The Last Best Place: Our Wonkparty In Montana This Saturday, Hello Baby, And Goodbye Friend
For Fukui whenever we may find him.
Well my dear terrible ones, things are terrible once again. As many of you have already heard, our comrade Fukui whatever the hell the rest of his name is has fallen. And he was a true friend. He made some of you mad, he made some of you FURIOUS, he made you laugh like the dickens, which is not a thing that laughs, to my knowledge. He was also quick to help. He’d call you, on the telephone even, or he’d send you a buck if you needed it.
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And while I’m pondering this awful news, I’m sitting here in Montana, where Shy, Donna Rose, and I have come to see our new grandchild Lucy Rae, and every time we look up at the Mission Mountains, Shy mumbles, “I am trying very hard to remember why we left.” Oh darling, it was the racism and all the terrible people! Remember? Have Shy and a granddaughter.
And now have her pretty mama who isn’t usually making that stupid face, and this dumb lake.
Look how dumb that lake is. That lake should make you angry, if you are like me, and too much beauty just makes you fuckin’ mad.
And so this is just a crazy mishmash, the heart-stopping beauty, the elation of a new good baby, the peace of watching my children be happy, the sadness for a friend — and knowing you are all sad and so far away while I’m feeling terrible about living it up and Life’s a Beach.
We are having our Missoula, Montana, party this Saturday, 3:00-6:00 p.m., at Caras Park. (I’ll be there early since Dok told you all it was at 2:00.) Look for our banner. It’s potluck! And we will kiss you on your faces and be so happy to see you. I know Fukui threw down for a monthly meeting in San Francisco; the next one would take place on Friday, Aug. 21, at the Hyatt Embarcadero. I think you can count on seeing us there.
Find (or throw!) a Wonkette party near you. See your friends in real life. We’ll be waiting for you.
Parties upcoming! MISSOULA (July 25), CLEVELAND (Aug. 8) AND PITTSBURGH (Aug. 9), newly added WINDSOR, MASS (camp near but not at Paul and Holly’s, Labor Day weekend), and SONOMA/SF (Nov. 30)! Atlanta has been postponed. TIME TO PARTY!
And here is what Fukui’s wife, Judy Reimann, wrote for the surgeons so they’d know the guy whose kidneys were about to go on and help two more people.
Gavin William Ashdown
1973 - 2026
Gavin was the firstborn son of Leonard and Tricia Ashdown. He was born in Chelmsford, Essex, UK and grew up in the village of Bearsted. Always a very intelligent and mischievous lad, he found himself banned from the school computer room as a young teen when he managed to hack into the school’s administration software and change some test grades for his mates.
He attended Oxford University for a masters yet managed to flunk an anatomy exam, so he left. He also studied at Brunel University, but never managed to get his degree. I used to joke that he flunked out of some the most prestigious universities in the United Kingdom.
He worked for several different gaming companies as a developer. One project was the official 1996 Olympic video game for when the Olympics were held in Atlanta. He also worked on Nick Faldo‘s Golf, and had nothing good to say about Faldo. When I told Gav recently that it was *Sir* Nick Faldo, he ranted for a good five minutes.
Gav left the gaming world for his own IT support company, which he ran for nearly 17 years, before moving to the United States. He started working for several different medical companies as a manager of software teams. He truly enjoyed mentoring his colleagues and helping them grow their skills. One of his last and favorite activities was volunteering with Black Girls Code, which provides classes in software development to young African American girls. He often complained of seeing “too many white guys with beards” in his Zoom meetings throughout his career.
Gav was always generous with his time and talents whenever he was needed. His neighbors loved him as an affable, friendly fellow. One time near our house he came upon a young woman who had car trouble. As he was assisting her, she told him she had been waiting for 40 minutes and he was the only person to stop and help her despite it being a busy street.
Gav would often chat online with a group of commenters from a snarky website. He sent out spare laptops to people who couldn’t afford a new one. He would often give his number out privately to these internet strangers if he thought that they were struggling emotionally. I witnessed him call out-of-state first responders to do wellness checks on people he thought were in crisis.
Gav was quick to pick up a restaurant check or a bar bill. He would often give away some of our Giant season tickets and give out access to the Gotham Club when feasible.
Gav was funny and fearless (except when it came to heights). He loved fiercely and was passionate about F1 racing, and even co-owned a Radical SR 1 that he and his friend would take to track days all around California. A special thrill for him was driving the car at Laguna Seca.
He loved to travel and watching Turner Classic Movies. As he lay on the hospital bed in the ICU, I reminded him of the end of Dark Passage, where Humphrey Bogart tells Lauren Bacall to get a map of South America and locate Paita, Peru. He tells her to meet him at a little cafe by the bay. I told Gav that it may be some time, but I’ll meet him there.
As the song says, he’s too marvelous for words.
The thread is OPEN.
We are made of stars, some with hearts that make the light all the more brilliant. I’m choosing to believe that a little bit of Fukui’s stardust lives on in Wonkette grandbabies, his organ donation recipients, and all the young Black women coders he proudly helped mentor.
Gav Ashdown was truly one of a kind, I am lucky to have had him for a friend. Most of my memories of him are of him making me laugh.
Second star to the right, Gav, and don't lift on Turn Three.