The Electronic Dojo

Nine years have passed since my dear friend Hank died. I remember the day with the clarity that trauma affords, but that's not what I remember about Hank. Hank was loads of fun, complexity, and humor. He kept our group of friends together in a myriad of both practical and emotional ways. I always knew this, but I know it now more that he's gone. We do our best, but it's not the same. Every once in a very long time, you know someone who creates magic in the world.

Hank would laugh his ass off at the idea that he was magic. He'd mark me down for using cliches and being maudlin. He loved to call people on their bullshit. He once threw a biscuit at a waiter who didn't respect his request not to throw a biscuit at him (it was the standard practice at this restaurant and Hank asked that he not throw things at him since he was blind). He was extremely proud of himself that he managed to hit the guy in the face. Like most everything else he did, his aim was true.