Bits and Peices.

You said, You said, You said, This Time was going to be Different.

Da. comes up about once a month to get his braces worked on. And I make a point of going out with him every time that he comes down. His is one of my best friends, and I love to spend time with him.

He has a cousin. A young guy that has a decent head on his shoulders, but he likes to tell us what kind of music that he likes. And since Da. and I are bitter old men when it comes to music we are always ribbing him about the bands that he likes to tell us are hardcore.

But Da. tells me that he is coming to town and that K. really wants to take him to see Set Your Goals. One of the afore mentioned "hardcore" bands. Even though I'm supposed to be going to watch The Railbenders with C. I feel that going to hang with Da. is more important, and that means sucking it up and seeing a band that I'm just not that into. I want to go have fun with Da. so I find myself walking into The Marquis and listening to some halfways decent pop punk.

Punctuated by Comeback Kid.

When I was K.'s age, I was into hardcore the difference was that hardcore back then was a lot more connected to its roots. This music came from something and it is still evolving and I have to give some respect to that. I really do but to hear Comeback Kid, who has a pedigree and a sound that recalls that time. It reminds me of what that feels like to have that youthful spirit, that idealism that I haven't ever really let go of, but that I have let mellow out a little bit.

And to see Da. next to me in the pit was one of the best moments of bortherhood, of connectedness that I have had in a while. Comback Kid did their set and we old men stood aside and let the kids do their thing.

I watched them move the way we used to move. Jumping up on the backs of their friends to get closer to the mic and scream their favorite line. Swinging fists and yelling, having fun. I couldn't hold that against them, and suddenly I understood what K. was talking about. Suddenly I understood that they are hardcore, just in a different way.

They have a shirt that says, "May I never lose my youth, all of this is too unforgetable." I understand exactly what they mean.

Dear John Waters, Thank You.

The next night another of my best friends came down. Me. had been plaing this night for a while. One of her best friends is a transgendered. If you don't really get what that means I would encourage you to look it up. Past that all that matters is that Ra. is just like you or me. She is a human being. She is funny, and loved the fact that Repo Man says John Wayne was a cross dresser (a fact I have had a little trouble verifying even on the internet. For once Snopes failed me on an urban legend), and she pours Bud Light over ice with a lime, she is engaging and intellegent, and she is one of Me.'s best friends. Unfortunatley she lives in G. which isn't really a beacon of enlightenment and progressive thought, so she catches a lot of shit.

Her chance to get out and be with her people is to come down to D. go to the gay bars, and just have a good time in a place where she can be comfortable in a culture where she fits in. So Me. made plans to come down and stay at a friends house and just have a good time. And I was to be drug along.

I'll be honest I was really nervous about the whole thing.

I've never been to a gay bar. I've never really been around a lot of gay people (though I have had a lot of gay friends and have come to terms with the whole they just do it different and other than that are exactly the same). But I just didn't know: What to expect, how to dress, what to think, how to act. None of it.

So they pull up and and go out I meet Ra. for the first time, and my default greeting is to shake hands. She pulls me into this hug, and tells me how much Me. talks about me and how great it is to meet me. And I'm trying hard to not feel uncomfortable because I know that she will preceive it as being uncomfortable with her, when really it is just the hug.

My culture is about fist bumps, high fives, shaking hands and punching in the shoulder, not hugs, so this is a bit awkward. Me. does it to me too, and because I hang out with her enough I'm used to it with her, but with a stranger. When did I get so closed to human contact? But I was determined to not let anything hang me up. I know that Me. is a great friend and that she has great friends, I was trusting her.

We went to a friend of Ra.'s who was letting them crash there. And Then we went to Hamburger Mary's. It is a burger joint that is run by drag queens (who tend to be different than transgendered individuals) and has fucking amazing burgers. Honest, as a cook they were really good.

Then the plan was to go to Charlie's a local gay bar.

I was really antsy. I just didn't know what to expect. But we pull up and Ra. makes me feel comfortable with one sentence to a limo driver about what kind of CDL he needs to drive the Hummer limo. In that second it dawned on me, "These people are just like all of my other gay friends, they are just people out to have a good time." So I walked right in with the two of them.

The place was just like any bar, with good drink specials, and a lot of people having fun. There was honestly less desperation and pretention in the air than most places that I go. I had a great night, and was articulating that to Me. and Ra. through the whole night.

There were things that I saw that really weren't to shocking, that Ra. would glance over at me about. To see if I was "straight" freaking out. But honestly John Waters really prepared me well for a gay bar.

As the night worn on I was sitting talking to Ra. about how good of a time I was having and how fun I thought she was. And she said, "You are so sweet. Thank you." And leaned in a kissed me. It was strange, because I wasn't offended or put off. All I could think was about how Ra. was just out looking for someone to love her. Just like we all are. And I feel pretty honored that for that split second I got to be the person loving her, because she probably doesn't get a whole lot of love in her life.

We walked to Benny Blanco's and got some pizza after closing down Charlie's and while there Me. went in to order pizza, while Ra. and I sat outside. Some idiot inside wouldn't stop staring, so I told him, "Keep staring and see what fucking happens," he turned around quick. Ra. is my friend now, and I protect my friends the best I can.

Me. and Ra. caught a cab to where they were crashing and I walked home down the alley.

Un Beso de Desayuno

V. has keys to my place.

I've told her that she can always stay over. If she doesn't want to drive home, or just to get away for the night, or anything.

I lay in bed and pass out.

Then I hear the door opening.

The bolt slides open and then shoes thumping next to the floor. Then a jacket hitting the ground.

"Hey scoot over."

I scoot. We wrap up in each other's arms. Sleep evades for a while. Close comfort.

We lay next to each other in the dark. Soft kisses and then finally sleep. I have to be up for work very soon, but I have no desire what so ever to lose this moment. As I sleep I wake myself up over and over. Restless but because I want to remember all of this. This is what love felt like a very long time ago, and I want to grasp it.

We wake the next morning and she gives me a ride to work, asking me all about the night before, and really happy that I had the experiance that I had. I love to share things with her, and she tells me all about her night, and what she loved about it. And the she gives me a kiss, and I'm off hoping to see her sooner rather than later.

Bri. Bri.

There are some friendships that I'm very sad went to the wayside for one reason or another.

Bri.Bri. is one of them.

He played bass for a band that my first band used to play with a lot, and we became very good friends.

We never had any kind of falling out, we just stopped being around each other. And stopped communicating (something that was a lot easier to do about 10 years ago).

About twice a year I would try to look him up on the internet or ask some people if they knew what he was up to. Information was spotty. And then one day about three months ago he friended me on Facebook.

I met with him the Monday after waking up next to V. We caught up. I told him about my marriage and divorce, my three kids, my move to D. and my poverty. He told me about his alcoholisim, how he lost a woman (and her kids) that he loved intensely, and that he was a maker of primative weapons, and that he was learning about gun repair.

And we walked.

All over the neighborhood.

The restless feet of Agents. The restless feet that I have grown so acustomed to in my friends. These men and women that are waiting for that one spark. Something to set the fire that we can flame. Flames that we can use to forge.

It is good to know that Bri.Bri. still carries the fire.

It is good to know that Da. will never forget his youth.

It is good to know that Ma. and Ra. can find love.

It is good to know that V. fits well in these arms.

Where to even file this. There is no place except for all.

So File Under All.