BrandiBlog

Back in the wild days of my early 20’s I had a close friend named Tony.  He and I were inseparable.  At least 5 nights a week we were out whooping it up, partying our asses off all over Tempe and Scottsdale.  In a time when all of our mutual friends were starting to settle down and get married, Tony and I were the two who always kept the party going.

Wednesday nights we would drink half yards of beer and talk trash at the brewing company down on Mill Avenue.  Thursday nights you could always find Tony and I drinking 25 cent drafts and one-dollar Long Islands at Club Rio and dancing to White Zombie.  Friday nights we’d be the ringleaders of saki bombers at Ichi Ban and then move our drunken group over to ACME or Martini Ranch.  Saturday nights we always organized a group to go dancing at Anderson’s Fifth Estate.  Sundays were reserved for either a mellow night on the patio at Casey Moore’s or a wilder evening of dancing to disco covers played by the Boogie Nights at Gibsons.

Not only was Tony my drinking and dancing buddy, but also the person who I spent hour after hour with talking about love, relationships, family, and who we wanted to be when we “grew up”.  He was my sounding board, my confidante, my ally.  I would always joke that he was the male version of me.  I adored Tony.  I always knew that he had my back and would give it to me straight, even when I didn’t want to hear the ugly truth sometimes.  He was my best friend.

As things often go, we drifted apart in our late 20’s.  He got a girlfriend, Susan, who I pretty much despised.  She was a crazy wannabe goth girl who confided in me on a drunken night that she thought she was way too good for him.  Bitch.  And I got busy being a teacher, hanging out with a new group of friends, and turning into a different person.  These things happen.  It was sad that we went our separate ways, but we kept in touch on occasion.

About 5 years ago Tony called and said that he was sick.  With what, you may ask?  Multiple Sclerosis.  I didn’t know much about MS.  I had never known anyone who had MS.  However, what I did know was that Tony wasn’t the same guy anymore.  The once fun-loving person was suddenly grouchy, bitter and negative.  He couldn’t remember things and would make rude remarks to anyone who crossed his path.  He turned into a nasty man who I didn’t want to deal with.  It got too hard being friends with someone so mean.  So I put even further distance between he and I.  It has now been almost 2 years since I last spoke to Tony.

Earlier this evening I got a call from my cousin Jason, who was also a friend of Tony.  Jason told me that Tony’s brother John had just called and told him that Tony died last night.  Hearing this, I felt like Chuck Lidell had just punched me in the stomach.  Dead?  Tony is dead???  He was only 36.  How the fuck is THAT fair?

His funeral is on Saturday and I plan on going with Jason.  It’s going to be strange to say goodbye.  I feel so much guilt for not being a better friend.  He died not knowing how much I appreciated his friendship.  He died not knowing anything or anyone–he didn’t even recognize his own family anymore.  Multiple Sclerosis can be evil that way.  Not only did it rob him of his body, but it also consumed his brain.  I hate MS more than any other thing in the world right now.

Anyhow, Tony, if you’re with me in spirit like you always said you’d be, here’s the plan:  this coming Saturday night a group of us from the good old days are going to Andersons for a drink and to celebrate your life.  I’m going to get the party started for you one last time and drink a Coors Light in your memory.  And if we get really lucky, maybe the dj will play some White Zombie.   Even though you won’t be there physically to dance with me, I’ll know you’re there.  Salud, my Columbian Amigo.  And buenos noches penoches.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 12th, 2007 at 8:05 pm and is filed under Family, Friends, Life, Music. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your site.