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Entry date: 12-8-2023 – 18 Holes – Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,

Played 18 holes last night in Scottsdale. Michael took Liam and I to Putting World (or something like that) way the heck out there for a Christmas party thing. It was fun. We did their 18-hole putting course and it was good practice for the real thing. Nice facility, too.

Liam was on fire for some of the course and got like four holes in one over the 18 and there was one hole where we drilled our first shot back-to-back. Good time were had, and it was interesting people watching, too. It’s always fun to be in a room where you know absolutely no one other than the people you are with. You can watch anonymously.

The biggest take away was that everyone seemed to be having a good time. That was so nice to see and be around. Nobody looked bummed out or was getting pissy because they couldn’t sink a put. The food was good, too, and there was an open bar. We only had one beer, though. Nice boys, we are.


Happy birthday to Dorothy and Eric. They probably won’t see this, and I wrote about them both last year on this day, but that’s no excuse. I didn’t get to spend nearly enough time with either of them in the last 12 months. Such is life, though.

At times in my life, both of them have been my best friend. That’s something I don’t take lightly or say just because it is their big day. It’s just the truth. At different times, I would have been a mess without them, and I thank them for helping me stay smiling and feeling loved.


One of my favorite memories of Eric is just a really random memory from Hollywood Alley. We’d gotten to know each other a bit from Hillbilly and Fluidrive (his band) playing together a few times. We were going to start the band that would become Pinky and I shared that with Eric. He was down to jam and there it was. A band was born. I can still see the look on his face when I told him about what we were thinking of doing. It was the minute I knew he and I were going to make some cool stuff together.


Dorothy and I and whatever other friends were around would sometimes go to the old Duck and Decanter in the southeast valley. I’m not sure if it was Tempe, Mesa, or Chandler, to be honest. Probably Tempe. It was a cool spot and there was a little pond outside where you could go and sit. We would talk and laugh and sometimes share a tear.

We were always trying to find a peaceful place, I think, that we could just be ourselves and enjoy the moment. We had so many moments. When we get together now, it’s still always a wonderful time. I wish I could go back and have another chat next to the pond with Dot, though. What would we tell our teenage selves?


The cocaine baby tried to get my goat yesterday, but he failed. He wanted me to lose my stack so bad. I could see it in his eyes. Today, I’m going to disarm him right off the bat. I have a great idea for how to make his day for him in the first 30 minutes of class and if it works, he’ll have the best school day he’s had in a long time. If it doesn’t work, he’ll still have a moment that he can feel good about for the rest of the day.

I realized that the other kids do want to like him. They were so understanding of his struggle yesterday. It was written across so many of their faces. He was on a mission to get whatever attention he could, no matter what, and a few of my kids who also like to grab the attention of the class got a good glimpse of what not to do. There was real empathy in the room. I can build from that.

We all can build from a little empathy occasionally.

See you tomorrow.

Steve and I at the beach in the late 90s.

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