turn down for what

so, i’m in Salt Lake City this week.  it’s been a somewhat tough trip as the last time i was here, in 2009, i was with a group of friends that i truly loved.  i thought we’d be friends forever.

flash forward five years and one of those friends and i don’t talk anymore and another died tragically over the holidays.  they represent an incredibly fun part of my life; but it’s over now and i can never go back.

the friend that died.  bobo.  i miss him every single day.  being back here brings up so many memories … and for the first two days of my stay, i truly ran from them.  i purposefully didn’t go anywhere in town that might carry too many memories.  it just felt like it was too soon.

then today, something weird happened.  it’s almost like i didn’t have control my driving when i turned down different streets, ignoring what the lady on the GPS was telling me.  it was like i “knew” where i was going.  and then it happened.  i found myself in front of the hotel in which i threw a party in 2009.  at which bobo was present.  i was on the street on which we threw glow sticks off of my balcony, trying to hit garbage trucks at 3 in the morning.  i saw my balcony.  i saw the buildings i could see from my balcony.  i think i heard bobo laugh.

i didn’t cry.  my eyes were dry.  but i felt like he was right there with me again.  (my eyes are now tearing up as i write this).  i pulled over and took some pictures; i’m glad i did.  i didn’t linger.  i knew it was time to get to the airport.  but i felt better.  at ease.

i started down South Temple and found myself in front of a restaurant that the friend with whom i don’t talk and i frequented on that same trip.  my heart sank.  he’s alive, but i just don’t know if we’ll ever be able to be friends again.  that haunts me.

again, i didn’t linger.  i kept going towards the airport.  as i was turning at the next light, i could feel my car being drawn towards the chevron across the street.  i had to get gas anyway, so into the station i drove.

i filled up and the pump didn’t ask me if i wanted a receipt, let alone produce one.  so i headed towards the little shop.

as i approached, i see this guy, about bobo’s size, just blonde, singing some bon jovi song to the cashier, in serious air guitar mode.  it was hilarious.  i’m sure my mouth was on the floor as i stood there and realized bobo had been guiding my movements for the past few miles.  he was here.  in a sense.  and he wanted me to know he’s still out there somewhere.  kevin, the blonde bobo, kidded with the cashier for a while.  i just stood there.  he was hilarious.  then, kevin turned and left.

the cashier offered up that kevin had been going into that gas station for the past 15 years (he’s 40 now).  she said he’s one funny guy.  i laughed and went on my way.

bobo has been gone for almost 10 months.  there have been several times when i know he’s with me, eg. all of the crabs i suddenly see at the beach, but this is the first time the experience has left an indelible mark on my soul.  in the wise words of billy joel, “only the good die young.”

i didn

@Factsionary: PSYCHOLOGY SAYS – Over thinking is just a painful reminder that you care entirely too much, even when you shouldn’t.

They’re doing sound check at Tom Petty. Random roadie walks out and instead of test blah blah blah, he says, “That rug really tied the room together, did it not.” Silence. Then he says, “The Dude.” And walked to another mike.

I am pretty sure I’ve been sprayed with this guy’s spit. The spit he generated by SLURPING his airport noodles while we wait to go back to LAX. 🐷🐽🐷