Celebrated Cinco De Mayo with a loud, prolonged visit to Rooney's. Super dive and supremely perfect place to numb one's wounds. Met by my life long chum, Roger. The two of us toasting to another fruitful trip around the sun. He with rum & coke. Me with icy pints of their finest Woodchuck. Tunes from the jukebox. A drunken lass showing us the stigmatic scars on her leg and tells of being impaled while climbing a fence in NOLA. Excellent BBQ from next door. Roger going for the pulled pork sammich. My plate heaped with terribly delicious brisket. And occasionally, we'd play Mexican music. In part to honor of the holiday. But mostly to have a chuckle and forget about everything else haunting our days. Our own holiday: Cinco De Numb.
Afterwards, back at Ye Ol House, the cider singing behind my eyes and my effing leg finally not hurting, Liam pulls out my old guitar and experiments. Taking classical tunes from his chamber group, his part on the double bass, and playing it on the acoustic. Tries to explain how he's able to translate the notes in real time. But none of the terms stick to my age-slicked gray matter. Harmonic this. Three octaves that. The technicalities aren't what matter. His awesomeness that does. And how effortlessly he does it. A gift we can only pray he grows to appreciate. Where ever it came from...
He's beautiful and talented. My pains are numbed. Roger's still among the living. And we all live happily after.
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