Archive for June, 2011

I subscribe to the Teche News, a truly enjoyable weekly newspaper from St. Martinville, where I grew up, and this week there was an amazingly interesting letter to the editor in it, complete with graphs. The author, M. L. Broussard, pointed out that these periods of global warming are cyclical, with rapid rises and slower falls, as demonstrated in Antarctic and Greenland ice cores. People used those same ice cores to measure CO2 levels in tiny bubbles trapped inside the ice, giving us a good idea of past warming periods…and greenhouse gases.
The interesting thing is that rising CO2 levels FOLLOWED global warming periods by more than two hundred years…some calculate about a thousand, and his conclusion is that the warming is cyclical and unrelated to that much maligned gas. You see, when it gets hot and the oceans heat up, they release CO2 because it’s much less soluble in warming sea water. That scenario makes sense to me, but the last time Earth warmed, there were a LOT fewer people…and NO internal combustion engines. SURELY, they add to the problem, maybe not the primary cause, but at least an aggravant.
Up to then, I thought it was all CO2, but these concepts have broadened my perspective. I still firmly believe we should try to produce less of it, even if it’s only to MITIGATE the extent and duration of global warming, which I suspect is based on the sun’s activity or some other cosmic factor, but to assume we CAUSED it all may be taking a little too much credit. Earth’s climate history has been one of endless swings, from warm and lush to frigid and spare, tropical alternating with ice ages, but we should really think about what we KNOW about some of those warm periods. That’s the part I’m stuck on…and those poor dinosaurs.
They lived in one of the tropical, warm periods and were most likely done in by an asteroid hitting what is now the Yucatan, Chicxulub. That’s all very interesting, but I can’t help thinking about the central part of North America, what is today the great plains. They were UNDERWATER in what’s always described as a shallow…but vast…inland sea in those days, at least partly the reason they’re so fertile today.
Think about it…water all the way from the Gulf of Mexico, which was a much larger ocean then, to Canada. God knows how many people live on land that was sea floor when dinosaurs did their thing, and what about costal cities? All of ours would be underwater, including New York City…yes, it’s a costal city, too. Of course, the rise would be gradual, and at first, I bet people put up one humongous battle to keep the salt water out. But in the end, people now enjoying our seashores will have to move inland…or drown.
You see, whether this is cyclical and part of nature’s pattern or man-made…or both, it pretty much looks like it’s ACTUALLY happening. I think the tree-huggers, among which I number myself, are wrong, and this is actually part of a pattern. True, we may be aggravating it, accellerating it, as it were, but I believe even if we didn’t produce ONE MOLECULE of CO2, it would still keep on happening. It’s where we are on the geologic curve of climate history that’s the real thorn in our collective paw.

