morbid coincidence
I found out, today, that Andy Jones died. I don't know any details. I don't know how to feel, yet. I have good memories of Andy Jones from high school. He was a talented dude. He had the ability to do whatever it was he chose to do, very well. He knew how to be excellent. He'll be missed. I dunno if I have a favorite Andy memory. The first thoughts about him that came to my head were about the band he was in called Split... and then about high school... show choir trips, nights in the barn ... and then I remembered running into him once at UMASS ... and then the last time I saw him, at a company christmas party a couple years ago, for a company that a couple of other friends worked for, including Drew. What kept popping into my head was how he had an almost word-association type reaction to certain bands. If I mentioned the Pixies, he'd say, "Man, whenever you mention the Pixies, I immediately think, 'Cariboooooooooooooou...' and whenever the Dead Milkmen came up, he'd say, "I have nothing against the Dead Milkmen, but there was this kid back in Indiana, and he loved that song Takin Retards to the Zoo, played it on repeat a lot, kinda turned me off to them..." There were so many in-jokes, ridiculous phrases and stuff that have absolutely no meaning, now, rattling around in my head...
I'm not sure if it's sad or not, but this news totally distracted me from the fact that it's been four years since my dad died. I think I would have gone the whole day without realizing it, if Sarah had not mentioned it. I'm not sure I realized it last year, but I think Sarah's mom might've mentioned it. The Dad memory that came to mind tonight, as we were driving home from our friend Jessica's housewarming party was about Dad giving me directions. It was one of those first trips that I took from Woonsocket to my parents' house. I was going to head back the way I came and I mentioned that there's probably some other road I could take that winds through Connecticut. Dad suggested a route. It was a couple windy roads that did exactly that. The best part was that he said "and you'll be on this road, and just about the time you say, 'where the hell am I?' you'll hit Route 44." And that is exactly what happened. I think I even said it out loud... not realizing that I was fulfilling his prophecy until the moment it happened.
I dunno what is more saddening... but the coincidence is morbid.
I'm not sure if it's sad or not, but this news totally distracted me from the fact that it's been four years since my dad died. I think I would have gone the whole day without realizing it, if Sarah had not mentioned it. I'm not sure I realized it last year, but I think Sarah's mom might've mentioned it. The Dad memory that came to mind tonight, as we were driving home from our friend Jessica's housewarming party was about Dad giving me directions. It was one of those first trips that I took from Woonsocket to my parents' house. I was going to head back the way I came and I mentioned that there's probably some other road I could take that winds through Connecticut. Dad suggested a route. It was a couple windy roads that did exactly that. The best part was that he said "and you'll be on this road, and just about the time you say, 'where the hell am I?' you'll hit Route 44." And that is exactly what happened. I think I even said it out loud... not realizing that I was fulfilling his prophecy until the moment it happened.
I dunno what is more saddening... but the coincidence is morbid.