Last night at the hockey game a little boy about four or five was sitting behind me with his older brother. During the intermission, this conversation between them took place.

LK: Hey! I just saw my frwend over there.
OB: Really? Where?
LK: Over there. His name is Noah.
OB: Yeah, that’s cool. Noah’s cool.
LK: Ummmm. But Noah is….uhhhhh. Noah’s imaginary. He’s an imaginary friend.
OB: Oh, that’s cool. Imaginary friends are cool.
LK: Yeah.
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Got four free tickets to the Avalanche game tonight. I emailed Sabrina to see if she wanted to go. She called back saying thanks but she had a business dinner tonight. I told her to cancel it. Looks like I’ll be going with the boys. It was good though, she was cordial and seemed sincere. However, my good friends Leber and A.P., and my brother, who have really been there for me lately, are the ones going. And rightfully so.

I started out the weekend at my brothers. He fixed me dinner and then we went to his friend’s house for a party. The party was pretty small, maybe fifteen people or so, and it was way out in the suburbs, but you can’t beat free beer and ping pong. I met some pretty friendly people there, and some jackasses as well. One guy insisted on playing Def Leppard all night, smoking indoors, serenading my brothers girlfriend, and was general nuisance. He fell into the jackass category.

I ended up staying up way too late, so I slept in on Saturday. After cleaning the house a little bit and relaxing all afternoon I went up to my buddy Lebers in Louisville. He had a bunch of friends over for apps and cocktails. Most of the night I spent downloading in front of Lebers incredible computer/tv/stereo/dvd/multimedia contraption he has set up in his living room. The remote control for Lebers tv is a computer keyboard! This thing is amazing. It can do everything. For the majority off the evening I played music for the party off this thing, downloading songs when I thought the ambiance called for a particular piece of music. When I got home I fought off sleep for as long as I could, for no particular reason. Sunday I went into work for the afternoon and then spent the evening over at my pops.
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It was important. But it wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be. Not for me at least. I suppose it may have been harder for her because it was her mortality we were defining.

Last Wednesday my brother, his girlfriend, and I went over to moms for dinner. She fixed red beans and rice, my favorite meal of hers. She always fixes it for my birthday. But tonight we wouldn’t be talking about birth, but death. Mom was putting together her living will, durable power of attorney, and such. She needed to put one of our names down as the executor. Of course, both my brother and me agreed it doesn’t really matter. There is no doubt that if an event should occur, in which a decision about how to deal with any of these issues, the both of us would be involved. The person who would tell the doctor what to do was irrelevant, be it my brother or me. My name got put down not for any other reason than I volunteered.

My Mom is a simple woman. She believes in “right-to-die” or pain control or whatever the current p.c. term for minimizing suffering of both victim and survivor in the case of tragic events and during severe illness or debilitation. I’m confident my brother and me would be able to make a good decision, and more importantly, my mom is too.

It sucks thinking about this kind of stuff sometimes. And it is can actually pretty depressing if you let it be. But it’s also very necessary. And nothing we discussed actually brought me down. It was just a form of preparation - in case of the unavoidable.

I just got in from a two-hour lunch and nobody even realized I was gone. I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not. It’s beautiful outside and was the perfect afternoon to go walk around. I can feel the slightest bit of spring fever starting to settle into my bones. But I won’t be fooled quite yet their is still a few more snow storms left in the year (if were lucky).

The reason I took such a long lunch was to go check out a showing of some of Shag’s (Josh Agle) artwork on display at Th’Ink Tank. There were about 30+ pieces on display. Every one of them sold on opening night. Shag’s work is a cartoonish rendition of the swank 1960’s swinger or mod culture. Themes include tiki heads, shriners, spies, voodoo lounge, devils, and cocktails. A couple of my favorites can be found below. Check out his website for more.
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1. What was the last song you heard?
“Spit And Fire” by Rainer Maria.

2. What were the last two movies you saw?
The last two I watched in their entirety were “One Hour Photo” and “Insomnia”.

3. What were the last three things you purchased?
Beer, soft tacos, gasoline.

4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?
Laundry, finish cleaning the bathtub, relax, and have fun.

