Friday, April 18, 2014

Hasta las tardes, amigo...

I knew.
I knew the last time I saw you would be the last time.
I'd hoped not.
I hoped that maybe you could hang on another week so we could chat again.
I selfishly wanted you to dangle on the edge of death, merely so I could have one more moment with you. My friend from the old days. My verbal sparring buddy, who used to join me in rounds of inappropriate banter just within earshot of others, as to shock them and amuse us. My hilarious little "beaner", which you would respond by calling me "camel jockey."
I'm really going to miss you, old friend. You left too soon. You got the light, but had way more material for us.
And though I can't speak to you again, I will always have you in my world and memories.
The shows. The laughs.
That "fo sho, fo sho" that followed most statements.
How I told you not to pet my cats, because you'd impregnate them.
The trips to Houston to expand our limited comedy horizons.
Movie Pitchers. Amberjacks. Corpus.
Bar B Que. Whataburger. Budweiser.
That cock eyed grin.
Right up until the end, you were working new material. I am so happy that I had that last moment with you.
Just us.
No one else in the room.
Old friends talking shit as if you weren't on the verge of death.
And I hoped I would see you again.
But I knew.
And when I read, six time zones away, that you had passed to the other side, I wasn't surprised.
And when I hit the stage that night, I had you in my thoughts. My heart.
And I will always feel that the laughs were for the both of us.
Travel safe, dear and funny friend.
I'll see you on the other side.
Just save me some 'que, hombre.
Love you buddy.


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