GPWA Times Magazine - Issue 38 - July 2017

W hen I first sat down to write this column, it was sup- posed to be about the per- sistent threats that mobile real-money gaming presents to affiliates. Then real life happened. Jim Keith, our friend and colleague, passed away. “Friend and colleague” seems like a wholly inadequate way to describe someone. But for Jim, the phrase isn’t important. The order of the words is. Jimwas a consummate salesman. He could, as the cliché goes, sell ice to Eskimos and make them feel good about it. But that wasn’t who he was. His skill in sales was a byproduct of his true gift: being a friend. Jim excelled at making friends. Every time Jimmet someone, he would keep talking to them, and keep listening to them, trying to find that connection – that one thing he could bondwith them over. He was looking for the one thing that wouldmake them friends. Because Jimnever neededmore than one thing. Jim never forgot that one thing, either. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t seen you in five years, or if he had just talked to you yesterday. He always remem- bered that one thing, that connection. With me, that one thing was food. It was an odd connection for Jim and I to have. I’m a vegetarian. He wasn’t. Not even close. There was no shortage of teasing or disbelief over my vege- tarianism. But even in his teasing, his big heart showed through. He’d talk about where he and his wife, Amanda, shopped for vegetables — and the meals they would make with them. He knew I loved spicy food, and would always keep an eye out for hot sauces I’d be interested in. On more than a few occasions, he would get me a gift and hand deliver it at a conference in Europe instead of mailing it to me in the U.S. Jim’s gift for making — and keeping — friends was part of his genial charm. As APCW Perspectives host J. Todd noted in re- membering Jim, “He made you laugh and he made you feel good about yourself. He was the kind of friend that you enjoyed being around because he made life better.” Even when Jim disagreed with you, he did so disarmingly. He’d never say “you’re wrong” or “I think you’re wrong.” He’d state his point with clar- ity and then slyly ask in a Texas drawl, “Ain’t that right?” If he was making his point to a particular person, he’d throw in their name. I’m going to miss hearing, “Ain’t that right, Vin?” Jimmade friends easily. But he always made it clear that the most important person in his life was his wife. At indus- try conferences, Amanda was a co-star in our conversations. From Jim’s per- sistent efforts to reach home despite the vast time zone difference, to relaying the news from home to us, Jim’s stories about his conversations withAmanda left no doubt about her place in his life. She was at the center of it. Amanda recently became a teacher. It’s something she’s been working toward for quite some time. When I asked in February whether Amanda had completed her degree work, the smile on his face lit up the room. He was so proud of and happy for her, he could barely contain himself. Things were “looking up” in the Keith household, he told me. Less than four months later, Jimwas dead at the age of 45. Since his passing, I’ve heard sev- eral variations of “God takes the good ones first.” It’s a cruel, though well-intentioned, platitude. When the good ones die young, like Jim Keith, it creates a hole in the universe that can’t be filled. “I talked to Jim nearly every day for 30 years,” said his best friend and GPWA colleague Anthony Telesca. “I can’t begin to describe the void I’m feeling.” It takes a big person to leave that kind of footprint on the universe. Jim Keith was that kind of person. I used to call Jim “big fella.” It’s an honorific that has nothing to do with size. I save it for the people with the biggest hearts and kindest souls. I think I speak for us all when I say, “We’re going to miss you, big fella.” Jim’s gift for making — and keeping — friends was part of his genial charm . . . But he always made it clear that the most important person in his life was his wife Amanda. w w w . g p w a t i m e s . o r g 41