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O Pal o' Mine

	Dave was a pal of mine. He was hosting a big bash that night and preparations were expected. I arrived late and knocked on his door to present my offerings: shrimp cocktail tray and hash brownies. He approved. We entered arm-in-arm to take on the night.
	Dave's flat was something of a temple to the arcane, decorated tonight by willing acolytes. They were taking turns on the occult pinball machine in the living room corner, sipping on absinthe on the lavalamp garden balcony, and playing cards by candlelight in the kitchen. Transient wallflower musicians tuned their strings behind the beaded curtain and awaited their signal from the downward ducks. I brought my tribute to the table and joined the fray.
	Will was seated cross-legged on the floor in the living room where he could be seen extolling the virtues of flossing in between vape puffs. "Nine out of ten dentists think it's a good idea," he mused, "but the other one is saying 'hey, you get to taste your food twice!' That's an offer you can't refuse." The downward ducks were convinced, but I was careful not to think about it for too long. Will was the sort that the longer you were exposed to the more sense he started to make, and that can be a dangerous thing.
	"Did you know the American government has billions of pounds of cheese in storage this very minute?"
	"Hmm?" He had my attention.
	"It's true. They got it all locked up for when the bombs drop. Bilderburgs'll control the wasteland and distribute the cheese in little fiefdoms, Cheesedoms, you might call them." I had to get out of there for my own sake. He was probably right about the cheese but I didn't want to be convinced. Will was always going on about the apocalypse and I knew sooner or later he was going to be right.
	He then produced a bell and rung it six times in a waltz and announced: "Before we begin I shall ejaculate the truth." A bunch of us giggled but tried to be respectful. Will was always using old words he found in old books. He rung once more with purpose  and then a hush fell upon the room and Will's eyes became serious, more than they had ever been before, even when discussing an apocalypse. The ducks turned upward and the pinball machine tilted and the wallflowers rattled the beads and the card game continued because they couldn't hear all of this from the kitchen.
	"The truth, people, is that your bodies are here on planet Earth, this stinking heap of a planet Earth, but your spirits people, your spirits, they are on Planet Nirvana. And if the powers that be ever catch wind that we caught on, they'd be powerless." He rung the bell six times in a waltz with purpose. "Let's get fucked up!" The terminally misunderstood transient wallflower musicians took their cue, found their courage, and kicked off the night armed with guitar, bongo, tamborine, and terrific influences. People danced and cheered and drank their beer. Will could convince anyone who was drunk.
	"Good eve' my fellow Buddhas," chimed Dave as he did the rounds in his kimono, his wild red hair reaching for heaven like Jack's beanstalk. "Namastay, cutie pies- where's Anthony? Ground control to Anthony." The Buddha thing was new but that was Dave. He was always searching along the frontier of possibility, seeing what lay under the unturned stones of his mind. Part of me also figured he was getting laid. Those Buddha girls with their hairy legs and dreadlocks clung to him to flies to shit. "Now girls, you've got to remember The Dharma, man. The Dharma The Dharma The Dharma." They nodded their heads in a row. Like Will, he was starting to make sense after a while so I found a new setting. My third eye was wide shut and that's the way I liked it.
	I found Anthony checking his watch on the balcony. He never liked these things and came as a favor to me. He always had to be convinced of a party, even if it was his own going-away party. He saw me and looked up. "There he is. You really kept me waiting Jules, you know that? I stayed busy though. Jessica's here." He was already drunk. The lavalamps cast blue orbs across the garden of Dave's homegrown herbs and vegetables.
	"All packed up?" I shook his hand.
	"Yeah. Wasn't much worth taking. Besides, isn't the idea to start fresh?"
	That was the idea. Anthony was shipping out West to Vancouver in long tradition of wayward souls. The Eastern freeze cooled their hearts and so they struck Westward for warmer hearth. Their souls lay glittering on the shores of the Pacific and howled in agony to be reuinited with their poor sad bodies that spawned in the wrong spot. Why should they be hamstrung by coincidence? Coincidence is a lousy reason to assign importance to things. Anyway the grass out West was greener and everybody knew it.
	Anthony excused himself to get another drink. I looked out onto the downtown Ottawa skyline and smoked a cigarette while the music came through the screen door. I find Ottawa especially beautiful in the summertime, when the days are long into the night and the maple trees along the canal stand green and triumphant. The chickadees soundtrack your movements and the uncontested sun lights your path. Every kind of person is looking for action and the sidewalks crackle with anticipation. The city lives and dies and lives again. I know it's common to prefer the fire-colored leaves of autumn or skating on the canal in the winter, but they've never had me convinced, and to be honest I can't skate.
	I went back into the party as Shepherd Dave had escaped his flock to do some more rounds as the band played on. "What a de-licious display of dharma." His hips carried him across the room like a marionette. "Yeah man yeah man. I'm alright, man." That was Dave. He didn't need a party to light up. His brain was a nest of fireflies and his eyes shone incandescent in the wild night. "This is a fine time to have an afternoon. Don't I always say that?" He had never said that before, but it was said, and it was a new Davism, and he would repeat it like a mantra until it was rote and we liked it.
	I rubbed my eyes. "Dave, you got any coffee?"
