The Tragic Death Of Philippe Rock

The Tragic Death Of Philippe Rock, a photo by hbmike2000 on Flickr.

I first met Philippe in the desert just outside of the Palm Springs Tram. He was sitting there next to a million and half of his closest friends, smiling quietly and enjoying the sun. I struck up a conversation with him and we became best friends instantly. He rode around on my shoe as I hiked the long 50 foot dusty dry trail through the desert. Parched and out of breath, I stopped next to a steep canyon to enjoy the view. Philippe, down so low he couldn't see what I was seeing, begged to come up to my level. So I flipped him up like a hard, dirty hacky sack with a quick flip of my foot and over the canyon wall he went. I watched horrified has he went over the side, his shiny bits flashing in the harsh sun as he rolled down the side like a tumbleweed on crack. Finally, he crashed to the bottom of the canyon with a quiet little thud. I looked down at him, still, lifeless, not moving. I cried for a second, waved down to him, yelled, I LOVE YOU PHILIPPE ROCK!, then turned and walked away. I placed a little cross made of sticks and wild flowers next to the spot where he went over so the next time you go to the Palm Springs Tram, look for it, stop and pay your respect for the tragic death of Philippe Rock.

View on black or I'll Philippe you over the cliff.

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