It’s been a long haul, you and I, but we’re still going strong.
I remember us not liking each other in 7th grade. I was actually scared of you when I first met you. But by 8th grade we were getting in trouble together and listening to all of your punk records every day.
We lived a street apart, were at each other’s houses all the time, staying the night, welcome like family.
I ate all your mom’s cookies and drank all the instant tea from your fridge.
I watched you learn to change Josh’s diapers. Now your fully grown boys still call me Uncle.
I call you Brother. It’s never not made sense.
If any of your kids or wife reached out I’d help them as my own. We are family and always will be.
You call me now at 6am on your way home from a night at work, at the same time I’m going to work.
Occasionally we go for months not talking, but we always pick back up where we left off as if not even a second has gone by.
It’s been a pleasure to walk this earth with you, sometime next to you, always in spirit with you.
I always look forward to the next movie or concert we will easily do a turnaround plane flight for, with not a second thought – DEN>LAX or LAX>DEN; as easily as if we were walking over to see each other again as teens, from Banyan St. to Imperial Ct. or visa versa.
Can’t wait to see Jawbox together. Can’t wait for the next movie. Concert. Oh fuck, who even needs a reason.
Let’s keep this up. Til the end.
Happy birthday, Tony Martinez. I love you, brother.
—lance webber
Flommist Lance Webber is in the band. Copyright © 2019 Lance Webber.
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