Year: 2009

The last 72 hours have been a particularly hard, emotional roller coaster on my very dear friend Desiree Wynder and her family.  As reported in the local news this week Desiree’s brother, Ian Quick, known to everyone locally as Spyk, was killed by a hit and run driver while riding his street legal scooter (not a moped) on I-40 near Gorman Street.  I first met Spyk when he first moved to Raleigh which was about two years ago despite media reports that he was in the area “about a year”.

When the story was initially reported in the news on Monday the driver of the Yellow Xterra that hit Spyk had not been identified.  The police told Desiree and her mother, Heidi, that there was a 72 hour window before most of the leads could dry up and the trail could go cold.  The detectives were up against the clock.  Desiree worked diligently with law enforcement and the media to keep Spyk’s story in the headlines so people would be on the lookout for the Xterra.

Spyk was a cook at The Raleigh Times Bar where he was adored by his co-workers and the patrons.  The management at the Times agreed to pay for all of the funeral expenses and then organized a memorial, which was held last night, not only to honor Spyk but also to provide more media coverage to find the hit and run driver.  It may have worked faster than anyone expected.

As the memorial got underway I was talking with Desiree at the bar.  She went to talk to her grandfather and returned just moments later and told me “they found him”.  Just as she was telling me this her phone rang.  It was the lead detective on the case letting her know the information she had was correct.  I asked her twice “what’s his name”?  “Gavin Hawk” she repeated as the officer told her.  The timing was uncanny. The 48 hour mark, the window of time in which most cases are solved, was quickly approaching.

Twenty eight year-old Gavin Clifford Hawk was previously convicted on January 28, 2008 of a Class H Felony for “speeding to elude arrest” according to the NC Dept. of Corrections Offenders web site.  Gavin obviously has a history of driving irresponsibly and then racing away from the scene.  So it’s time for the book to be thrown.  The cowardly son of a bitch also tried to slit his wrists before his arrest.  I wish he’d succeeded and save the courts time and money.

Watching Heidi’s tears turn from anger and sorrow to joy, if only for a moment, was a life event I will never forget.  We drank to Spyk and we drank to Gavin Hawks arrest.  Spyk can rest knowing that his killer has been apprehended.  My faith in our local judicial system is weak but I hope that for once, in this instance, Gavin Hawk grows old in prison.  His life should be over for the selfish crime he committed against a man who is one thousand times the person he is.  You shouldn’t have run Gavin.  You will pay a heavy price for your continuous, cowardly acts.  Although I considered including Gavin’s picture in this post, I will not do him the honor.  The goal moving forward is to remember Spyk and forget the coward who killed him as he rots in the NC prison system.

Forgive this blatant rant but this word has been bothering me for a few years since it became trendy again. I don’t know why and I can’t explain it. I can’t stand to read it or have it go through my head for any reason. I can’t tolerate typing it and God forbid I’m ever forced to say it. It’s appearing more and more frequently and I can’t escape it. Arrrrggggg!!!

It’s a slack, uncreative replacement for “delicious”.  I wish the resurgence of this word propagated by soccer moms would go back to the late 50’s where it came from. What’s next?  Should I be on the look out for “swell”. And then there’s the whole Yummy Mummy thing. What, MILF was too disturbing for the PC crowd so they found something kid safe to describe hot moms? You know who you are.

It’s bad enough when soccer moms invoke the word “yummy” in any context but  professionals reviewing recipes should avoid it like the kiss of death. Any adult male who dares use the word deserves to be castrated for the greater good. It’s just not allowed. I’m warning ya, don’t do it or I’ll buy you a pink tutu and a tricycle and force you to ride it down I-540 at 4:30 on a Thursday afternoon. You will also be required to wear a sign everywhere for three months that says “Yummy Twinkle Boy”.

There you have it, my least favorite word to resurrect itself from the days of Ozzie and Harriet. Isn’t that swell?