And now we come to the finish... February 13, 2018... The Longest Day... the seventh Tuesday in the seventh week of that year... Mardi Gras, National Pancake Day... the day i knew, though i had always known, that my time with my father was running out... there's not much left to write about that day though there will always be something to write about it... one of those days that gets run through the mind at various times and one of those days that somehow remain more vivid in my mind, like the birth of the boyos, the old yin-yang of life and death, samsara or whatever one might choose to call it... six times i've written about it, probably not as well or as clear as i'd like... but that's life now innit? i could go back and rework or rehash but sometimes it''s best to let things lie, let the imperfections of the words or memories be perfect because we all know that living is not perfect but the imperfections of living are what make it perfect... at least perfect to those who care and attempt to understand even if we never fully grasp it due to it's imperfections... and so this year, the seventh year after the seventh Tuesday in the seventh week in a year marked as 2018, the day came and went... and then it occurred to me how strange and funny the universe can be...
I have a younger brother... granted we are not related by blood, more kindred spirits but dare i say it goes deeper than that... there is an origin story to how i came upon this younger brother but that is a tale unto itself which someday will be properly put down here at the lounge, a story i've told many times to various strangers when i attempt to explain how i met the younger brother i never knew i had... oddly enough i dubbed him The Kid (he's 13 years and 8 days younger than i) and even more odd i nicknamed him that long before we both fell down the rabbit hole of a certain book called Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy... fucking hell i could probably do a dissertation on the relevance and significance of this name as it relates to both my younger brother and the novel but as mentioned that could turn into some sort of Vivian Girls-esque fable that would baffle the most logical of minds... so i'll stay on track... (as well as another one of those coincidences that Robert Anton Wilson loved so much...)
It was sometime after the second year, when i had written about The Longest Day again, that The Kid mentioned how it was an interesting concept to write about the same day year after year, the different things that would come from it, the different memories and meanings to said day and how they would morph and change over time... The Kid is one of the most intelligent humans i know and in certain respects reminds me of my father in both thought and demeanor, and it was this idea that led me to scribbling away, for better or worse, about this day for the last six, now seven, years...
Fast forward seven years to February 13, 2025... it was the first time since that day seven years ago that i didn't really think much about it... i knew it was coming and i knew it would pass but in the days and years since that day i often think about my father, pretty much every day, i do laps for him when i swim, some just cuz i love the guy and some in the block of Fuck Cancer laps where i go through the names of those i've known and loved and lost and those who have managed to beat that fucking disease and sadly there is more of the former than the latter... i understand that the act is symbolic mainly to me but somehow it makes me feel as if i'm fighting against it and by going through the names of the people i've known for that brief moment they aren't really gone...
But what was it about this February 13th that struck me, after the fact of course, and brought about and "i'll be damned" from the mouth of our jaded author? I'll explain... The Kid and his lovely wife now live down south, i don't get to see them often but it's always one of my favorite days when i do, sadly The Kid was coming back to our Rust Belt city to attend a ceremony for a friend of his, gone far too soon and far too young, and i know if there's one thing the universe has taught me it's there is no justice or sense to it, it takes who it wants when it wants which is why every day when i roll off my makeshift bed and stretch, pet Paco between the ears, watch Archie rub against my legs, i take a deep breath, i smile and remind myself to enjoy this shit cuz it's more fleeting than any of us like to admit and at any given time one's ticket could be punched... so since The Kid and the lovely Miss E were coming back to town and though he had a lot of things to do we put our heads together to figure out a time and a place to hang for a bit... and after bouncing around some ideas and such we thought the sooner the better as it would be a hectic few days for my brother and so we settled on a Thursday night at my favorite dive bar, the date? February 13th...
And so it was that night that i drove to my favorite boozer to see my brother (and the lovely Miss E.)... the universe is funny like that, these random happenings, the coincidences, the shit that Bob Wilson makes one ponder in the wee hours of the morning... i didn't think about the exact date until a few days later when it sorta popped into my head as the smile spread across my face, at the time i was more happy to see The Kid, to see how he was doing after the loss of his friend, to have one of our usual conversations filled with intellect and humor, to discuss the state of the world and our lives, and to basically just be in the company of a good friend (friends as i'd be remiss not to include Miss E) because as i go skipping towards the void i understand more now, much more than i did when i was younger, how rare and precious they are, how they don't come along that often and when they do we would do well to recognize them... (side note: they met me at my favorite boozer even though neither of them drink anymore which i thought was pretty fucking swell of them, granted The Kid and i have put in many hours between us in years past polishing the mahogany at this place and honestly one could go to this joint for the jukebox and the food alone but i still found it brilliant that they chose this spot... my brother knows me well...)
It was an interesting juxtaposition thinking about the two days, seven years apart, how time had somewhat softened the blow of that day seven years ago and how much i understood that day now... yes there are things that still sting, will always sting, the fact i couldn't stay at my dad's apartment that night due to my illness, an illness brought on by a selfish act of the BW and even now i don't think she fully grasps what she took, not only from me but from my father, facing down his mortality i knew he wanted me there that night, his only son, to sit and talk like we had so many times before, to not be alone, there is no amount of sorry that will give back what can't be given and it's a hard thing to forgive, i know full well that if i had pulled some such shit when her mother was sick i'd have never heard the end of it, i've never mentioned it to her, not once, mainly because it's just another reminder of where i stand in her eyes, it's a strange thing to watch someone display an enormous amount of caring and empathy to everyone around her but very little to yours truly... but the day has come and gone... seven times to be exact... and maybe that uncaring, unfeeling universe i speak of was trying to give me a little bit back, by putting me in a booth, in my favorite boozer, to talk to my brother and Miss E on the same day, at the same time i would have been sitting in my father's apartment some seven years back, to have one of those conversations i love so much and though it wasn't with my dad it was with one of the few people on this planet who qualifies in my favorite conversations department..
Hang onto your friends... especially the good ones... (this pic is titled Old Geezer in Reading Glasses at the Jukebox)
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