Abilene’s Celebrity:
We meet in ice cream shops, and coffee shops, and burrito shops. Often adorned in the robes of these local favorites as if to stick it to “the man”– HEB, Nicki’s Swirl Shop, Sharky’s Burritos, Texas Rangers, AHS, but occasionally a sharp dressed button down shirt, just because you can.
Hey Kyle, w..w..wat u doin’? Where u ben? Guess wat. I.. I.. I.. I got girlfrwen’/guwlfran/job/new phon.
I don’t have to ask if others know you, they greet you as kin when you walk in. I might be offended at the way friends treat you, but you have become one of us, a friend, an expected and beloved piece of a beautiful and oddly shaped puzzle. We laugh. We fight. We serve each other food. We wrestle. We cry. We find creative ways to wake the other from a nap, careful not to press too hard lest one gets a little too angry. We use each other’s phones – well mostly you use mine and I steal yours to get you up to follow me to the car so we can leave. Solid. Simple. Shared. Certain I’ll see you on the flip side.
You stuttered unabashed or aware that we were listening, nonetheless became a defender, declaring your rich relationships with each of us. “Kyle work for Se(re)nity House.” Pause. “Aaron…Aaron’s my bes’ friend.” Quiet. “Wes, he my bes’ friend. An… an… an… an he cook with me.” Now we’ve neglected a fully engaging movie to anticipate the next declaration. We burrowed our snickering and uncontrollable school-age giggles in elbow crevices and t-shirts collars and blankets corners, or poorly behind fingers not really eclipsing the upturns of situationally prohibited smiles.
Though our conversations about the past are ambiguous and muddled at best, I find freedom with you, as you take me for who I am. You care not about my wrinkles, iq, dance moves, book choice, ninja rolls, pocket content, dietary restrictions, music collection or abilities to cook duck flambé.
As you are a rotund, chocolate, jovial yoda, I seek your knowledge, Teacher. Call me grasshopper and impart your ways – persisting with ninja speed, the Viking guffaw, teddy bear intimacy, dogged loyalty, and the willingness of the morning sun.
Always loving, always there, always giving, always receiving, always laughing, always looking for a way to get from one place to another, always in the right place at the right time… snoring, always a friend, always able to eat one more bite. But never gullible enough to let me snag a secret spoonful.
The Spirit of Abilene, what would this town be if not you? You are the mascot, the mile marker, the meanderer, and the martyr. I would ask for your autograph but its etched onto my heart, and I think somewhere on our kitchen table. Thanks T. Keep keepin’ it more real than we really get. We love you, brother.
