"Stevil,

I haven't listened to the Butthole Surfers since September 15th, but that isn't the real reason I write. I'm writing to promote my dead brother, who passed away on said date. Unfortunately drinking catches up to some. My brother at the ripe age of 37 passed away in the ICU in Portland due to complications he had from Pancreatitis. He was admitted into the ICU on the 30th of July, with said desease and a list of other complications including Sepsis and a respiratory rate of 100 breaths per min, and blood preasure well below the living - like 50 over 30. He developed a fungal infection that later caused him to bleed to death out of his lungs. My point isn't to bring you down, but to share with you the sweet mustache he ran on occasion. If he were alive I'm sure he would get a kick out of all the stache talk. I turned him on to your art a while back - he loved the grand Tetons, or big titty mountains as he referred to them as. Any who, enjoy the stache he wore. You be the judge, is my bro's stache better than Kempe's brothers?

Funny story about him in the hospital - he couldn't talk due to the tracheotomy, but he could wisper, and he was trying to tell me something about his feet hurting - I couldn't make out what he was telling me, I started to get frustrated because he kept repeating it, and he looked desperate for me to figure out the problem. After about 2 min trying to figure out what he was saying, I realized he was singing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" to me. We both laughed out loud - so at least I have that one to remember.
Daniel Limburg"

"The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face"
-Jack Handy
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Daniels story about Friday Hero, Brother Jeff has come at a pretty good time in my life as I have been thinking a good deal about mortality lately, and have recently gotten word about a fellow I spent a fair amount of time with during my formative years passing away a few days ago.

To put it bluntly, I wish we lived in a society that spent more energy celebrating the individuals life (not to mention our own) then lamenting its end.
This is a rule I desperately try to stick to, but find it a fairly difficult task living in a world that will try at every step of the way to curb ones ultimate fate.
People get cavities, broken hearts, they loose their hair, stub their toes, and always and inevitably, die... Its all a part of the cycle.
As I emailed someone in regards to our compatriots demise, I feel terrible for his wife and two young sons whove been left behind, but as far as he goes, and at the risk of sounding callous, I think hes doing just fine.
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Along the lines of celebrating life in general, I got an email from Blacksocks today thanking me for forcing him to attend the Homie with us, and as I told him- theres plenty of time in the day to be a grown up, but theres barely enough time in life to act like a kid.

Were forced into living a life full of bills, noisy neighbors, mean bosses and so on. Take a little bit of time out of every day and do something selfishly and exclusively for yourself.
That might be to go on a ride, or nap with your kids. It might be to write a vapid post on a weblog nobody reads about how youve got it all figured out, or to enroll in salsa classes..

For the most part anyways, your life is yours. You know, celebrate it a little.

Everybody have a good weekend, and at some point in the next few days, take a trip to a spot thats special to you and acknowledge your love for your own existance and then for a little while reflect on the life of someone whos not around anymore.
Whisper to them that they made an impact on you and as much as you miss them, youre proud that you had the good fortune to cross paths with each other.

Maybe even tell them that they had a really, really bitchin moustache.