“It was all old people. And there was this retarded man who rode around on a scooter that said ‘Ranger’ on it. His mom was a nudist. He was the retarded child of a nudist and he had an erection too! When we were setting up camp he kept riding around in circles, looking at us. He came up to me and said, “Hey, I wanna be your friend.” And I said, “Can I borrow your scooter?” So we rode around on the scooter for awhile drinking beers and taking pictures. Then we had the naked dance party and we got in trouble. The music was too loud and they made us stop. They were also getting mad at us because we kept forgetting to put towels under us before we sat down. They’re really strict about having to sit on towels.”—
I will always know you as you were in the Big Yellow House. To me, you will never grow old, and death is nothing more than constituent to life. I hold dearest our trips to the parks near your house, shimmying up the flagpole in your back yard, playing ping-pong in the basement, climbing out onto the roof through your window, and our numerous other escapades together. I will always know you for your playfulness, strength, and vitality, and I will always know your laugh. Someday, I hope to be able to show the love that you showed all of us for countless years.