Dec. 1, 1953 – Dec. 18, 2013
A great gathering of old friends turned up for Randy’s funeral on Monday, January 6th, including a host of folks from yesteryear, which gave solace and helped us get through the sad event. Ten kilometers east as the crow flies, the Monday Hash was celebrating their 30th anniversary and, concurrently, acknowledging Randy’s passing too; after all he also had been a part of that organization.
Randy’s final rites took place at Wat Dham Samakee, opposite South Road on the other side of Sukhumvit. Previously, this wat was also the site for the funerals of Tim Shekel and Jakob.
Randall Blacet, aka Dr. Doom scored forty-five Stableford points to win the coveted 2004 TQ Masters Green Jacket.
Randy used to do his weekly shopping religiously at Foodland, which was also where his accident occurred. Reps from this supermarket were at the wat for each of the 3 nights, including the cremation on the 4th day, which we thought was a class act on their part.
Randal Douglas Blacet, aka, Randy, or Dr. Doom, met his Doomsday on Wednesday, December 18th, the day of the Fountain of Life Center Christmas celebration, where we were when the news came. The mishap had happened 17 days after his 60th birthday.
He is survived by his daughter, Marilyn, here, his daughter, Taylor, and brother Jeff, both in the States, a few exes here and there, and a vast circle of friends.
Randy hailed from Oklahoma and was a safety specialist for oil companies by profession. He loved sport, mostly as a spectator, and baseball was his favorite as were his St. Louis Cardinals. He was an NFL fan too and an avid Dallas Cowboys’ supporter. (As I used to tell him; I thought only people from Dallas liked the Cowboys.)
However, Randy did take up the sport of golf and I will never forget the first time he played. It was Papa-San’s annual birthday tournament at Siam Country Club and I was going to enter as well. Prior to this, I was playing with the likes of Gerry Jackson, Jerry Hot Dog and Dillon, and though that was not competitive golf (far from it), I remember feeling the pressure that day the need to beat Randy. After all, I had been playing golf and he hadn’t.
Well, after the first nine, I saw him in the distance approaching me rapidly with purpose in his stride and grinning from ear to ear. ‘Say this is fun, huh?’ he said. Without a prompt, he announced his halfway score and I felt the dread; he was already beating me. In the end, it got worse; he had decisively whipped me. Though I didn’t get grief from Randy, I sure did from my playing partners.
The rest is history; while my game continued to mire in mediocrity, Doom went on to greatness. He won the TQ Masters and the green jacket in 2004 with 45 Stableford points. It was wonderful feat and I have never seen him so proud and happy.
Randy also had a love for music, particularly southern rock, and loved his downloaded TV mini-series and movies. Wherever he hung his cap, and he wore one ubiquitously, the first thing he would do when he moved into new digs was to establish the ‘Doom Room’. This would be the entertainment room, which would be equipped with the state of the art audio-visual equipment, monster TV and blackout curtains.
Randy came to Thailand in the late 80’s and we probably hooked up for first time at Fire and Ice, a cavernous go-go bar on the corner of Pattayaland 2 and Beach Road, where he was the DJ-cum-manager. But our friendship really was cemented when many of us gravitated to Jonathon Court on Thappraya Road, across from where Bernie and Dave’s bungee jump used to be.
Randy was one of the partners there, and this became a common hangout for expat residents and/or those who wanted to play water volleyball. The atmosphere living there among friends with our girls was like a commune and the times were good. After all, we were young, carefree and unencumbered.
Randy was a talker and could engage people for some length. The Thais call it, ‘kui kreng’, or ‘skillful conversationalist’, which is a nice term that fits here too.
Regardless of the topic, Randy could be very demonstrative during his dialogues and often delivered in an animated manner. He was effusive in his speech whether it was something that pleased him or bothered him. Occasionally, he could get into a funk and go into diatribe too. This gave birth to his moniker, Dr. Doom.
Eventually, it was shortened to ‘Doom’ and became one of those hash names that fits the person so well that the real name becomes obsolete.
But despite the connotation of Randy’s nickname, it was always used affectionately. As whatever Randy was talking about, it was with passion and sincerity. He wore his heart on his sleeve and cherished his friendships.
Randy was also a manager at TQ Daytime in the mid 90’s and he gave the shift its own flavor and had his own following. As it was long ago, we were hesitant to remind people that he did a stint there, given the fact that now this is the third manager to have met his demise in the last 5 years. The last thing we want is for the public to go superstitious on us or think there is some kind of curse, like what plagued the tomb raiders of Tutankhamen.
Randy had stayed in touch with his daughter, Taylor, in the States to the very end. They were last together when she was 7 years old. She is now with husband and 2 children. Randy had an unfulfilled dream to bring them over here so he could meet his grandchildren, show them his home, Thailand, and meet his friends.
The last time I saw Randy was at the Jesters Fair at Regent’s last September. He was wearing a TQ Masters shirt that was so faded that I couldn’t distinguish the year. When I asked him about it, he said, ‘2004 of course’. Sure enough it was from the year when he won the green jacket and he was still just as proud.
You gotta love it. Good on you, Randy