
Bruce Kent died on July 4, 2019. Amy texted me to let me know on Saturday, while I was at American Mensa’s Annual Gathering, which was entirely appropriate.
Bruce was one of my best friends in Mensa. We met in 1990, and for more than a year, he visited my house at least once a week: for Greater New York Mensa’s Writers’ SIG, for our bi-monthly poker games, our monthly board meetings, occasional random parties… And when we weren’t getting together at home, it would be at the monthly speaker meetings, or the meetings of the Colley Cibber SIG at bars in Manhattan (organized by Ed Pell), and other events. Originally, we bonded over our publishing careers, but that was just the ice-breaker.
At the time, I was the editor of GNYM’s monthly newsletter, Mphasis. In 1992, I took office as President of GNYM, and Bruce succeeded me as editor, leading the newsletter in new directions. In 1994, during the Annual Gathering in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Bruce was appointed to the American Mensa Committee—the national board of directors—as Publications Officer, and Ed Pell succeeded him as the editor of Mphasis. But Bruce didn’t disappear from our local group; he remained part of the editorial triumvirate with Ed and Merrill Loechner.
About that time, Bruce met Amy, a Mensan friend of mine from the Boston area. It was only in retrospect that I realized Bruce wasn’t a very happy person. But from the time he met Amy, he was completely changed, much happier. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise when they announced their engagement, and then got married. Ed and I stood up with Bruce at their wedding.
Soon after the wedding, Bruce and Amy moved to Pittsburgh, and our relationship faded. Our contacts became infrequent, but later, thanks to Facebook, I was at least able to keep up with their lives. And though our contacts became more infrequent and tenuous, I was glad for him: every photo I saw, everything I read about him, showed that he was happy, very happy. So when I got Amy’s text Saturday morning that he was gone, my first thoughts were of great loss: the loss of Bruce, and the loss of the relationship we once had. But then I thought of how happy his life with Amy—and their daughter, Bridget—had made him, so I didn’t begrudge him one minute of our lost friendship. I was happy that he had been so happy.
But now he’s gone. Learning of his death turned the AG from a time of unrelenting excitement and exhaustion into a day of introspection and heavy thoughts. I spent that day thinking about Bruce, and soon those thoughts turned also to Ed (who died a year and a half ago). I remembered the photo of the three of us smiling in matching T-shirts, and the happiness that that photo shows me. And yet Bruce’s happiness (and Ed’s) both increased dramatically when they married (Amy and Diana) and moved out of New York City. So my thoughts turned to loss and gain: I’d lost the closeness I had with them both, but they each gained the happiness their lives deserved. So I’ll try to remember them as they were at the end: with the women they loved, and happy.
There’s another great, and really inexpensive, Fantastic Books title available from
Manhattan’s north-south roads are not oriented precisely north-south, nor do the east-west roads run exactly east-west. Actually, the entire arrangement is rotated 29 degrees clockwise of the true compass directions. As a result, the phenomenon Neil deGrasse Tyson has dubbed “Manhattanhenge” (when the setting sun sets at the end of the east-west streets, perfectly framed by the buildings) occurs at sunset about 24 days before and after the Summer Solstice (sunrise, on the east side, comes in December and January; much colder, and therefore much less popular). This year, the next occurrence will be July 12, at 8:20pm. Actually, the sunset occurs on the line on July 13, but on the 12th, the full sun will be visible down the street, while on the 13th, the half sun will be visible.
I took a break from the current freelance job to travel into Manhattan (again; last night was GNYM trivia) for the Asimov’s Anthology Launch at the Barnes & Noble on Broadway at 82nd Street. Walking from the subway, I passed a brownstone with a truly remarkable covering of ivy (see the pictures of the root stalk and the wreathing effect).

Then I walked Allen back to his hotel room, and we stopped off to get some snacks. Wouldn’t you know it? It takes a southerner to find out that Moon Pies are now available in New York City! Thanks for that, Allen.
After I dropped him off at the hotel, I walked across 79th Street toward a subway stop, and saw the pretty sunset sky down the street over New Jersey. So here are a few photos from the evening; now I really ought to get back to work.
Completely lost track of the calendar, but apparently today is publication day for my newest story,
Friday starts my fourth weekend in a row on the road. This time, it’s a science fiction convention: 
With illustrations by Pulitzer-prize winning cartoonist Darrin Bell, criminal defense attorney and author Michael A. Ventrella helps Liberals better understand the Constitution to debunk Conservative conspiracy theories, misinterpretations… and outright lies.