The name Miguel has appeared on the pages of The Nut since its inception.
He and I served in The Peace Corps in Honduras together from '94-'96. We have been drinking, bullshitting, concert going, philosophical speaking, pool playing, kayaking and boating buddies for the last 7 years.
If I have ever had a complaint about this stellar compadre it is that he drinks a bit above moderation on a regular basis and that it is damn near impossible to get him to do anything on your terms. If you want to do what he wants to do then all is well. But do not expect him to go along with what you want to do.
For a number of reasons, mostly not enough hours in the week and each of us having more obligations than in years past, Miguel and I have been finding essentially zero time to meet and toss back a few over the last several months.
The phone calls have become fewer and further between. The hang out sessions are monthly rather weekly. The last minute cancellation or change of plans on his part is just as frequent as ever.
I put out an invite today for him and his SO to come down to my place (about 16 miles south) for the Super Bowl. The last time we saw eachother was December 30th. The email response was "Thanks, but I think I'll watch that on my end of town at my place or my SO parent's place or something."
So here is a significant event (in our lame ass eyes anyway) which we have watched together most every year. I step up and plan for it to be at my place for a change this year. Aspiring for the full treatment the event deserves. He chooses not to make it because of unsolidified plans to watch it at his place alone... or maybe somewhere else. He isn't quite sure. But he won't be able to make it down to my place. That much is for certain.
I'm afraid it's time to let go and to allow 'things' to drift where they will. I'm not going to be the only one to struggle for a friendship that seems to have seen it's days.
I'm not embarrassed to cry over this nor am I ashamed to post about it. This is, I guess, a tribute to my fondest friendship. From the days of smoking on the island Roatan, to the countless concerts, from the way too long of periods of celibacy interspersed by the occasional girlfriend, to the road trips to Virginia and Asheville, from midnight kayaking ventures, to the vomit inducing biking junkets, and of course the christening of The Sea Weeder. These are the memories I will keep.
Certainly we will see eachother when occasion arises. Perhaps the next Allman Brothers Show. The distance between us is not great. But a chapter has obviously concluded itself.
All the best, friend. All the best.