LouDeeter
08-07-2019, 02:02 PM
I came across this post from last month that I think will resonate here as Joe Bell tells of his memories with Bruce Gordon.
On Wednesday, July 10, 2019 at 5:41:23 AM UTC-7, joebell1977 wrote:
Hi everybody,
It has been several years since I dropped by here, and I won't be able to stay very long because of 'mi vida loca', but I wanted to say a few things about my friend Bruce and felt that I should put it out there now before I forget it. This may get a bit long, so please forgive my indulgence as I am speaking from the heart.
In the late 1980's, Bill Holland, Brian Baylis, Richard Sachs and I rolled into Long Beach from San Diego to take in the annual Bicycle Dealer trade show.
Richard told me that I should stop at BG's booth and introduce myself because he said we looked a lot alike.
I cruised the aisles until I found Bruce's spot and I asked the man in the booth if BG was around.
He replied "Nope, he went out back to take a **** and the hogs ate him". Being a bit naive and not knowing exactly what to say, I replied "Okay, I'm sorry I missed him" and started to walk away. The man said "Wait, I'm Bruce". Somehow, I did not notice that I was looking at my brother from another mother.
I told him what RS had said and Bruce said that he did notice a bit of a resemblance.
We hit it off right away and became buddies for life. There was no initiation rite for me to get into his inner circle. I believe he thought this might be a good opportunity for him to mess with people, and we did just that. For the next decade or so, I would see him at bike shows, we would trade glasses and I would man his booth as Bruce Gordon and he would stand off to the side and watch as the charade unfolded. It worked on a lot of people and many times double takes and hilarity were the order of the day.
Sometimes we would wear the same shirt and look like twins. Occasionally people would ask me technical questions about frame building and I would have to BS my way through the conversation, much to Bruce's amusement.
Sometimes Bruce and I would walk around and we would stop at one of the intersections in the hall. Bruce would start an argument with me about the reasons that 'Mom liked you best'. I had to play along, so we would banter and spar with childish accusations and silly reasons why I was the favored one.
This would all be done somewhat loudly, attracting stares and shaking heads from passersby.
One time it got to the point where some bike shop owner's wife with an 'I'd like to speak to your manager' hairstyle finally said "What is wrong with you two?"
We stopped and looked at her as if she had just interrupted a very public family spat. We walked a few steps away and Bruce gave me a sideways glance and smiled.
These kinds of shenanigans were right up Bruce's alley and he liked the diversion from the boredom that comes with these kinds of events. A few years later, Bruce asked me to hang with him and his friends after the show for some beers. He said it would be fun. After the show, I met up with him and his pals. It was his SOPWAMTOS gang. I followed as Bruce and his merry band of fez wearing flying monkeys paraded out of the hall and hogged the entire sidewalk all eight blocks to what had to be Anaheim's least expensive motel, where the SOPWAMTOS crew was holed up.
It was here that I received my very own 'Golden Toidy'. I did nothing to deserve this honor other than benefiting from the coincidence of our similar handsomeness.
He was right. We had fun. My award hangs proudly above the door of our shop dumpatorium.
One year, Bruce heard that I had grown a beard, so when I arrived at the show, there was Bruce, with a beard that looked pretty much just like mine.
I probably should not have been surprised. He was really having fun continuing this game.
I will not try to list Bruce's palmares in the custom bicycle world. They are too numerous to recount here and I am not qualified to elucidate on his many innovations.
I will say that his collaboration with Mike Lopez on his titanium lugged, carbon tubed bicycle may have been his magnum opus. It is a magnificent work of art, machining and frame building skill that is stunningly beautiful on the outside, but has so much more going on the inside that nobody can see. Only a handful of people know what went in to that frame. There are only two. The other one is Mike's. I think Bruce made them because somebody told him that he couldn't do it.
Over the years Bruce had become cynical about the hand built bicycle world that he had given his life to. He lamented the fact that a skilled frame builder at the top of his game could not make half of what a mediocre attorney could earn. This gnawed at him and his observation that the difference between a large cheese pizza and a frame builder was that the pizza could feed a family of four made me laugh, but it had a ring of truth to it.
I stopped going to shows several years ago and would see Bruce only occasionally. Sometimes he would call to ask how things were going. It was always good to hear from him, but he was burning out. A few years ago, Bruce fell off his bike and was no longer comfortable riding. He walked with a cane and was having difficulty coming to terms with aging out of the game. An attempt was made to sell his business, but when the artisan is gone, there are only well used tools and machines left. Not much value there.
When the hand built show came to Sacramento last March, I decided to go because it was sort of in the neighborhood. When I saw Bruce, it was clear that he had aged. The sparkle in his eye was gone and his light was dimming. Others noticed it, too. We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant with his ever faithful lieutenant Paul Sadoff and two of Paul's friends. The food was good and we had a couple of house margaritas. Bruce seemed happy to see old friends again and we laughed about the old times. There was a SOPWAMTOS party at a dive bar that evening and Bruce was a bit subdued, but clearly the man of the evening. I hung out in the back of the room to avoid the mosh pit and loudness. Bruce and I saw each other and raised our PBR cans in salutation.
I was surprised when I heard the news of Bruce's passing. I thought he still had some gas left in the tank. I think that some artists know when they have given it everything and there is nothing left. When your spark is no longer there, time gets short, and perhaps Bruce knew this.
I like to think Bruce is somewhere else now, his spirit flying high, excited about his new world, all physical limitations gone.
