Kirk Hiner's

"When thinking differently just isn't different enough."

Douglas Noel Adams: 1952 - 2001

By Kirk Hiner

No there's no logic to this - who's picked to stay or go
If you think too hard it only makes you mad

- Lou Reed; "No Chance" - Magic and Loss

I guess I'm now at the age when events such as those of Friday evening will start happening with greater frequency. To me, that's the only curse of growing older. I can deal with losing my hair, with throwing out my back by simply picking up a dog, with dozing off during late night Godzilla festivals. What I can't deal with are the deaths of those I've grown up admiring. Andre the Giant, Freddie Mercury, Jim Henson, Owen Hart...all of them entertained me. All of them and many others gave me something to which I could look forward, something upon which I could depend when those closer to me let me down. And Friday evening I added one more name to the list of those who left us too soon...Douglas Adams.

The death of Mr. Adams is especially hard for me to accept because he--perhaps more than anyone else--helped to shape who I am. It has he, after all, who showed me that good literature could also be entertaining; that writing could actually be fun. Don't get me wrong, I'd enjoyed many books before I first picked up The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, but it was that book alone that convinced me I needed try this writing business myself.

I can remember it as clearly as I can remember Zaphod's speech at the christening of the Heart of Gold. I was junior high age, and I'd just left Dan Kreis' house with his copy of Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide. I was reading the book as I walked down the sidewalk (a habit I continue to this day), and by the time I reached the second page, I was laughing out loud. Before the first chapter had finished, I knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my life; I wanted to write.

But this is nothing out of the norm. Certainly just about any writer can tell you which author or book or sentence or word convinced him he had to do the same. But with me, Douglas Adams went far beyond that; his characters gave me and many of my friends an entire outlook on life. Perhaps it was just my pubescent state at the time, but I spent my days either not understanding, ignoring or hating life. Then, along came my favorite Douglas Adams character, Ford Prefect, who pretty much bounced through life with a wide-eyed cynicism that helped him to cope with any situation the universe threw his way. He accepted nearly everything as just another odd entry in the book after which the novel was named. It was, after all, his job. To Ford, the universe was there simply to be written about, not feared or conquered.

As a result, I no longer fear life, and I no longer want to conquer it. I don't try to make sense of it, I just observe it, and I cover it. Here's life, it makes no sense to me, tell me what you think. In my opinion, it's extremely absurd.

Simplifying it to the extreme, I feel this was the same thing Mr. Adams did for us. Whether he was taking us to English flats with sofas stuck in the stair well, interstellar restaurants to see the end of universe, or the lairs of endangered animals for fear that we may never see them again, Mr. Adams presented us with a universe that made no sense, and one that was only complicated more by those who tried to make it work. But he also gave us hope. It was, after all, a sofa, a universe, and an animal worth saving.

As fans of Douglas Adams and/or Apple computer know, he was also a large proponent of the Macintosh. Aside from being an Apple Master, Mr. Adams worked hard to ensure his games such as Starship Titanic saw a Macintosh release. Mac users are all the better for it. Starship Titanic is quite possibly the greatest adventure game ever made, and his "subtle" style of Mac evangelism ("Why does anybody use anything else?") helped to keep writers like myself inspired during times of Apple-woe.

Although I no longer have any new works to which I can look forward, Mr. Adams has left us an amazing catalog of material that I'll get to rediscover over and over again, and I greatly look forward to reading the novels of the countless authors he has inspired.

And to be honest, Mr. Adams' legacy will not be the works he left behind, but the relationships spawned by those works. Quite often, a shared love for his books was the commonality that led to many friendships I still hold today. My sympathies now go out to those privileged enough to call Mr. Adams a friend. Missing his works will be hard enough, but to miss him as a person, that must be devastating. My thoughts and prayers are with his family, his friends, and all those who knew him. I can only hope the knowledge that millions of fans share your grief will help you to shoulder it.

So this week, I'll pull Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency down from the shelf yet again, or maybe I'll reinstall Starship Titanic and engage in more conversations with old Nobbie the LiftBot. And in between and throughout life, I'll heed Mr. Adams' advice and be a little more careful with this "mostly harmless" planet. Right now, however, I'll continue listening to Lou Reed...

There's a bit of magic in everything
And then some loss to even things out

Thank you, Douglas, for providing us with that magic. It's that alone which enables us to suffer through this loss. I hope now you've finally figured out the Question, and that you remembered your towel.

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