a lot of attention and was one of three editorial sections we sent off to the California Newspaper Publishers Association contest; I always thought it was the one that pushed us into the winner's circle.

I know how much people in the community liked Bob's column; everyone told me it was what they turned to first.

It was the first thing I read every week, too. About 2 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon, I'd open Bob's column on my computer screen and begin the week's editing. I started with Bob because it always gave me an overview of what had been happening in Los Gatos and because Bob never missed a deadline; it was always there waiting for me.

But what I'm going to miss most about Bob is his participation in our Friday afternoon staff meetings. Our staff meetings are both a look at the coming week and the final activity of the work week. We let our hair down and get into some lively discussions. And we laugh a lot. It was at one of those staff meetings that Bob first proposed writing an Op/Ed piece about an issue of great concern for the community. "Do you know," he asked one Friday afternoon, "that you can't buy a pair of men's socks in Los Gatos since Chrislow's closed down?"

It got a lot of people talking. Bob wasn't writing just about socks, of course, although he did have a very practical Midwestern streak. He didn't think it was a healthy situation for a town to be so precious it didn't offer a single store that sold men's socks.

Bob loved playing the curmudgeon, although he wasn't a very good one. Real curmudgeons don't laugh at themselves self-consciously and apologize for complaining.

Nevertheless, he wasn't shy about putting his opinion out there for all the world to see. And he had opinions about lots of things. He loved Nebraska and his Cornhuskers and the Los Gatos Museum Association; he hated skateboarders and car phones with a passion, as well as Democrats. And he especially hated Bill Clinton.

During the November election, we didn't just talk about local candidates at our staff meetings, we also chatted about the national scene, and if I or one of the reporters even looked like we might say something nice about the president of the United States, Bob would go on the attack, armed with facts, figures and opinions he'd read in various books and journals.

And if I ever dared to take his beloved Museum Association to task in an editorial--which I did on several occasions--he'd wait till we came to the editorial pages during our weekly critique of our paper, and he'd let me have it with both barrels. Ditto the Old Town Theater.

Bob was no shrinking violet. He was funny and opinionated and professional. He was everything our young reporters aspire to. And they knew it was a rare privilege to work side by side with him.

And he genuinely enjoyed them. Bob never missed a party, whether it was Metro's big holiday party or a beer with the staff at Hannegan's. Bob even dutifully showed up for our most dread night of the year--the night we count Best of Los Gatos ballots. We bring in pizza and beer and promote it as a party, but the truth is, it is a night of sheer drudgery; it was not something Bob was expected to do. But he was one of the troops and he didn't believe in shirking responsibility.

The last staff meeting he attended was two weeks ago. When he stood to leave, he hitched up his pants, which were hanging loosely on his hips. "Guess I'll have to write an Op/Ed piece about how hard it is to keep your pants up when you've lost 25 pounds," he said with a laugh.

That's one we won't get a chance to read.

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