Mr. Broussard made another interesting point. He thinks WATER VAPOR is the ultimate greenhouse gas, not CO2, and he used a sort of thought experiment to make his point…deserts. Desert days are, of course, hellishly hot, but the nights are really COLD. I remember that first-hand from my military time in El Paso; it was FREEZING at night. Why? If CO2 is the demon it’s been made out to be, nights should be warm in desert areas because the concentration doesn’t change at night. We should all be cloaked in our immense greenhouse, still sweating.
But we’re not, and the author is right; the only possible variable you can point to is water vapor, which is almost non-existent in desert areas. The sun warms the place up during the day, and at night, with no warming sun and no water vapor to wrap us in warmth, the temperature plummets…while the CO2 level doesn’t change a whit from night to day. I’m not saying it doesn’t participate; I’m saying…to me, at least…it just doesn’t seem like the major player we’ve been led to believe it is.
The hardest thing in life is dealing with a situation over which you have NO CONTROL…powerless to change what’s going on. I know; believe me…been there lots of times myself when I practiced medicine…incredibly frustrating, but the funny thing is you don’t just stand there and say, “Oh, my God! I can’t do ANYTHING!” Instead, you work your ass off, trying one thing after another, innovating, thinking outside the box, expending every ounce of energy you possess. It’s a DO SOMETHING moment.
At times like those, a lot of people IGNORE the consuming problem, focusing instead on something they actually CAN change…even if it’s irrelevant, and to be honest, I think a lot of that’s going on these days in global warming discussions and projected doomsday scenarios. I don’t laugh at those people…like I said…been there too often myself to do anything that vacuuous. I listen and sometimes even go along with them, particularly if what they’re proposing seems reasonable, and that’s pretty much how I feel about our “carbon footprint.”
You gotta understand. To me living in a Cajun cabin with a garden out back, a couple of cows, a chicken coop, a trusty dog, a good woman, a stone hearth, natural ventilation, candles at night, and maybe gumbo once a week made with chickens you’re raised is just about as close to Heaven as you could get…but I know it’s completely impossible. This Cajun lives in the twenty-first century and sees his dream existance only in museums or crumbling in two-hundred year old houses in out-of-the-way places on seldom traveled dirt roads. I’ve GOT to face this…no other choice, so I’m doing it.
Reducing emissions that HELP the sun and Mother Earth in their clock-like cycle of warming and cooling is a GOOD IDEA, no matter how you look at it, but in my heart, I think we’re only chipping away at a tiny part of what’s trying to consume us. Cosmic forces are going to have their way because NONE of us is big enough to deter any of them. I know it makes us feel better to try, so I say, “Go for it”…but I’m afraid we’re only whistling past the graveyard this time.
If Mr. Broussard is right…and we’ll never know, will we? We’ll all be dead and buried LONG before the answer is known. Actually, I don’t plan to be buried but incinerated and scattered somewhere so plants can use me; I believe in recycling…but if he’s right, our world is about to change incredibly…whatever we do. The oceans will rise, and maybe…just maybe…a new sea will begin to form over Iowa, Nebraska, and all points between Houston and the high ground in Canada.
The weather will become much more capricious and deadly…actually, I think we’re ALREADY seeing that…and summers hotter…sound familiar?…and winters colder. It’s all tied up in haloclines. Google it if you’re interested, or check the links page. Things are going to change, and while we’re ENDLESSLY trying to reduce our carbon emissions, we better start planning where we’re going to put all those people sloshing in from the heartland…and our seashores.
The way I see it, we have three warring camps, geologists and oil people on one side discounting the contribution of CO2, environmentalists on another passionately devoted to the concept, and naysayers on still another denying that anything at all is happening. I don’t think we can do anything about the third group until they realize they’re wrong, but shouldn’t the others be allies rather than adversaries, working together instead of calling each other names? It’s time for us to look at this problem comprehensively, whatever the driving engine of global warming.
The problem is HUGE, and under way now, as I see it; there HAS to be a spot for everyone in figuring out what’s going on and hopefully, dealing with it successfully. Yelling at one another and choosing sides is pointless. Both groups make sense…and maybe the reality is some where in between, as it usually is in situations like this. I think it’s time to shave a little off our egos, pool our resources, hunker down, and work together like enlightened human beings. All you climate guys on both sides are smart; we know that, but fighting with each other while our world bakes and starts to drown is STUPID!
We don’t need stupid. We have too much of that already…most of it in Washington.

