Look, it's a video I took of absolutely terrible quality of you playing a song at Celia's coffee house!
Oh wait, no it's not. Lie. I can't get it to embed. It's just a picture of you at the only open mic I will allow myself to attend at this point in my life, solely because you play there on occasion.
You are one of my favorite people, someone from whom I've learned a lot about the measure of my words and a little bit about boundaries too.
I've been proud to play a tiny part in encouraging your musical efforts, because as you know I've spent a lot of time listening to dudes play guitar and it is the measure of your talent and of my healing ears that I can say very honestly that I would choose to listen to yours even if you weren't my friend.
And I'll go to an open mic night. On purpose. I just wanted to reinforce that point.
Selfishly, you give me hope that some good ones are still out there. I admire your family and the way you embrace your life and your home, your personal integrity and your spirit.
And although I will never, ever, EVER root for the Philadelphia Flyers or stop short of wishing them anything but a crushing loss against any team but the Pittsburgh Penguins, it is in your honor that I really usually hope the Eagles and the Phillies win even though I don't really care so much about football or baseball. I may even pull for them mentally a little bit. I figure it's the least I can do. Because it's a real friend from Philly who feels genuinely bad for you when the Capitals flame out in the playoffs, even if it is at the hands of that jackass Sidney Crosby (but if that shared loathing doesn't bond us I don't really know what could.)
Happy birthday, dude. I hope this year finds you living the dream even more clearly. You deserve everything good.