Matthew E. Cobble

Born: On His Birthday | Passed: When He Did

Blah blah, formal stuff, blah blah. Yes, I was born on my birthday, and I died whatever day that was. I don’t know, I’m dead.

I spent a good chunk of my life serving in the US Navy, which, yes, means I was tougher and cooler than you. After retiring, I somehow ended up working for the geniuses who looked each other in the eyes and said “you know what the world needs? Windows 8.” I showed up anyway. That’s called discipline. Look it up.

When I wasn’t defending democracy or suffering through bad product decisions, you could find me out with my motorcycle club, which was exactly as cool as it sounds. I also spent a deeply unreasonable amount of time 3D printing – specifically Marvel-themed items, because if you’re going to fill your home with plastic, you might as well fill it with heroes.

I spoke a second language of sarcasm. Shamelessly, unapologetically, lovingly sarcastic. I appreciated Bill Murray on a spiritual level. If you knew me, you already know why. If you didn’t know me, just watch Groundhog Day, Caddyshack and Rushmore back to back and you’ll get it.
I want you to know that the fact that you’re reading this hoping to find out how I died says a lot about you. Not great things, but a lot of things. I’m gone and I’m still not telling you.

To my kids – yes, I know. I said I’d pay for college. I said I’d show up for things. I had a whole collection of dad jokes I was saving for important occasions. I had every intention of delivering on all of it. But here we are. It is what it is. You got the Navy moving all the time (you liked Hawaii!), my many Navy deployments, and the sarcasm – honestly that’s a solid inheritance. I love you more than any of that, and you know it.
Since I am sure you came here for some type of gossip, here it is so you can have something to talk about on social media.
To Jo, who despite everything, somehow ended up handling all of my final arrangements. And not because she volunteered. She had to find out she was still my emergency contact the hard way, with zero warning and zero instructions to work from. Just a late-night police notice and a mess. That was a spectacular ass move on my part and I fully own it. She didn’t have to do any of it. She did it anyway, completely blind, figuring it out as she went. If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about her, I don’t know what will. Jo, you’re a better person than me. We always knew it. It’s in writing now.

To the rest of you – Go ride something. 3D Print something. Watch Bill Murray. ‘Mercia

Stop reading.

No, seriously.

It is literally the end.