...until we fist bump in heaven..
“A horse looks into your eyes…but a mule looks into your soul…” – Brett Remy
I never knew you. I watched you, thought about your disability, but never said hi or introduced myself. Then we both got an afternoon, some sunshine, a relax, and the opportunity to sit like sad men, next to each other on a barstool at our favorite watering hole. We both love music. We both love rock and roll. We both have a happiness, and a sadness sitting inside of ourselves waiting to touch each other. And I am so thankful I got that moment with you.
When I found out you passed it was a soft yet brutal bewilderment. We both went to the bar to find ourselves, our solitude, our softness and our quiet. I didn’t know how much hurt we could hide. Every day is a slog, a slug, a slig, a sledge. Here at the bar, the tenuous ledge of next tumbled and mixed us, poured neat and still. I appreciate getting to share with you the ways in which we both found space in space.
You are rock and roll.
I really loved playing “make our favorite band” with you, choosing the top ten best and worst band names, and finding out “how are things going”. Crushed satisfaction was an aperitif to our repetitive dried liquid pattern. Your spirit for loving your daughter was so thoughtful and cool, it made me miss the idea of ever being a dad.
You are a shrugging surfboard on the spitting so-cal waves.
I am certain you were an incredible teacher. You taught me lies. Lies I held inside myself, unwilling to share with a stranger. You taught me that the stranger was myself. I lie to me. My every word coaches regret. Memories I hope to forget begrudgingly, become my nostalgia. We knew each other as “almost” men, gravity held to platforms we didn’t build. The seats we shared were temporary salves for injuries we hoped held no witness. We let dirty chunked ice cool us into a relaxation our personal practices could never attain.
We were devo.
You taught me to love learning. To be true to the shoe scratched rubber scrubbed sidewalk of reality. You taught me to share in the opportunity to be elsewhere now, and then here when there. I want to share with you again any moment. I want to write well here, for you.
You are rock and roll.
I’ll wish you god, wherever you are, rolling around and sitting surly. Please be in touch in every realm, and find peace, love and all the aloha as you drift sweet good man. I’ll miss you much brother. Stay amazing and let’s catch a surf together sometime. I’ll boogie, you board.