Bridges, James Q

Jim was one of my first friends when I moved to the Bay Area in 1981. We met through work, but our business relationship quickly became the least of our connections. Jim was lovable, funny and infinitely supportive of his friends, no matter how confused they were. In later years, I often joked that he was one of the 47,312 people who knew I was gay before I did. Jim took me to my first x-rated movie (a double bill of Deep Throat and Debbie Does Dallas, Part 2, at both of which we laughed uproariously and offended the serious fans of the genre). He didn't argue with me when I bemoaned the lack of available straight men, and didn't say I told you so when I figured out I was in love with a woman. We laughed and cried and gossiped together and even talked about co-parenting a child. Although he died 3 years before she was born, my daughter knows of him as Uncle Jim, and my mom still refers to him as darling Jim. I miss him.