“With your pitchfork tongue, you licked your lips and lied
We’re never gonna know how hard you cried
When you petitioned and your access was denied
‘Til the venom in your veins is satisfied
‘Til you suffocate and swallow down the pride” – The Killers

okay, so, this is all based on 2nd hand information and I reserve the right to use creative license as I see fit.

so, there is this dude, he is post 50 and sports a ponytail. he will be referred to as Pony Boy or Unicycle from here on out.

he told the owner of our gym that the beat workout is done on ones unicycle. (Hence nickname #2). Unicycle claims that he used to ride his one wheeled machine from Venice Beach to the Hollywood Sign. seriously. how would one accomplish this given Los Angeles traffic? but I digress.

about one month ago, Pony Boy approached the owner of the gym and advised that his daughter is breastfeeding and is considering selling her surplus and would he be interested in purchasing the superfluous milk for the Athletes?

and then the jokes started.

and then I had a brilliant idea.

and thus, Unicycle Brand Breast Milk for Athletes was born.

So, upon entering my room at the Courtyard in Bentonville, ARKANSAS, I quickly realized that the toilet was out of order.  Given my vast experience with non-working toilets, I knew what to do.  I removed the lid of the tank and took a quick peek.  It was easy to see what the issue was … the ballcock was broken.  (who uses a completely plastic ballcock in what is essentially a commercial toilet??  but i digress).  i flushed the toilet manually and headed to bed.  as I was leaving this morning, for my very important meetings, i advised the front desk of the situation in room 310.  i admit it.  i took great pleasure in advising Brendan that my ballcock needed replaced.  Ah, the look on his face.  Good times.  He advised that he would have my ballcock replaced while I was out and all was well in the world.

her cell phone conversation is so GD important that she’s sharing it with the entire lobby. fun is being had by all. “did you know that Gordon is dating a model? oh, I know, right? I don’t think she’s a real model.” blah blah blah

dude. this is an airport. not your personal office. no one wants to hear you try to sell your religion or vitamins or make-up. and really, phrases like “you’re so dirty,” are completely inappropriate for a family airport

ignore grammar. one drink in.

in the gate area at the airport. server comes up to me and I’m like, I think I’m going to drink my dinner … I’ll have a Mai Tai and a water. “The Esquire Mai Tai or the regular one?” I was like, the one on the inside of them menu and I pointed it out. He was like, well, that’s $13.99. I was like, so? then he carded me. PETULANT.

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