Sometimes at work, I tend to get a little bit too involved in the music that I have pumping into my brain via my headphones. On more than one occasion, I've had a coworker come by my desk to talk about something, only to catch me in the middle of a decidedly unprofessional head-bobbin-to-the-beat session. Totally Micheal Bolton in "Office Space." The first time you and I met was one such occasion. It was your first day at work on your new job doing tech support. I'd been there a few months, so they sat you with me to "train."
"What are you listening to?"
"The Roots."
And like that, we were friends, off and running. Funny how the topic of music can do that.
At some point, somebody decided that I should be put in a position of managing people...like, telling them what to do and shit. You were placed on my team. It was cool having you around because you did a great job and you didn't sweat the small stuff, but it was powerfully awkward being in a managerial position with you. Not just because we had gotten to be friends outside of work, but also because, while I may be a reasonably intelligent fellow, you my friend are some kind of genius freak, and we both know it. Quit acting so humble. Stop it. Stop it right now!
A whole lot of people in Austin were sad when you moved away, myself included. I miss your fucked-up sense of humor and your ability to make sarcasm seem somehow fresh again. We're both dads now, so a lot of our conversations these days center around the awesomeness and sometimes not-so-awesomeness of our kids and of being the one called Pops. Last time you were in town, we spent half an hour playing with damn near every item in stock at the toy store. Judging by the conversations you were making some of those puppets have, I'd say that dark sense of humor of yours is still very much intact.
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