5. Who are the last five people you talked to?
Chris (coworker), Paul (coworker), Raylene, Steve (coworker), Louie (coworker).

This list was taken from “The Art of Courtly Love” by Andreas Capellanus, a book that has been recently added to my wishlist.

The Twelve Chief Rules in Love:

1. Thou shalt avoid avarice like the deadly pestilence and shalt embrace its opposite.
2. Thou shalt keep thyself chaste for the sake of her whom thou lovest.
3. Thou shalt not knowingly strive to break up a correct love affair that someone else is engaged in.
4. Thou shalt not chose for thy love anyone whom a natural sense of shame forbids thee to marry.
5. Be mindful completely to avoid falsehood.
6. Thou shalt not have many who know of thy love affair.
7. Being obedient in all things to the commands of ladies, thou shalt ever strive to ally thyself to the service of Love.
8. In giving and receiving love’s solaces let modesty be ever present.
9. Thou shalt speak no evil.
10. Thou shalt not be a revealer of love affairs.
11. Thou shalt be in all things polite and courteous.
12. In practising the solaces of love thou shalt not exceed the desires of thy lover.
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This morning I got an email from a music-loving friend of mine that informed me of some sad news. Apparently, legendary bluesman and cane fife player, Othar Turner passed away last Thursday the 27th of March. His death overshadowed by that of a particular children’s television show host. Otha Turner and the Rising Star Drum and Fife Band played a style of “blues” called American drum and fife music. Its influences trace most directly to both the drum corps of the Revolutionary War and traditional African music brought to America by slaves.

I discovered Othars music a couple of years ago from some random zine I can no longer remember the name of. What I like most about Otha music, in addition to it’s simple but driving beats and southern man-of-the-earth feel, it was great to party to. In fact Otha threw picnic parties every summer for whomever wanted to attend. Otha and friends would roast goat, drink margaritas, and play music. The summer I first heard Otha I brought his CD to all the parties I went to. My friends with an interest in music (and most of those who didn’t) always got there interest piqued when they heard it. If you haven’t heard Othar Turner yet I recommend you do so. Try downloading (left click) some of his tunes from here, here, here, or here.
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I thought I might hear from Sabrina on Sunday morning, for breakfast, because we had talked about it earlier. I’m glad she didn’t call because I needed the rest from my eventful Saturday. After lying on the couch catnapping all afternoon, I gave her a call. She doesn’t answer her phone. I leave a message. She calls back about two hours later.

She explains to me that she has had a busy morning as she had slid into the curb last night on the slick road in front of her apartment on the way back from her date, thus debilitating the use of her car. Of course, because her car was now inoperable, her date had to stay over. They spent the morning having a “glorious” (her words) walk from her house to his to get the car towed. Holy shit! Did she just tell me this!
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Friday and Saturday were fun. Sunday wasn’t. Actually Friday wasn’t all that fun either, I changed the battery in the car (she purrs like a kitten now, well kinda), ate some dinner and then went to bed early. I got up on Saturday at about 6:00 AM, way earlier than I do on even a workday. It was difficult. I am not a morning person. But it was worth it for the day of skiing. The snow was soft and the weather was nice. I took the chutes for the first time this year and had a great challenging day.

After arriving back in Denver I immediately started getting ready for the bachelor party I was invited to that night. I met the boys out at the Wynkoop Brewery for some pool. I arrived late because of skiing and everyone had definitely already gotten their drink on. There were about 20-25 of us there so I got to catch up with a bunch of friends. No girls and a fair amount of rowdiness. Actually, the only girl to talk to any of us all night (besides the server of course), recognized me from about four years ago and came up to say hi. We had a short chat but it was nice to know I made an impression. I bought the bachelor a shot of Tuaca which, after about ten minutes, sent him running into the little boys room. While the bachelor’s brother took care of him a bunch of us decided to pursue other stag party type activities (this is probably best left to your imagination, in fact it was probably best left to mine). I was able to catch a cab home without any thing missing, broken, or stained. Mission accomplished.