Not too much to report today. I sent some emails out to some folks I haven't been in contact with in a spell, as my Christmas card list was incomplete this year (hey- we've been busy!). One of those who I sent an email to was my previously mentioned (or alluded to) friend Don. Don was Phil's step son and my best friend for years. As a quick recap, he married a woman who hates me, and that's that. I sent him a quick message and new contact info, but I doubt I'll hear from him. He has reclusive tendencies. None the less, the excercise go me thinking about him and some of the amusing times we'd had. Don was the guy I would compete against in overpass-onto-train urination (most traincars contacted wins). Don was the guy with whom I drank Schaffer Beer (oh the shame). Don was a witness and compadre to some purely inexplicable events that, if I were to try and impart the details, you would call me a liar. More than anything else, he and I were on a tuned but nowhere near mainstream wavelength of humor. One of the habits we had that no one else ever seemed to understand or enjoy was that of the absurd pseudonym. At pretty much any time one or the other of us would extend hand for shaking, and then introduce ourselved with a hopefully funny fictitous name. There were hundreds of these over time, maybe thousands, but I remember what I thought was our two best:
Don: Flexbar Chimpwhistle
Mine: Snodon Bulwark
These would literrly send us into hysterical laughter when we'd generated a funny one. I don't even think we were high, but who knows?
I don't expect I'll hear from him this year, but hope springs eternal.