A Hero’s Welcome
A great friend of mine, Matt Orphan (”The Orphanator”), is returning home to the West Coast after a hiatus in his hometown of Chicago for a few years to get back on his feet. Things were rough for him in California then, as bad as they are for me and many other people now, and I hope it turns out better for him this time around.
We were originally neighbours in an under-classed apartment complex but when one of his roommates moved out and my own friend and roommate bailed to join the military, I moved in to his place to fill the vacancy. We became great buds almost instantly and he showed this socially awkward goober the ropes. Our apartment became the venue for Tuesday Boozedays, weekly theme parties charged with some of the most sought-after drunken debauchery around that sometimes saw twenty or more people crammed into our three bedroom apartment (thereto after known as “The Orphanage”), sometimes without shirts, sometimes without pants, and always thoroughly trashed.
Matt was the prototypical Man’s Man; a sort of self-indulgent ruffian but whom always knew who is friends were, and often a whiskey-soaked baffoon who probably single-handedly kept the Black Velvet distilleries in profits through the early 2000s. And an enviable lothario who separated the sluts from the dames, like wheat from chaffe. Might seem like I’m trash-talking a bit but, despite whatever irritation factor there was in him being plied with liquor so often and using the community couch for his personal vagina sacrifices, I have more fond memories than not. Besides, as the over-used aphorism goes, he was young then. I’ve seen him and spoken with him since and he’s mellowed out and become an even better person than he already was.
And even back in those days there was a long list of positives about Matt, and he had a huge and likewise positive impact on my life. He never ceased being loyal, noble, and generous, and a stalwart man who would reluctantly say a bad word about anyone, even people who would call themselves his enemy. He was both violent and comical, and I almost never tired of hearing the sordid tales of his many confrontations, a few to which I was witness, and that invariably contained his unique comedic spin that could make light of nearly any situation. He treated me like a brother and introduced me to his own friends as a kindred spirit. And I’d dare to say we, his friends, have been at a loss these last few years for not having him closer.
So tonight it all comes together again and perhaps better than before. Good company and good times ahead. And in difficult times like these, when things are nearly at their worst, good friends are what we all need most. Hail to the King, baby.
Tags: BLACK VELVET, FULL OF WIN AND AWESOME, GOOD TIMES, THE ORPHANAGE, THE ORPHANATOR, TUESDAY BOOZEDAY, WAR STORIES, WHISKEY