I have a good friends. It’s that simple. It’s a fabulous blessing.

I’ve been invited to Marin County by a woman, married with children, whom I’ve known since she was a girl. She’s got a couple two masters degrees in literature and writing. When the first draft of Man In Picture is finished, her offer is to go through it with me page by page over wine and food. I’ve adored her since we first met and her husband is about as cool as really smart guys get.

His band was terrible. Don’t tell him I said that.

A good old friend in New York invited me to come stay. A sweet man I’ve known since the eighties. We were hired around the same time at A&M. We’ve been talking online for a time. He had just moved back to NY. We ran into each other in Vegas about a year ago. He had a serenity in person that impressed me. He’s married to a comic and has a son around sixteen.

Unfortunately, his son is a musician.

I fucking love New York. Last time I was there it was our birthday. Seriously, my old producing partner shared the same birthday, though a few years apart. We were working but still managed to see the city. Empire State Building, The Village and jazz, Little Italy, the works as best we could. We walked as much as possible.

Another excellent friend, the drummer from two different bands we produced, has invited me to Florida. He’s a chef now. Beautiful wife and kids. We had a code for when he blew into town. The message would read “plate of shrimp” and a phone number. It meant we would be drinking sooner or later. Call. One of the very best drummers I ever worked with. More here

Two of my very oldest friends with the same first name I’ve been in regular but not enough contact with, invited me to their homes as well. Northern California up around Bodega Bay and San Francisco proper. These guys and their significant others are among the heavyweights in terms of spiritual and intellectual prowess I’ve been lucky enough to encounter in my life. I’ve known the two with same first name since we were kids. They and their families are luminous to me.

All on this list are original and independent thinkers beyond what one can find on any given day. I’m proud to know them and gratified they think of me now and then.

I’m craving hot dogs. Gotta get some smoked turkey franks, cheap white buns, Tilamook cheddar slices and squeezable mayo. I got regular mayo but need it to squirt it like the ketchup (catsup) and mustard. Need to get an onion and some pickles, maybe some turkey chili.

I’ll shit like a goose.

There’s a pocketful of others I’d at least debate taking a bullet for, I just wanted to mention these ones for now.

Drinks for my friends.