Let me see if I have this straight. We’re fighting a war to free people tenaciously living in the 13th century, people governed by tribal law and a Medieval social code…who gain most of their income from MARIJUANA and HEROIN, and we think somehow they’re going to EMBRACE democracy? WHO SAYS? Ten years ago if I had written stuff like this in a novel, it would have been INSTANTLY dismissed as too far-fetched to believe.
Yet, there we are, WASTING the promise of our youth, banging away, hoping, and bringing home coffins draped in Old Glory to curiously uncomfortable families and citizens. I’ve heard it said before. We should send our OLD GUYS to fight, not the kids, not those with unfulfilled lives. That way, wars would be a lot shorter and a lot better thought out…with a lot better reasons for starting them in the first place.
Got a flash for you “geniuses” in Washington…an oxymoron by anybody’s standard. Democracy grows from the hearts and minds of men who earnestly yearn for a better life, not people like this who are only looking for more efficient pesticides capable of doubling their crop of illicit drugs. How do you deal with a NATION in which the established industry is CRIMINAL at best? This time we’re in league with drug dealers, not the loftiest spot in the world.
We go in and build schools…and they kill us., establish hospitals…and they kill us, provide the tools for equality and hope…and they kill us, ask them to trust us and have faith in democracy…and they kill us. Anybody else notice a pattern here? Washington certainly hasn’t. THEY DON’T LIKE US…and want us the hell out of there…probably because it screws up their crops. If you can find somebody in the modern world who actually believes he’s living in the twelve hundreds, listen to him; he’ll tell you what it’s all about, but it’s a long shot.
Thanks to the Russians and our actions in the past, they have weapons now, but if even they didn’t, they’d be throwing rocks and spears, defending their primitive turf every which way they could. Conquering people who don’t share a modern concept isn’t easy, maybe not even possible because they’re unmoved by thoughts of improvement, perfectly happy where they are…and something else. They’re not ONE idiology or philosophy we can penetrate or reason them out of. They’re diverse; Medieval cultures are like that, itty bitty subcultures all over the place…but resolutely united against ANYONE who comes by planning to mess with them.
It’s like kicking a nest of water moccasins open. You can try to reason with them all you like…if you’re really that stupid, but the only SANE thing is to get the hell out of there…and FAST! Maybe they didn’t know it was a den of vipers when our “visionaries” decided to barge in, but a few minutes reading history could have told them what they were thinking about was worse than dumb. It was unbelievable…and that’s an all-time low, even for Washington.

OK…Civilization 101…here goes…looks to me like those people on the Potomac need it. First of all, not EVERYBODY is civilized, the way you seem to think. Instead of a uniform blanket of intelligence and good will embracing the planet, we have people at many points along the curve…all the way from intelligent, well-informed, and kind to ELEMENTAL, fiercely tribal, violent, and immovable. I know it’s in vogue right now to consider everybody to be just like us…only deprived, but you gotta know; some of them are intransigent, BAD mothers, and THOSE are the ones we’ve chosen to engage in a war.
I know it’s all wrapped up in Pakistan wanting to blow up India and India wanting to blow up Pakistan, but Guys, be real. How much can we defuse that situation by bleeding to death in Afghanistan? Truth is, you could bring the Afghans to a grinding halt by burning all their cherished Mary Jane plants and poppies from the air…but you won’t…and I have NO IDEA why. Hit them in their pocketbooks, I say; make it hurt, and they’ll CRAWL to the negotiating table. I know you guys in Washington don’t think like this…BUT THEY DO!
God, we’re in trouble, overflowing with “feel good” politicians who haven’t the slightest nubbin of an idea about what’s REALLY going on. While our infrastructure crumbles and our schools stagnate, those despicable vote-getters keep playing chess with an adversary still stuck on BACKGAMMON and the thirteenth century. If you don’t have the balls to deal decisively in Afghanistan, QUIT GETTING OUR YOUNG MEN KILLED and get our ass out of there…not a few thousand here and there…ALL OF THEM! We’re gonna need those guys to help put our fractured country back together.
You can’t be all things to all people. Deal with your own back yard before you even think about going five thousand miles to make OTHER people’s lives better. Just now, our lives are pretty crappy, our country fragmenting, and the worst part is it seems to us you haven’t even noticed. THINK ABOUT US! Where the hell do you think those dollars you’re spending come from? Oh, I forgot; you’re printing a lot of it out of thin air…inviting inflation…another brilliant idea. Your fantasies are grandiose…but built on illusions and BORROWED MONEY!
One of the most chilling moments I’ve ever experienced was in the Place de la Concorde in Paris, the site of Madame la Guillotine during the French Revolution. My epiphany transformed me when I thought about the lives so mercilessly cut off in that horrible place. Nowadays, you can’t smell the blood there, but it is…between the cobblestones, deep into the soil…and seared into France’s cultural memory. Standing near the Brest statue, exactly where the guillotine was in those days, I kept asking myself, “Why was it so savage?” That’s the only word I could think of, savage, and I kept wondering how the hell it got that far…until it came to me.
NOBODY WAS LISTENING. NOBODY CARED. Take notice, you eminently fallible, stupid politicians. We don’t like what you’re doing. These days we’re CIVILIZED and don’t have guillotines, so you don’t have to worry about your necks…but we DO have ballot boxes. For God’s sake, listen…listen…LISTEN!…and change course because there’s thunder and lightning in the failure to do so. Right now, my thought is to throw them all out, sweep those sullied marble halls clean in the next few elections. A new crop of politicians couldn’t possibly be as horrible as the ones we have now. I know it’s another long shot, but I’m beginning to think it might be worth a try.

