Aww man...again?

I lost another great friend from the Phoenix family last week, Scott Adrian. At first I wasn't going to post that photo above but dammit, Scott was fucking NUTS and that's him. I don't mean that in a bad way and I think he would be amongst the first to admit it and when I look at that photo, I still get the feeling I always got when I saw "Scotty-Wotty-Doo-Da-Day." Dread, mixed with laughter, mixed with feeling like "old times" mixed with "something is going to happen tonight" mixed with...if it does, I'm glad he's on my side.

Scott had a ton of serious problems all over town. I never, ever had a problem with him though. He and I went as far back as any of my Petaluma friends as he used to live around the corner from this dude Lloyd who I was friends with when I was 11 or 12. Once again, we'd see Scott coming and know trouble was en route. However Lloyd also had a thuggish older brother and between the three of us, we could usually escape his wrath. I can't believe we had a friend named Lloyd. That name is ridiculous. LLoyd. Even spelling it is ridiculous. Anyway...

As time went on, Scott and I were on the football team together (both playing "left out") and also on the track team. Yeah, I was on the track team...what of it? Scott was the ONLY guy in the entire school insane enough to do pole vaulting. I remember that it was on long track team bus rides he and I really became friends. Then we started hanging out at the Phoenix together and were friends for life. He had a penchant for pissing off friends but I think we were alot alike and the early years of our friendship gave us a mutual respect so he never flipped out on me.

The nickname Scotty-Wotty-Doo-Da-Day came from these really great cookies he would make for special occasions. I have no idea when they started getting made and brought to events, but they always made me bust up laughing. Scott, this big, goofy, buffed, tatted out dude would show up with a plate covered in saran wrap and someone would go, "dude, what is that?? And he would say, "Dude, they're Scotty-Wotty-Doo-Da-Day's!" as if you had to be some kind of fucking moron to not know that. When people die, it's those little insights and....insider speak I miss the most. It's the shared joke that you would always get into when you saw each other and never finish saying before you both started laughing as it was old, and familiar and good.

As I said, Scott was frequently in trouble. I heard stories of him beating people up and getting his ass kicked as well. I heard stories of drugs and general weirdness, but I honestly never saw any of it. When I saw Scott, we would hug and grab a beer. We went to a bunch of concerts together and stayed in touch over the years while he was in the Army, living in Germany. I'm really glad I got to hang out with him on Butter and Eggs Day back in the Spring. We hadn't seen each other much and he was in "Cool Scott" mode, even though he was having a shitty time at home and was in serious trouble with the law. We just hung out and talked and drank and had a blast.

I'm still kind of processing it all because sadly, I've been too busy to even think about it and have time to be O.K. with it. I'm sad, but not surprised. Scott was crazy. I think that just like when Nate died, the sadness will kick in when I'm at Gales or the Phoenix and Scott should be there...and he won't be.

I miss ya buddy! Hope you're seriously freaking people out whereever you are!