Roger Dojer's Obituary
Roger Dojer, Born 2010, Died 2011.
Solid as a Rock
Roger was born in Coos Bay in 1939. He joined the Navy after High School and retired after twenty years of service. Returning to the PNW, he hired on at a Portland Iron Works and worked another twenty till his IRA was fully vested. Early in his career, he earned a Ph.D. in Preventative Maintenance from the Navy’s prestigious SWAB University. Living the easy life as a double retiree lasted for a glorious three months as his wife planned her divorce escape with lawyer Gagey Linguica.
Roger’s settlement included a stinging nettle shirt which he was to wear for six months. He was stripped of all his assets except three Harleys, two dune buggies, a his and hers set of ski-doos and a Kenworth 18 wheeler converted into a traveling micro-brewery. In that sad condition, Roger decided to brew beer and party as long as the gas supply holds out.
After the divorce, Roger rented a room from Tommy, who at the time was dock superintendent for many of the iron shipments Roger’s old company had made. Roger described Tommy as having that essential characteristic that makes difference between iron and pig-iron. Southwick moved in shortly afterward, materializing in St. John’s after an unfortunate incident with a Balrog. The three formed the triangle of the Hindu Gunas: Satvik, Rajasik and Tamasik: loosly translated as goody-goody, solid-solid and crazy-crazy.
After finding Tommy’s ear-prints on his door, Roger decided to get a second Ph.D. in Minding Your Own Business from an on-line University.
One day, when the supply of toilet paper ran out, Tommy used Roger’s good name instead.
At this, Roger reluctantly said good-bye to his landlord. It was a touching farewell, like losing the essential neutron that holds the atom together. Roger’s ski-doos had formed a romantic bond with Tommy’s 26 foot 1000hp Chris-Craft. Heartbroken, the Chris-Craft was never able to start ever again. Tommy wept openly, Southwick smudged the place and kissed rocks in the corners of the room. All three danced a sailor’s dance on Tommy’s grave plot and sanctified it with rum that had passed through their kidneys.
Roger left for life in Coos Bay to complete his Ph.D. in MYOB and pursue a life long passion to pretend to sing —Friend, It’s something the really, really drunk do: It’s like vocal beer glasses. If you drink enough, you sing better and better. It’s magic, try it,Friend. You can even end up in the morning with some stupid song ringing in your head in time to the throb in your eyes accompanied by that corn cob rasp in your throat. Thus is born Karaoke.
The highest accolade in Karaoke is to sing “I did it Myyyyyyyyyyyyyyy way” horribly off-key and actually make it through the night alive. Roger was too smart to actually sing that song in public, but his private goal was to affirm his life spirit through alcohol enhanced song.
During Roger’s private practice sessions, he made the fatal mistake of many Pacific Northwest residents: that the alien abductions we read about are not abductions in the sky at all! The aliens are really fungus beneath our feet and use their filaments to probe our bodies. Most of these fungal colony colonoscopies give the victim a feeling of being inspected by cute metallic big-eyed children of Twiggy and the Elephant man. This is the way fungus misleads us to hide the truth.
However, evidence like Roger’s fungus encrusted body show the real situation. They heard and gave his performance the fungal “thumbs down.” In drier climates, the fungus would have been able to burn the evidence under the guise of “Spontaneous Human Combustion.” In the PNW, however, combustion is nearly impossible during the any day that ends in a ‘y.’
The evidence is clear. The Great Pacific Northwest Fungal Mat has more power as a critic than Roger Ebert. Don’t be the next victim.
Roger’s hobbies included finding a woman his age who was not in an iron lung and riding his beloved man-toy vehicles. Roger is survived by everyone.
R.I.P. Roger Dojer. We have lost stability and replaced it with … Um. Replaced with … Um.
Friend, I’ll get back to you with that.