Baxter

Angel has a buddy, but just now it looks like she considers him a curse…endlessly chasing her and occasionally clamping onto her tail. Of course, he’s adorable; all Shih Tzus are, but you got to get through the “puppy stage” before you really understand what you have on your hands…the chewy, obnoxious, hypomanic, “I’m the boss” stage.
We got him a “Babble Ball”, and he loved it…until he lost it SOMEWHERE in the house; we STILL haven’t found it. In desperation, I got a couple more off the internet, and sure enough, he’s losing them, too…but not as successfully this time. He’s easy to forgive. Four months old, he somehow makes his wishes known. Yesterday when I was reading the paper, my morning ritual with a cold Starbuck’s Frappuccino…it’s HOT here…okay?…I felt a gentle tap on my leg and discovered him sitting there wagging his tail, begging me to take him up into my lap.
Actually, that’s usually Angel’s spot, but I took him up anyway, and you know what? She didn’t seem to mind. Angel’s six now and lost her ovaries YEARS ago, but somehow pack memories have kicked in. She tolerates him, even enjoys playing with him until at last she decides she’s had enough…and escapes to the computer room, my ultimate sanctuary, my man-space, my testosterone haven…inaccessible to Baxter.
Whenever he can slip past the obstacles we put up to keep him out, he always goes to the mirror. We have a kind of dark hall leading to the computer room, so we decided to put in a floor-to-ceiling mirror to light things up…and it has. But it turns out Baxter thinks there’s another little dog trapped in there behind the glass. Whenever he sneaks in, he always runs to it, tail wagging, trying to reassure his imprisoned little friend he isn’t alone.
This all started when we tried to help my cousin buy a dog. She got a beautiful one from a breeder, Boudreaux, a gorgeous Shih Tzu, but my lady sort of fell in love with the alternate brought along to allow a choice. I urged her to buy him at the time, but she…of course…had to think about it, and when she decided, the other little black-faced dog had already been sold.
She was devastated, but the breeder said she had another dog, somewhat smaller but with the same coloring…and a LITTLE more active. LITTLE? She had to be kidding. He’s a one-dog hurricane! Right now we have AT LEAST ten toys in the den, the legacy of past dogs but all of them now Baxter’s and fiercely defended. Angel doesn’t seem to mind; she gave up playing with toys a long time ago, and nowadays much prefers our quiet walks in the evening.

After a Hard Afternoon's Play

She knows he’ll calm down someday, but to tell the truth, when it happens, I’m going to miss that little tornado. OH , MY GOD! My lady just brought him into Angel’s and my PRIVATE sanctuary. Just now she’s desperately trying to get him out, but he’s resisting, equally desperately…like any good Shih Tzu would. It may take me a while to reassure Angel, but to tell the truth, she seems much more amused than threatened. I TOLD you Angel was a cool dog!
Love is rare in this world…and diminishing by the second, and personally, I believe GOD sent us dogs to show us just how we should do it, a few growls, occasional bared teeth, then warm cuddles and sloppy kisses…love from a dog’s perspective. I feel sorry for people who don’t believe in God; they’re missing a lot. They probably don’t believe in dogs either.

