You lose touch with people sometimes and it sucks. You deliberately āloseā touch with those you donāt like or who hurt you - the list is long - but sometimes you just lose touch because dumb old time and you think everything will be there when you get back to it. Last night I told @imwonderstruck1989 about a man I knew once. Bartcop aka Terry Coppage. It was Cinco de Mayo and so I got a bottle of my favourite tequila which was my firstĀ āsippingā tequila and which Iād never have heard of save for Terry. ChinacoĀ AƱejo. Old Bart raved about that shit in between taking the everloving piss out of George Bush and Republicans generally. Iād never thought of tequila as a sipping beverage but I trusted Bartās word and so, on a solo road trip up the California coast after my first divorce, I ponied up $60 for a bottle. I will never forget that night, sitting by myself on a deck outside my hotel in Santa Barbara, drinking that stuff for the first time and thinking, damn, Bart does not lie. This is the nectar of the gods. Anyhow. See, youngsters, Tumblr wasnāt always here. Nor was Facebook or Twitter or Snapchat or whatever godawful next thing youāre using now. You didnāt invent beingĀ āwokeā. There was a political internet waaaaaaaaay back in the day and Terry was itās godfather. He hand-rolled that shit and we laughed and he had fundraisers for obscure Clinton witch-hunt victims and we beat our chests and thought we were making a difference. I got high af with Bart once in Vegas. Good motherfucking times. So last night when Iām telling Kay about Terry and I google him and find out he died 5 years ago. It fucking brought me low. This is a trite way to end a post about a guy who took NO shit and mixed in tequila reviews with his sociopolitical commentary but please. Appreciate the good ones. And TELL them you appreciate them. Right now. Go. Do. Use the Big Hammer.