That kid you grew up with. You’ve known him since you can remember. His kid brother, too. First guy to get a motorcycle. Hung with the biker crowd but unfailingly polite to parents. Gave the real rowdies what for more than once.
Great athlete. First kid in your group to throw a curve ball; you remember watching his dad teach him in their back yard. The kid every other kid in the neighborhood looked up to. Dad, Navy WW2. Mom, Kentucky born & raised. Both gone now.
Off to Vail after High School to build houses all summer & ski all winter. Best dog-golf story you’ve ever heard. Tired of using a front-end loader to clear his driveway of snow after five years, moved home to Pasadena. Married. Divorced. Two kids. Girls. Both out of USC now. On their own. Successful
Camping bud. Backpacking bud. New Year’s Eve one year atop Telescope Peak on the western edge of Death Valley. That guy. Played a couple years on your softball team. His dad pitched a bit for you.
He sold his OC condo & moved to AZ. Retiring? Or just the economic change and unable to find good work? Who knows? I’m too young not to do something, he said. Home Depot? Lowes? Was going to hit the local skate rink to see if they had some amateur hockey.
That guy and his kid brother were going to drive down to Phoenix Sunday morning. The kid brother was coming out to see the new place I’d just helped Larry move into three weeks ago in Prescott after he’d stayed out our home a week while he & my wife house-hunted & played golf – then stayed again when moving in and awaiting his stuff. The cake mix for his birthday cake was on the kitchen counter.
But then he didn’t respond to Facebook posts from my wife regarding Sunday’s schedule. His brother in Orange County couldn’t reach him. I couldn’t raise him. No one had talked to him in a couple of days. He hadn’t felt well when his brother talked with him three nights ago.
Cops. Drive-by health check. My wife hopped in the truck and headed to Prescott while I was packing for a to-be-cancelled dive weekend in LA with my son.
Birthday last week. 64.
That guy. The one who became your best friend. The one you have known, literally a lifetime. The guy you laughed with and shook hands two weekends back as you left. All moved in.
See ya in a bit.
The weekend will suck.