Harris, friend of 12 years. Played guitar in my living room yesterday evening, slept on the couch bed. I crept down at 4:30am to wake him for his airplane, curled on the couch bed with him and chuckled about old times while he squeezed me hard and declared I was as not-frail as ever. He's living in rural Mexico, making music and eating avocados the size of my head. I dropped him off at the deserted airport as the sun rose, kissed him goodbye and sent him on his way. That fellow has a perpetual twinkle in his dilated eyes, I just love him. He's off to San Francisco for a week, and I hope it doesn't take another 4 years to hang out again.
Harris?! One word: wow
ReplyDelete-HS
no kidding, huh? But he's all there, from his low chuckles to the twitchy winks and unrufflable humor. He's gotta be one of the most go-with-the-flow people ever, and he's lived a lot the last 10 years between Boston and Mexico. Tres cool. We need a reunion, yes? Except without C. and Z.
ReplyDeleteHarris: "And it wasn't the amphetamines!"