I met Robert Lee while working in Dallas, Texas.  That was well over 25 years ago.  In retrospect, it was not that long after I got out of the Army.  The Vietnam era was still fresh on our minds.  At least to those of us who came of age during that era.  Robert claimed to be originally from Shreveport, Louisiana.  He says he had a background in textile work before moving to Dallas and then finding work in the emerging parks and recreation industry that was burgeoning in the North Texas area.  The growing season was almost year-round and the population was booming as well.  I guess that's part of what brought both of us to that part of the county.  The late 1970s was a time of near economic depression in parts of America.  North Texas was an exception.  
The park and recreation, landscape industry was full of characters.  Robert had a knack for sniffing them out and reflecting his wit off of them.  Here is some of Robert Lee's stuff:  
   If you where a bit of a toad of a person you where a "spool-mouth."  If you sought the romantic favors of a co-worker you would eventually be pulled aside by Robert and warned, "don't put your manhood in your pay check."  "It is a sorry man that does not learn at least one thing a day."  And, segueing off that, "each person, even the sorry ones, have something to offer and it is up to you to find it."  My favorite creed to live by from Robert, "never make people just hate to see you coming."  Robert always insisted a person needs to be aware of the world around them - "one must be self aware."  He maintained you need to be empathetic with other people around you.  "You may be joking in the lunch room about stupid kids and the guy at the end of the table may have just lost a child to cancer or some other disease recently."  Apparently both scenarios applied to Robert.  He had both been a jokester unaware of another's plight, and then later he himself lost a child to illness.  And finally, when Robert Lee would leave, he would often say, "I'll be back in a bit with my tap measure because I'm going to be doing some check'n and level'n around here."
   Robert often told the story of his first wife who he frequently argued with.  When he got his draft notice in 1967 the whole family was crying.  The military draft was in full swing in 1967 as the war in Vietnam and the Cold War in Europe was putting troop levels at an all time high in both parts of the world.  A lot of military draftees were ending up in Vietnam.  His wife, his in laws, his mother, and even his kids were crying as he tells it.  So he went down to the draft board and then to the physical exam.  And low and behold he had a bad bone in his foot.  He never got drafted because of that bad foot.  But, that did not help his marital situation and the arguments with his wife got worse.  One night she hit him with a pan as he tried to get in the window after she locked him out.  Finally, one night she shot him.  Every time he told the story he pointed to where the bullet was still lodged.  He would always end the story with, "Damn, Bob.  I should have went to 'Nam' after all.  I would have been better off over there in a war zone."
   Robert Lee once came to my defense on mid-afternoon at work when an 18 year old co-worker said in a snotty, condescending tone, "you smell like alcohol."  You may or may not remember there was a time in America when people might indulge in a beer or Margarita with lunch occasionally.  Often co-workers would go together.  God forbid sometimes the boss would buy.  Now days in the murky world of the political-correctness, fun-removal police, a lot of things are not done any more.  This new guy was on the cusp of the generation that was schooled in the new social order that began to emerge in the late 1970s and mid-1980s.  This crop of socially engineered kids was bound and determined to eliminate everything they perceived as bad out of our lives - tobacco, alcohol, fast food, dangerous activities, playground equipment, and god knows what else.  Their legacy continues to haunt us to this day as one social activity after another falls prey to their relentless pursuit of paradise.  Anyway, Robert intervened in a micro-second to the rude comment and said to the young utopian, "fool, if you worked in this crazy place for 20 years like we have had to do you would smell like alcohol by mid-afternoon too."  The young social-conduct warrior's spirit was crushed in an instant.  Here's to you Robert, I hope you are well and ok.