The Old Hypotenuse
Color me relieved.
I slept for maybe eleven and a half minutes altogether last night. I kept replaying yesterday's journal entry in my head, over and over -- the entry about my best friend, and his divorce, and my dumbheaded "joke" about his estranged wife -- and I felt miserably certain that I had just pounded the final nail in the coffin of our friendlationship.
Me slamming his spouse in front of our little circle of friends was bad enough. Turning around and posting a journal entry about slamming his spouse is a whole 'nother kettle of sea monkeys. This is a guy who values his privacy almost as much as he values his Free Design records ... and here *I* am, hanging his cyber unmentionables out on the ol' Internet clothesline. Without permission, or warning, or a percentage of the royalties, even.
I figured I'd really done it this time.
So it felt like a reprieve -- like a little miracle -- to get to work this morning and find the following, waiting for me in my cyber mailbox:
" ... Thank you for that feetnote entry. It was wonderful. I really appreciate it, and YOU do not have to worry about saying ANYTHING that you may think is *out of turn* or whatever that expression is.
God, I love this guy.
I've loved him ever since those early Boom Room glory days ... since the first time he crankily ordered himself off the string mail list ("Take me off this list right now! I mean it!!"). I remember he struck me as this amazingly hip, hilarious, curmudgeonly genius: I was drawn to him instantly. I loved him when he blew into the chat room and got everybody all riled up, just for fun ("He's no knave/That Peter Cave!"). I loved him when he sent me "The Martian Hop," and when we co-wrote "Night of the Prairie Squid" with the other Grillaz, and when we spent an entire weekend in a private chat room, talking me down from that bridge ...
... and I continue to love him to pieces. I always will.
Everybody should have a friend like him.
And you know what else? He's absolutely correct about the "art in everything we do" stuff. It's one of the things that drew us together in the first place ... that ability to take the jotsam and fletsam of ordinary life and turn it into art. (Or something approximating art, anyway.) He does it in his videos, and in the columns he writes, and onstage at the comedy clubs. I do it here on *FootNotes.* It's our way of making sense out of nonsense, I think.
I just hope he remembers this ... and that he continues to use the "everything we do" to create his own brand of unique, life-affirming, OLO-worthy "art" for all the world to enjoy ... and that it helps him get through all of this.
Hang in there, Shnoop. LYWBWBDWI!
P.S. Speaking of creating *art* out of everything we do ... here's the Salon article I contributed to, a couple of weeks back. (Remember "Ask my mom"?)