Don't worry, Little Buddy, I'll get you out somehow.

I read a piece in a scholarly journal the other day, offering  the concept that EVERYTHING is genetic and predetermined: love, kindness, faith, intuition, even hope. Sound familiar? Let it all go…WE’RE MACHINES…no longer responsible, no longer bound by higher law…or anything like personal responsiblilty. To me, it seems like they actually believe it, that all life and existance is automatic, all mistakes understandable, everything locked into a genetic spiral beyond our control. NOBODY IS GUILTY OF ANYTHING. Like I said…sound familiar?
Without guilt, there can be no reward for being good, and without goodness, there can be no God. And THAT’S their goal; destroy the concept of Divinity. These are some really screwed-up people. I can’t help wondering what about God scares them so much, but I think I’m beginning to understand. God messes up their egocentric concept. If there really is a God, He’s bigger, smarter, more powerful and BETTER than we can ever be. Most of us are comfortable with the idea, but not THEM. They can’t allow for any being superior to themselves; it’s too scary that way.  You know, if He’s REAL, they could have ticked Him off, and biblically at least, He can do BOATLOADS if He decides to retaliate.
I think they’re driven by the “dumbing down” principle; if you happen to be dumb, you can’t gain advantage until everybody else is DUMBER than you are, so of course, in your system you naturally come to dumb conclusions. What else would you expect from such perverted concepts?  The last time the planet heard those ideas, they were packaged in propaganda from the Nazi Third Reich.  For the record, Guys, people are not programmed biological devices.  We’re HUMAN BEINGS, unique creatures of flesh, blood, hopes, fears, doubts, choices, and UNLIMITED potential; I think that’s the part those people hate most…potential. It suggests INTELLIGENCE…which they fear…because it pushes them even farther down…where they belong…in my opinion.  Humanity has come too far along the curve of evolution and history to accept anything so demeaning and dangerous.
When you try to explain motivations and actions, you have to be careful not to lose perspective.  Emerson said, “We MURDER to dissect,” and he was right. Tease experience apart and you wind up empty, lonely, confused, and unfulfilled. It’s like a symphony; don’t concentrate on the notes…lose yourself in the wonder of the music, and abandoning the quest for cosmic truth at this point…for my lady and me at least…that music is a fluffy, endlessly active little being with equally active little teeth…and attitude.
I can’t imagine what those benighted people would think about a little dog. If WE’RE machines, he’s probably a slug to them, or maybe more like a wind-up toy, but they’re wrong; even HE has potential. I’ve seen it too many times, and lying just beside my chair is the best example I can think of…Angel. Intelligent, clever, and ENORMOUSLY empathetic, she chooses to put most of it on her back burner, instead concentrating on devotion. She knows when I’m troubled, like when my friend died recently, when I’m tired, or even when I’m hungry.
Another thing…she accepts the concept of responsibility, even though neither SHE nor WE are supposed to possess that quality according to the article. She knows what we expect from her and for years now hasn’t ONCE disappointed us; it’s exactly the opposite. She does MORE than we expect, and she doesn’t do it for praise; she does it because she KNOWS what she has to do for the people she loves. I think those article guys should get a dog…might straighten them out a little.
I know in time Baxter will settle down and be more like Angel, obedient, thoughtful, and loving, but just now I’m having a ball watching a new personality evolve….even if it’s only in a canine and an occasional pain in the ass for Angel. You MECHANICS have fun…if you know how to…if it’s part of your predetermination theory, I mean, but the world is FAR more wonderful than you could possibly imagine. Hope and joy come in many unlikely and unexpected forms…but you don’t look for joy, do you? You look for equations, numbers, and statistical analysis…ANYTHING to support your conceits.
You smug idiots; you’ve missed the whole point of being alive! I know you don’t want God to exist…like you could possibly change cosmic reality. He doesn’t fit your analyses, but believe me, He EXISTS! I was a physician FAR too long to believe otherwise, saw far too many things I couldn’t explain any other way. The funny thing is He seems to love you anyhow, and you should give THAT a little thought. Love is rare, and Divine love is special. I know that, and I’m pretty sure our dogs know it, too. It’s YOU GUYS who are on the outside looking in…tent pissers…all of you.
It’s a waste of time to fight the stupidity principle…anyway, I don’t want to.  I have far more enjoyable things to do…like walking Angel when the light starts dimming, sitting with her watching the stars slowly pop out, then coming in to enjoy a little whirlwind called Baxter before I finally surrender consciousness and go to sleep…with my dog lying on the floor beneath my head. We know who we are, what we want, and what it all MEANS.  Your concept is just plain silly, and I feel sorry for you.  You’re missing so much of the human experience.

