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Friday, November 22, 2024 at 2:04 PM
La Cima

Michael Jay Goodwin

In Mike’s own words:

In Mike’s own words:

“Obituary for Michael Jay Goodwin, AKA Hippy Mike, AKA Goody

Born March 12, 1950; Died December 26, 2021

“Tell the Devil that I’m getting there as fast as I can”

Ray Wylie Hubbard

I am preceded by brother Gib, nephew Derek, mother Franny, father Gene, and Granny Butchy. I am survived by sisters Sue and Geri and their children.

My Dad was a baggage handler, Air Force WWII veteran, head of the School of Journalism at Penn State University, lawn bowler, and editor of “Lawn Bowls USA”. My Mother was degreed, a home maker, artist, cartoonist, and a teacher (greater than Dad) for the community and family. Me, why I was a punk.

Me, why I was a punk. My hormone therapy has made me a much nicer guy. My resume has over 100 entries. I just couldn’t stick, although I did spend 9 years at Cypress Creek Café, 2.5 years at Wimberley Independent School District, and 20 years as a general contractor. I started as a paper boy, snow shoveler and lawn mower. My pinnacle was restauranteur, The Dog House in Wimberley and Taco Mike, an illegal roach coach in Colorado. As a professional dishwasher, I was able to travel and work across the western US. Finally, I was fired and retired from WISD (custodial) for any or no reason. I supplemented my income with metal scrapping (a euphemism for stealing abandoned property) and drug dealing.

I was raised in academia. My friends were sons and daughters of professors. We were a bunch of smug smart asses. I could take a test well, but forget homework. I was the poster child for missed opportunities. Mom told me I could do or be anything. What I wanted was to do drugs and be a stoner.

“It is better to keep your mouth shut and thought a fool than to open it and be proven a fool.”

Unknown

I’ve been told if I hold my jaw a certain way, I look intelligent. Let me assure you, most times only white noise is in my head and a little voice saying “get beer, get beer”. I have tried to approach life as a student and as the son of a journalist. I have tried to be objective, even the devil’s advocate. My interests were music, nature, beer, food, birds, TV, insects, humor, dogs; and did I say nature?

So long it’s been good to know you, … well, some of you.

In lieu of flowers or donations, think of me whenever you partake. Here’s one for the dead brothers and sisters. Skoal!”

In addition, in his will Mike directed a donation to the Wimberley library and would surely appreciate any other donations there.


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