Godspeed Bruce, wherever you are. You will be remembered.
Joe Bell
San Diego, Ca.
On Wednesday, July 10, 2019 at 5:41:23 AM UTC-7, joebell1977 wrote:
Hi everybody,
It has been several years since I dropped by here, and I won't be able to stay very long because of 'mi vida loca', but I wanted to say a few things about my friend Bruce and felt that I should put it out there now before I forget it. This may get a bit long, so please forgive my indulgence as I am speaking from the heart.
In the late 1980's, Bill Holland, Brian Baylis, Richard Sachs and I rolled into Long Beach from San Diego to take in the annual Bicycle Dealer trade show.
Richard told me that I should stop at BG's booth and introduce myself because he said we looked a lot alike.
I cruised the aisles until I found Bruce's spot and I asked the man in the booth if BG was around.
He replied "Nope, he went out back to take a **** and the hogs ate him". Being a bit naive and not knowing exactly what to say, I replied "Okay, I'm sorry I missed him" and started to walk away. The man said "Wait, I'm Bruce". Somehow, I did not notice that I was looking at my brother from another mother.
I told him what RS had said and Bruce said that he did notice a bit of a resemblance.
We hit it off right away and became buddies for life. There was no initiation rite for me to get into his inner circle. I believe he thought this might be a good opportunity for him to mess with people, and we did just that. For the next decade or so, I would see him at bike shows, we would trade glasses and I would man his booth as Bruce Gordon and he would stand off to the side and watch as the charade unfolded. It worked on a lot of people and many times double takes and hilarity were the order of the day.
Sometimes we would wear the same shirt and look like twins. Occasionally people would ask me technical questions about frame building and I would have to BS my way through the conversation, much to Bruce's amusement.
Sometimes Bruce and I would walk around and we would stop at one of the intersections in the hall. Bruce would start an argument with me about the reasons that 'Mom liked you best'. I had to play along, so we would banter and spar with childish accusations and silly reasons why I was the favored one.
This would all be done somewhat loudly, attracting stares and shaking heads from passersby.
One time it got to the point where some bike shop owner's wife with an 'I'd like to speak to your manager' hairstyle finally said "What is wrong with you two?"
We stopped and looked at her as if she had just interrupted a very public family spat. We walked a few steps away and Bruce gave me a sideways glance and smiled.
These kinds of shenanigans were right up Bruce's alley and he liked the diversion from the boredom that comes with these kinds of events. A few years later, Bruce asked me to hang with him and his friends after the show for some beers. He said it would be fun. After the show, I met up with him and his pals. It was his SOPWAMTOS gang. I followed as Bruce and his merry band of fez wearing flying monkeys paraded out of the hall and hogged the entire sidewalk all eight blocks to what had to be Anaheim's least expensive motel, where the SOPWAMTOS crew was holed up.
It was here that I received my very own 'Golden Toidy'. I did nothing to deserve this honor other than benefiting from the coincidence of our similar handsomeness.
He was right. We had fun. My award hangs proudly above the door of our shop dumpatorium.
One year, Bruce heard that I had grown a beard, so when I arrived at the show, there was Bruce, with a beard that looked pretty much just like mine.
I probably should not have been surprised. He was really having fun continuing this game.
I will not try to list Bruce's palmares in the custom bicycle world. They are too numerous to recount here and I am not qualified to elucidate on his many innovations.
I will say that his collaboration with Mike Lopez on his titanium lugged, carbon tubed bicycle may have been his magnum opus. It is a magnificent work of art, machining and frame building skill that is stunningly beautiful on the outside, but has so much more going on the inside that nobody can see. Only a handful of people know what went in to that frame. There are only two. The other one is Mike's. I think Bruce made them because somebody told him that he couldn't do it.
Over the years Bruce had become cynical about the hand built bicycle world that he had given his life to. He lamented the fact that a skilled frame builder at the top of his game could not make half of what a mediocre attorney could earn. This gnawed at him and his observation that the difference between a large cheese pizza and a frame builder was that the pizza could feed a family of four made me laugh, but it had a ring of truth to it.
I stopped going to shows several years ago and would see Bruce only occasionally. Sometimes he would call to ask how things were going. It was always good to hear from him, but he was burning out. A few years ago, Bruce fell off his bike and was no longer comfortable riding. He walked with a cane and was having difficulty coming to terms with aging out of the game. An attempt was made to sell his business, but when the artisan is gone, there are only well used tools and machines left. Not much value there.
When the hand built show came to Sacramento last March, I decided to go because it was sort of in the neighborhood. When I saw Bruce, it was clear that he had aged. The sparkle in his eye was gone and his light was dimming. Others noticed it, too. We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant with his ever faithful lieutenant Paul Sadoff and two of Paul's friends. The food was good and we had a couple of house margaritas. Bruce seemed happy to see old friends again and we laughed about the old times. There was a SOPWAMTOS party at a dive bar that evening and Bruce was a bit subdued, but clearly the man of the evening. I hung out in the back of the room to avoid the mosh pit and loudness. Bruce and I saw each other and raised our PBR cans in salutation.
I was surprised when I heard the news of Bruce's passing. I thought he still had some gas left in the tank. I think that some artists know when they have given it everything and there is nothing left. When your spark is no longer there, time gets short, and perhaps Bruce knew this.
I like to think Bruce is somewhere else now, his spirit flying high, excited about his new world, all physical limitations gone.
Godspeed Bruce, wherever you are. You will be remembered.
Joe Bell
San Diego, Ca.