#51 -- jay

5/15/24 JAY

I swore last year I would write about my dear friend. Think I did the year before too.

I met Jay outside of a nightclub. I was doing some dj work and he was your typical door guy. Aloof and smoking.

Then one day I was walking my decrepit English bulldog and as we turned a corner at Harvey Park there was Jay with his decrepit dog Lou who was a mixed Rottweiler and we walked our limping dogs and got to talking music.

The next day we arrived and there was Jay and Lou. We would talk vet bills, insurance scams and food.

Jay was a tough guy and I am clearly not. He would show up with new tattoos, a black eye and a broken nose every other week. I never asked and just assumed the other guy was in worst shape.

He rode a Harley and hung out with the most gruesome group of guys also known as Hells angels.

What I would learn over the course of 7 years of walking our dogs and hanging out at Kava bars (I don't drink and Jay was always struggling to stay sober) was a never ending of hilarious contradictions.

A world class chef from a affluent family who live in a affluent neighborhood in a mountain town he refused to work for the man. He hated the idea of working to make someone else's dreams come true.

He would bounce around from kitchen to kitchen from nightclub to nightclub always making just enough to fix his bike, pay the vet bills and buy premium beef and pork because what's life if you eat like shit.

He lived to argue and debate just about anything he thought worth talking about was worth arguing about, he was rarely wrong and if he was... he wasn't willing to admit or apologize for it.

He played in any punk band who needed a guitarist and I went and watched him play once, once was enough. There were maybe 20 people in the crowd and they loved, he loved it and that was enough for me.

He began getting sober in 2017 and his entire friend group shrunk. I saw it happen before he did.

He met a beautiful woman. Keely and they were in love, very much so. They made a pact to stop using pills.

His house which I have to drive by everyday went from a entourage of 15 bikes to 5 to 1 in short time.

Keely would invite me to the park and Jay lost his argumentative ways unless it was about music and politics and then she would give him a look and he would smoke as we walked silently.

He started as a small side chef at a very heavily anticipated restaurant in the summer of 2018 and by fall was the executive chef. We celebrated in his home kitchen as he prepared me the entire tasting menu one afternoon... It's now my dearest memory.

Lou got sick and smoochee got sick and our walks were shorter but we made a pact to try a new taco truck every Monday even in the dead of winter... If they can be out there in this, it must be good!

He was so excited every Monday night and the more success he had in the kitchen of his workplace the more he began to love a good debate. He would become a Republican while voting left if the moment called for it he would explain... The world is best when people are pissed off.

However in typical Jay fashion he showed up mid afternoon one day and announced he quit that shitty, wanna be corporate gig and wanted to know if I wanted to go play pool. Bunch of psuedo capitalists got together and changed his menu and we're offering quesadillas and fuck that and them... He didn't train his whole life to cook fucking quesadillas.

He never missed a Monday but he brought company. I always would chuckle at his friends nicknames... Trouble, Dicey, Reptile are a few I remember.

Jay hated texts and would always call even over the stupidest thing. Phone would ring, hey bro is it gonna rain tomorrow thinking of taking a ride.

I'm a texter. Jay would never reply to texts. One day we were eating tacos just us. He pulled out his phone and answered every text in person. Some were 3 years old and we laughed and laughed over some of them.

Early 2019 he took a job as a bus driver for RTD and he would explain himself in a apologetic manner about taking the job.

I was the only person that knew he loved the job. The chaos of the 15 where fights break out. Pimps and hookers prepare for the night or end it on Colfax. He took graveyards and weekends when given the choice.

He was saving up for a real wedding and to get his friend Tim out of jail finally.

Every Monday he would show up to our taco place (we moved indoors to juniors taco) and we would argue for a good hour, hug each other and make plans to walk our dogs.

I knew Jay was high every Monday again for about 3 weeks. He would drive a car mid spring and was picking arguments less and less, I shrugged it off.

Keely was beyond happy and lou was loving his new schedule. I'd see them walking the park every morning and honk and we would flip each other off.

I got home from the casino at 445 a.m. and my phone rang and it was my good friend. I answered knowing it was his day off.

Slurred words and begging me to come get him so we could smoke some cheap cigarettes and walk our dogs together. I ensured him I needed sleep far too much and after 5 minutes of how the pixies are a pop band debate I hung up... Jay died 24 minutes later the autopsy showed... Fentanyl and percaset... Accidental suicide.

I was the last call he ever made.

I showed up to the lake with his eulogy in my hand and ready to read every word and as I got up there in front of 100 people, family, friends from all over and biker club members I lost the speech.

I spoke about his love of food, music, Keely, his sisters, Doo wop, cooking, bikes, fighting and his hate for capitalism where the guy who does all the work never gets the credit... But above all of it he loved his friends.

We laughed, cried and I went home.

Lou lasted 2 more years, smoochee 6 months before Lou.

I grew to know Doris and Chuck his parents and they have all of his friends over for dinner once a year, today is that day.

I suffered for 5 years now. What if I just went and got that pack of cheap smokes and listened to the pixies selling out album by album while Keely was away working out of town.

He would hate that I think about all this shit, all the time.

Never take your friends for granted. Never stop having lunches, dinners, arguing over what seems dumb in the present, answer the calls and texts... You'll never remember the tacos but you'll miss eating them with someone.

Oh and if you are grieving, do something about it. Talk to someone, anyone and don't let anyone else dictate how you handle that.

Next week I'll write about gambling but today, right now I couldn't care anything at all about professional life.

With love and GL2all. Thank you for the space as always, Eddie