Golson Ad Nauseum

I love my friends the Golsons.  The couple getting married in France.  They leave today and last night I was chillin’ at their home, the artists compound.  As I suspected, they left most details for the last minute.  The wedding slide show was not completed, and their vacation ensembles were lying all over, unpacked.  I am admittedly not a good source of assistance in these situations.  Organization is not my strength unless it comes to business.  With leisure, everyone is on their own.  Besides, I’m notorious for hauling wet clothes in my luggage because I will attempt laundry an hour before my plane leaves.

There were a few highlights to report.   Out of hundreds of slide show photos depicting the Golson’s life, I am not in even one.  Um yeah, burn.  Part expected, part don’t-care, part WTF.  Our funnier pics were mostly in Stanley.  She did mention something about not wanting to re-live that part of her life because of the accident.  When we there, she rolled her rig down a hill while she was piss-drunk.  The irony?  I was walking down that hill alone from the same river rat party and was the first to arrive on the scene.  Now why was that ironic?  Our friendship wasn’t even close enough for her to offer me a ride or I would’ve rolled down that hill with her.  I’ve always had a penchant for being sidelined at crucial moments like these, guardian angel maybe.  Anyways, she maintains it was life-changing.  I will maintain that it was the same shit; different day. 

For their wedding gift, I will be re-upholstering and gifting my chaise lounge they love so much.  I’m not in the slide show, they filled up their jet-set guest list before they ever said “boo” to me, and their demeanors have become increasingly narcissistic, BUT, I still love them.  They are like the annoying successful siblings I never had.

Professionally, they are moving up on the food chain.  Having networked here and there, they may be designing a very popular nightclub spot downtown.  It’s only good to have friends in high places, if they can actually remember being at a lower altitude…haha…otherwise, it’s just an empty claim.

I called Aztec Gold last night, and we talked on the phone for a whole couple of hours.  Our conversation was actually filled with substantive topics.  He really can spar with my head trip on life.  It’s that old soul country boy wisdom.  When talking about friendships, he described them as “fecal”…haha…he meant “fickle”.  He sold me on both descriptions. 

Aztec has managed a sober existence for 3 years, he has a strong desire to drink these days.  I told him under no circumstances.  That everything is so much better in hi-def lucidity.  This from the fountain of recklessness.  I made it convincing enough.  I hope.

I will finally see him in a couple weeks.  Then I can wrap my arms around him and breathe him in.  His birthday is June 16th, he will be 26.  I have to think of the best gift.  Sharper Image maybe.