To Klaus

Art by Klaus Schmidt aka Shitt Van Toplitz

I never forget the day I met Klaus. I was pretty drunk as usual, so things might be a bit foggy. Klaus was a professor of the English language and a wonderful artist. My friend, who's name I don't recall, was smitten by Klaus and wanted me to accompany her to his studio. He opened the door for us. A tall, thin man, dressed in black. A room with black curtains, a strange altar in the middle. My friend just stood in the doorway. I needed to sit to keep from swaying, plus I was in dire need of another drink. Klaus watched me as I flopped on his coffin. What? I looked at him and said: "Is this wrong of me? I need a drink and I am tired!" Klaus was overjoyed with happiness. He found a soul mate that day.
He used to come to the bar I called my home and he did not approve of my friends. He protested so much so, that one night he started a fight and of course he came out bruised. Klaus knew I was no fan of hard work. Klaus felt the constant need to protect me. He was my best friend. He saw my possibilities, my flaws, he saw and called it all. Nothing more precious than a friend who tells the truth.
The day came when I wanted to leave the country I grew up in. Klaus, my mom and dad tried to plead with me to stay. I still see me standing in that phone booth at that street corner, near my bar, Klaus on the other end of the line and me just ignoring him. I always ignored the best people.
We stayed in touch, we lost touch, I returned 10 years later. I called his number and we picked up like it had been just yesterday. He was the same Klaus I knew, he still did not eat, he still began his day with a drink. He still had the ladies in total awe. My friend Angie hung on to every word he spoke like he was some God. We ended our night in some bar, and Klaus gently put his arm around me and said: It was wonderful to see you again my friend, may I now tell you what a big jerk you once were? I will always love Klaus and his total honesty. We stayed in touch a little more after that visit and he sent me many of his sketches. In his last letter he told me about his plans to open a show in NY, his move to Berlin.
I never heard from Klaus again and all my attempts to find him were unsuccessful. I have his pictures all over my house and Klaus will forever stay in my heart as my best friend in Europe.