I REFUSE to put a picture of Weiner on this blog. There are too many of him on the internet already.

I see he finally fessed up.  Those god-awful, dreary, gray drawers were his after all, and the erection…if it wasn’t a rolled-up sock tucked in for glamor, but he wasn’t hacked, like any hacker would do anything that dumb.  He did it…as if we didn’t already know…because it turns out he’s a terrible liar, not a bad thing for Washington, but also a little stupid, unfortunately the norm up there. We already knew that, too, but it brings up two questions:  has congress morphed into a joke…and what the hell was he thinking?
First of all, Congressman, it isn’t COOL! Do you REALLY believe that’s how you turn girls on? I got a flash for you…it didn’t! She turned your ass in almost as soon as she got the email, and I can assure you that’s pretty much what would happen to any idiot who believes in such infantile foolishness. Since you don’t seem to have a clue, I’ll share what I’ve learned with you. Women respond to kindness, sincerity, and RESPECT. They’re soft creatures, beautiful and endearing, but hung on a framework of STEEL.
Hold the door open for them, shelter them under the biggest part of your umbrella, and treasure their company, because they don’t do ANYTHING without thinking it through. The fact that they’re with you at all means they like you and want to learn more about you. With men and dogs it’s all about sex, but with women it’s all about relationships, possibilities, and FEELINGS. Crass exibitionism is MILES from where their minds are. Sorry to make this so basic, but it seems to me you haven’t grasped the essentials.
They say we give our dogs affection now and then whenever we have nothing better to do, and they respond by giving us absolutely EVERYTHING they possibly can. Women aren’t like that, instead insisting on a reciprocal partnership before they share their love, and if they realize you’re playing games or being insincere, you can kiss any hopes you have for fulfillment goodbye. Women are no-nonsense people…and I for one wouldn’t have it any other way.
A lot of men make the mistake of trying to be the BOSS in a relationship, you know, he who must be obeyed, and women always drop them like hot potatoes, whether they’re married to them or not. That bullshit ended when Queen Victoria died…or haven’t you heard? Women today have important jobs, are as smart as men and frequently better educated, multitask far better than we do, and still find time to love and share a life with those they find and appreciate in the confusing whirlpool of modern living.
Pictures of your drawers just don’t fit in, no matter how endowed you are, but you seem to think otherwise. So, take up your club, climb out of your cave, bash some poor female in the head, and drag her back to be your woman, but I warn you. The police won’t be far behind. Cavemen didn’t have to worry about such things, BUT WE’RE NOT CAVEMEN! We got cops…bless ‘em…and when I see the stuff you’ve been doing, I’m even more grateful for law enforcement in our society.
You’re not only a discredit to congress, something I didn’t think possible in today’s sleazy political culture, you’re a discredit to MASCULINITY.  I wish there were a third sex so we could put you there and forget about you, but there’s not…so all we can do is mark you, avoid you, and hopefully not vote for you again. The rest of us real men are PISSED, and just so you know, I’ll spell it out for you. “Sexting” is not only juvenile and purile, it’s STERILE, a dead end, and DISASTER to any quest for power and influence. That clear enough?
Next time…if there IS a next time, let your brain do the thinking…not your Johnson. God gave you both; you just got a little screwed up about which to listen to, but I gotta tell you. Your penis is not a genius; rely on its advice and you’re back in the cave. You seem to be married to a nice lady, for whom I feel nothing but sorrow. I have no idea what she’s going to make of all this, but be assured, the rest of us have already made up our minds. You’re a LOSER, Congressman Weiner. Personally, I think she’s better off without you…but that’s her call.
When I showed this to my lady before publishing, she said, “They named him right…Anthony Weenie.”   I’ve said it before.  Just when you begin wondering what you’ll write about next, the evening news rescues you.  Goodnight all, and goodnight, Congressman Weenie…you slappy-assed, deceitful moron.

