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Thursday, December 19, 2013
missing Joey Gatski
Listening to:Most Likely You'll Go Your Way and I'll Go Mine, Dylan and the Band
Reading:Gandhi by Chuck DiSalvo
Weather:53, sunny
I heard others say he told them "call me Joseph." He never told me that. He put up with me calling him Joey all the years I knew him.

The sun came out today, so welcome and warm, here in the darkest part of the year and after days and days of overcast skies and a very cold late fall. A pair of sweet wonderful infidels brought me lunch today at work, we talked local politics and local infidel scene stuff.

Since I lunched indoors on this beautiful day I decided to take an afternoon break to walk up the street, stretch my legs, breathe outdoor air. I had on short sleeves and no jacket. As I strode up High Street on the sunny side I hear "hey Cat!" behind me. I turn around to see my friend B coming out of Gibbie's. He's a character worthy of his own lengthy blogpost. But suffice it to say for today, I was glad to see him and say hi. He said come see my son. Our kids are about the same age and ate tofu hot dogs together when they were toddlers. I see a tall young adult there at the bar, greet him though we don't really know each other.

OK, just one beer. A Nate's Nut Brown, perfect afternoon break one-off brew. We smalltalk it a bit. Why are there so many vodkas on this shelf in front of us? Sheesh, 10 flavors just of one brand, and several brands beyond that. B says he was under the bridge the other day with a pint of vodka, couldn't get anybody to share it with him. Dang, you didn't call me. Too bad Joey Gatski wasn't still here, he'd have helped a brutha out there.

B says Joey and I used to drink under those stairs over there. Yeah, Joey and I used to drink in the woods along the bank above Deckers. And a few other out of the way spots where you're right in the middle of town but somehow no one sees you or knows you're there.

B related how one time he and Joey were in the national forest, had been hiking a couple of days. Joey would wedge a dime in the rocks and they'd wait and watch an eagle swoop down past it, catching the glint in the sun. B, after Joey's stern warning about this hillside being slippery, slipped down a bank and got snagged in a V in the brush. B says "I felt it go and I said, 'see ya later, Joey!'" Joey was surprisingly strong, reached down and pulled me up outta there. We kept on going.

B says one time when I was a teenager, not even old enough to drink, Joey's dad Gunner saved me from a barfight. I wasn't willing to put up with this banker's son's bullshit, and I aimed to flatten him, but Gunner grabbed me by the back of the neck and sat me down. I got a friend out of a DUI by trading Gunner's signed football card for representation for my buddy. The press loved Gunner. He didn't even have a phone, his cousin had to go down to his trailer from up the hill to tell him they got the phone call that he was in the Hall of Fame.

OK, time for me to get back to work. Nice break.


permalink posted by cat 5:38 PM

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missing Joey Gatski
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