18 or 19 years ago in the yards of Slider Middle School I was introduced to a nerdy looking loner dude wearing tan colored thick framed glasses and a Lakers hoodie. It was gym time, but my fat ass even though I was in football, didn’t really care to partake in those activities too much and obviously neither did this loner guy. Funny thing is that he really didn’t even want to talk to me either. The bastard shrugged me off as if he didn’t really want to be bothered. Much less bothered by some short fat asshole wearing a Metallica t-shirt and big glasses of his own. I never saw him again at that school.
Fast forward a year or two to June 1996. I had just finished my freshman year of high school and I was on a band trip to Hawaii. It was our first night there and we were having a pool party. We were all having fun and enjoying the beautiful Waikiki evening when somebody made some sort of a gay reference as for me to hug, or something to that effect to this guy in the pool. I can’t really remember what was said honestly, but it was something like “Alex blah blah blah David”. Of course I played right along. Little did I know that that would be the beginning of a friendship that would go on through a lot of difficult moments and defining moments of my life and at least a few of his.
Soon after that trip we became inseparable. Hell, why wouldn’t we be? We were the two outcasts. Nobody wanted to hang with us. We weren’t jocks, we weren’t really nerds, we were just two fat and lazy assholes who generally kept to themselves. Sure we had a few mutual friends and whatnot, but for the most part it was always Alex and I. I started spending all my time with him. It was hilarious. My brother and his sibling started calling us married! Hahaha! Soon enough, a third member of our little group came into the fold and it was Alex, Joe, and I.
There are so many stories I could share. Everything from having our backyard wrestling federation where we actually threw a PPV and I damn near broke my back, to all the eating challenges on those Friday nights, the sleepovers, or the time when Alex was trying to be cute with one of the band director’s staplers and the motherfucker STAPLED the top of my right knee. The look of terror on his face that he imbedded a staple into my flesh was priceless. Once I pulled the staple out (selling the move a bit obviously) and started laughing, things were hilarious after that. We did it all. He was there for every step.
Things went on after high school. Our group of friends who for some reason all of a sudden thought we were so popular in our senior year of high school kinda dwindled down and by the time that drinking age came along, we were right along with it. College was there and we were both working full time and going to school full time but damn if that infamous summer of 2003 didn’t come along. Sweet baby Jesus was that insane. There should be a film written about that year and the summer in particular. Lives were changed that summer. One thing that never really changed throughout all of that was Alex and I. It was always us two in the end. After the party was done, I’d be the last one there. When everybody ran to their significant others, it would be Alex and I that were left there alone. It happened so many times that it became a running bit with us.
We always knew that in the end we’d both end up alone there. Sure we had our solid group of friends, Josh, Adrian, the revolving door of people that came through Chus to see Johnny Sausage Esq., Julia, later Annie, Alex, and I and share stories, cigarettes, cigars, soda, and booze. Lots and lots of booze. In the end, it was just us two. The two loner, anti-social outcasts that somehow gathered a group of people to hang out with them. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was the meals of food that were shared. Maybe it was the music selection of hard rock and heavy metal from the 70s onward with some good gangsta rap mixed in. Who can forget about the funky ghost?! Haha! Maybe the better question is who can remember him?!
Well, long story short the story is taking a little turn now. The day that we thought probably won’t come is here. One of us is going away. Not for good. Not dying. Just moving away. I am typing this now tearing up at the thought of all the good memories that have been had. It’s been a great 17 years of fun. But, things change. People gotta move their shit sometimes. Hell, I know I’m going to move at some point in the near future, so I always knew this day would come. It’s not like we’re breaking up or anything, but now the convenience of getting a text like “fuck the gym, let’s get fat! Meet me at …” won’t happen anymore. Random times of getting together to hang out won’t happen. Monday Night Football to praise Robbie Gould and his twinkie goodness won’t happen anymore (Goulden Boys for LIFE, son!!!). Now we’re going to have to schedule vacation times to see each other and stuff. That’ll be cool though. New places to see, new adventures to be had. This isn’t the end, it’s just a change.
With all that shit said I gotta say it’s been fun. I love my brother Alex. I always have and I always will. He’s my heterosexual lifemate. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Dude is moving up to St. Louis on Monday morning and God knows everything is going to be alright. Let this be a lesson to y’all. Cherish the people you have around you. Acknowledge the love that you have. Let the good people in because chances are a lot of good will come out of it.
In the words of James Hetfield… Hugz n’ Middle Fingerz!