	"Yeah man, yeah man."
	"Ethically sourced arabica beans, Dave?"
	"Yeah man, be the bean, man."
	He didn't need any assistance. He was all Dave all the time. He grabbed the nearest girl, started shaking like a poltergeist, and within minutes a dance floor had materialized from the aether. It swelled to consume the room like a gamma irratiated fungus, and if not for the containing walls I'm certain it would have swallowed the city, maybe even the next city over too. "Hoo-wee, I'm higher than the Matterhorn! Don't I always say that?"
	I met the man innocently enough. Schoolmates with common interests and contrary sensibilities. We balanced and complemented each other. I was the ham on his rye and he was the pinapple on my pizza. The lemon spritz in my Coca-Cola. The Mars bar in my pillowcase. The bee's knees and in between. We got along like peas in a pod, fish in a can, odds in a sod, and green eggs and ham. What I'm saying is we were friendly.
	"What do you wanna be when you grow old?" I'd ask.
	"I don't intend to grow old. I intend to cling to life like flies to shit, and when my time comes I will reject the universal offer and keep on clinging. Living really is the best. Don't I always say that?"
	This was in fact something Dave always said. He had an unrivaled, indefatigable zest for life and all of its flavors. He'd read any book that entered his tunnel vision, listen to any record that moved to the beat of his ear drum, and smoke every plant sucked through his iron lung. He would try anything once, and most things twice. "Batter up!" He bellowed as he excused himself from his dance floor disciples.
	"Jules! Come jive." We went onto the balcony to get some fresh air. He passed the plant.
	"What a time to be alive, eh Julie?"
	"Truly." I inhaled.
	"Life is strange, isn't it?"
	"Sure is." I exhaled.
	"That Will is something else, eh?"
	"He's something alright." I passed it back.
	"Listen, Julie." He paused to smoke then paused again. "I really think he's onto something. We've been going on hikes in the Gatineau Hills and taking mushrooms man."
	"Yeah?"
	"Yeah we're pretty fun-guys," he grinned ear to ear, smoke coming out of his nose. I'm a sucker for bad jokes and he knew it. Dirty pool. "But seriously." He passed it back. "You really should come. Even if you don't take any, Will is a fucking genius man." He was doing a lot of gesturing with his hands and his eyes were wide with purpose and his grin was set fixed for so long that it appeared sinister. I had never seen Dave like this before. Ever since moving out on his own he's become wilder, but he was still Dave dammit, and he knew a good time when he saw it. The band inside was lowering the tempo.
	"Okay." I exhaled.
	"Yes! Yes! Good stuff Julie. It's going to be a gas. A real ball. Don't I always say that?"
	"You know my name, look up the number." I tossed the squashed roach over the balcony into the downtown summer streets then we re-linked arms and went back inside.
	The party really picked up after that and I didn't see much of Dave for the rest of the night. I could sense him but I could never really find him. The place was starting to become crowded and the faces became strange. My only landmark was a purposeful ring of the bell from Will, but even that became lost in the crowd. I pushed through the crowd to the kitchen to get something to drink and found Anthony sitting in the card game. He was more at ease than he had been before. Here in a crowd of strangers he was in his element. He sucked the milk of anonymity and spat out expectations.
	As the hour drew late the herd dwindled and the environment became more hospitible to me and less hospitible to Anthony so we left the kitchen and said our goodbyes at the door. I stuck out my hand. "I think that's the longest you've ever stayed at a party." I smiled. I can't help but smile when saying farewells. The only other option is a display of sorrow, and who wants that as a resting memory of someone?
	"You're welcome." He said sarcastically. He paused a moment then became serious. "Well, this is goodbye for now Jules."
	"We had a good run."
	"Don't be a wiseguy. I'll be back for holidays, and you'll come visit, and you might even like it so much you want to stay too." He looked very sullen.
	"Sure Tony."
	"You know I don't like it when you call me Tony."
	"I don't like it when you call me Jules."
	"That's different. Everyone calls you Jules."
	"Not my mother. Not your mother." I grinned at him. "Get home safe pal. Give me a ring tomorrow before your flight." We waved our goodbyes and he walked down the stairs and I wanted to cry but it just wasn't there.
	I went back inside and walked over to the couch to talk to the musicians and shake their hands before going outside for a cigarette. While I was out there I met Jane although later would wish that I hadn't. I felt the night ending and the horrible wretched sun on its way to ruin the fun so I prepared a round of goodbyes. The musicians got another round of shakes for good measure, because musicians are very sensitive and need to know they're appreciated. I hated to say goodbye but I had to do it. Smile and say goobye. It's not farewell, it's just goodbye.

	Sarah, nice to meet you.
	Jessica, pleasure as always.
	Mary Anne, stay out of trouble.
	Will, thanks for the show.
	Destiny, namastay.
	???????, oh you.
	Andrew, say hi to your brother for me.
	Jane, looking forward to it, see you then.

Dave,
I hope you don't become washed out in a flood of your own creation. I hope that under each unturned stone in your mind isn't another unturned stone. I hope that you find whatever truth you're searching for out there, and I hope that truth moves mountains, splits rivers, and cracks the sky asunder. I hope that your soul is satisfied and your belly full and your heart filled to bursting because of it. I hope you remember it all just as I do. *(This part is crossed out but I don't know how to do that in pastbin)

	I hope that everyone on this shitheap of a planet knows the joy of having a pal like you. Thanks for the party, good night Dave.
									Love, Julian