Hello Old Friend. I’ve missed you these last few years. I miss your wigwam/tepee joke, your three vampires walk into a bar joke, the not so subtle ways you inserted the word “gig” into every conversation. I think back to the times we played hooky from work and went up skiing. That night at the Starboard Attitude, listening and dancing to some awesome blues, the guitarist wailing on his ’57 Stratocaster. We ended that night cooking up linguini with clams at 4am, laughing, eating, drinking, talking about the simple pleasures in life: friendship, good music, a nice glass of wine (we were both pleasantly surprised that the Bulgarian table wine you found for $6 was actually potable!), a good meal, and so many more small good things.
I miss you more now that I know I won’t see you again. I won’t hear any of the who knows how many other corny jokes you might have picked up along the way, your renditions of Clapton, your laugh. I guess you’re now playing The Great Gig in the Sky, what an amazing sound that must be!
Goodbye Old Friend. Goodbye my dear, dear Mollusk. I love you.