My friend pH died yesterday. I pulled up to the watering hole where we usually hung out after a long and harrowing clinical shift, and utility vehicles lined the street, digging up some thing or other, bathing the downtown arcade of bars in yellow strobe.
When I walked in, this dude who had appointed himself as the "tell everyone what happened guy" tells me what happened. I look around and saw all of his friends that I knew of, all hanging out, laughing, crying, sharing stories..it was a Wake. I don't know if there's going to be an "official" wake, but this was the wake. This was the group of people who memorialized him -that same day-. His bandmates, his scene, everyone came together to help eachother deal, feel normal, and celebrate a life that had enriched their own.
He could shred on the guitar. Everyone I know describes him as a "guitar prodigy". The only band I know him from was a platform from which he played solos over western-rock murder ballads (songs detailing serious crimes) with both ease and rediculous complexity. If you look around on google video you might catch a glimpse of him, I captured as much as i could of him on video.
He wasn't my friend for a very long time, but as soon as I met him he was so deeply intertwined into the random connections between people from different scenes and places (nursing school, rhode island, downtown newlondon, what?!) that I knew he was part of that cosmic giggle that ...
and then I couldn't finish the sentance.
when i walked into the bar, the guy who told me jostled me (well, we jostled eachother) and I spilled my beer on the floor. "One for my homie", I bleated. We had a good laugh over that.
I hiked up to another local band's practice space and sat around for a while exchanging ribald jokes for a few minutes before retrieivng my cellphone from where i had left it and returning home.
I still can't believe he's gone.
I miss my friend.