We sit on a soggy rock floating on an ocean of roiling magma, endlessly circling an aging star in a beautiful galaxy we can only see on really dark nights, and sometimes it feels a little lonely…but for me never more than tonight, mostly because I lost a very special friend last week, an older gentleman, somebody I loved, revered, and treasured deep down where nobody else could see. My lady loved him, too. I could see it in her tears when she heard the news…your eyes always betray you.
He was one of those guys you meet only once or twice in a lifetime, a person you feel like you’ve known all your life, even the first time you meet him, friendly, encompassing, willing to share his wisdom, and you instinctively KNOW he would do anything for you…which he frequently did for me. If you were his friend, there were NO limits, and I guess that means everybody, because as far as I know he didn’t have an enemy in the world.
He died suddenly, like death isn’t always sudden, but I’m grateful…no warning, no suffering, no lingering illness…just a swift and conlusive end to a life well lived, not at all like my father’s death. Dad took six years before it was all over, and it was torture for his friends and family, watching him slowly fall apart. He always tried to make the best of it, but deep inside, I knew he was terrified when he wasn’t too miserable to think about anything else.
My friend didn’t have time to say goodbye, a small price to pay for a death in dignity without suffering or terror. Anyway, all of us knew how he felt; he had shown us when he could, so it wasn’t really all that important any more. He lived his life as brilliantly, as incandescently, as well as anyone could, and when it was done, he left…quietly, like a late spring breeze…so like him.
I never thought about him dying; you know how it is, but if I had, I would have hoped for exactly this, serenety, peace, love, and legions of mourners. He deserved it. His family will miss him. Hell, I’ll miss him like crazy, but not only because he was my friend. Somewhat formal, he nonetheless knew just how to weave himself into lives in a way that spoke only of love and devotion. You did it well, my friend, better than almost anybody I can think of.
When I went to the funeral home today It was a shock because I suddenly realized how small he actually was physically, short, wizened, greying, and thin…a dead little old man, but that wasn’t really him. Alive, he was a giant, and that’s how I choose to remember him…soaring up into the clouds. I’m sure he had trials, frustrations, and disappointments like we all do, but I never saw any of it. All I ever saw was a friend, a good friend I loved and thanked God for.
You’re up there now, my friend, in the company of so many I love, so save me a place. I have no idea when my end will come, or how, but it reassures me to know there’s some place for my soul to go to, a friendly place, a peaceful place, a place my loved ones have paved the way for before me. I can almost smell the gumbo up there. My friend loved gumbo. I have no idea how many gumbos he’ll make before I see him again, but I’m sure there’ll be one on the stove when I finally get there. That’s the way he was, a friend for eternity.
My lady says a lot of you are only going to say I’m whining, but I’m hoping she’s wrong.  You critics are out there…I know; I’ve read your comments.  The internet’s a tricky thing, but I choose to believe most of you won’t be too harsh, particularly when you realize how vulnerable I am just now.  I prefer to think a lot of you are honest to God, REAL human beings…and compassionate. Actually, I’m counting on it.  You’ll realize why I’m celebrating…in an empty, lonely, sad sort of way looking up at the Milky Way tonight when I walk Angel.