Note to self.

Here's the thing Mike, Now that you are gone, I find being the keeper of Agent86 history awkward at best, because to be honest it should fall to GL right? Especially since she actually visited Arcata with you and I haven't been back to that vortex of weirdness in decades. None of the people in the Humboldt Punk group on the FB mayhem-generator even know who the fuck I am. Well, except for Dario. That's right, I said (wrote) Dario. Yer pal, my on-again, off-again buddy (I thought we were on the skids again because I mistakenly sent him a link to what I thought was an online sale on L&R merch, but instead was a link to online books and he was, as is sometimes apparently still a thing with him, pissed off). So I had assumed it'd be a while before I heard from him - and I guess it has been about 6 monthes. Anyway, every now and then he pops up in my FB feed, which I don't really patrol much. To my surprise when I saw the alert, he is a member of the Humboldt County Punks group there. Now, I know that you're are part of the cosmos, so I guess theoretically you might already know this...but in case the afterlife doesn't allow you to read minds or social media, here's a funny item: Dario is putting out a Schmidtheads album. I don't recall a female being in the band when you were dragging me to house parties they played at, but whatever. He is doing it, and he did reach out to me, trying to mine information that, to be honest, wasn't there to begin with (I only remember that one jar-headed guy, Eric was his name maybe) and I didn't have anything really for him. I do remember rehashing a bit of that early Agent86 stuff with him then, but then silence; and I totally forgot (did not care) about it. Cut to last week when I see a notification letting me know Dario tagged me in some conversation over there. I click in, and lo and behold the banner photo appears (to my swiss cheese-like brain) to be a photo of Protect The Earth-era Agent86. Definitely you and the Chad I've never met (I think?). He tagged me asking if that was you, to which I let him know it was. Then he asked "which band"? I affirmed it was A86, and PTE era, and he commented "Oh, early version before you" or something. Of course I was all "whatever." Then about a day later, damned if Eric MFing Strand (!!!) finally, after a hundred (35) years sends me a friend request. Not gonna lie Mike, I was super stoked for a half second, as I had a low-key crush on that boy the entire two weeks I knew him and wasn't he in Alice Donut when we saw them in Europe? Maybe? God knows I can't remember for sure, and now you 're gone so there is literally NO ONE I can ask. That fucking makes me so sad, on so many levels. Sad I can't remember, sad I can't hear it from you, sad it's lost to the winds of time. Just sad general. Getting old is so strange. It's happening the whole time you are living, but you don't know what you should have been paying closer attention to. Until, like everyone I think finds out: it's too late. Do you think Robert DeNiro thinks that too? Like, I get that he, and other media stars have the luxury of having so much of their lives documented that they really don't HAVE to remember anything, but do they actually remember? Anyway, it was a brief "chat" with Eric, because legit, we barely knew each other then, and now it's 35 years later and...well what to say? I can't even remember one actual conversation I had with him anymore (there might be some note in a journal, but it's sure to be some sort of whining about how I wished I was cuter so he'd dig me....or whatever), so where to pick up 35 years ago. Plus every time these old musician types hit me up and find out I don't play anymore, they vanish anyway. So...meh. It was neat though, for a second.