I miss Randy. Kind of friend you only get once in a lifetime. You could talk to him, or not talk. Either way, he was totally there with you. He had that thereness, man.
Randy loved this kind of music. Lilting horn solo, aching with soul. Almost kills me to listen to it now, but I still do. I do it for him. To remember. To feel whole again.
And it’s times like these I wish I’d never chewed all his stuffing out.