Good old memories…

Friday, October 2, 2009 - Bryan Devonshire

It’s been a crazy week. Mostly on the stressful side, but lots of excitement to say the least.

I left Santa Fe, NM Thursday morning last week, hauled ass 600 miles back to Las Vegas, and saw my honey for the first time since Legends at the end of August. I then began moving in on Friday, got a good amount moved, enough to start getting my office set up, and got a good night’s sleep to prepare for Saturday.

My brother Jared and I drove down to my Mom’s house in San Dimas, CA, just outside of LA, for our 10 year high school reunion. We got there, checked in, hugged some old friends, and then headed straight to the bar for two shots of jack and two beers. We soon realized that we would see pretty much everybody that we would want to see if we just stood around near the bar. Some things never change I guess.

Shortly after dinner, when they opened it up to the people that didn’t rsvp in time but wanted to come hang out for the real fun, Jared smacked me on the chest and pointed at a dude. I looked at him, he looked familiar, and didn’t believe his name tag. It said Anthony Casturita. He looked like Anthony. But the problem was that Anthony died in a car accident several years ago after a tour in Iraq. Like, no joke, on the way to the reunion Jared and I drove past Anthony’s old apartment, gave a kiss and a peace sign basically saying RIP homie, wish we could see you tonight. We got our wish.

Through some sort of grapevine confusion, and Eric Casturita (Anthony’s cousin) dying in the fashion we thought Anthony died, most of us thought it was Anthony. My mother told me first. After shaking off some shock (and tears in the restroom), I said, “Dude, I thought you were dead.” He laughed in his typical fashion, “You’re like the 8th person that’s said that to me already.” I called my mother, she lost it, and we had an amazing time the rest of the night, one of our lifelong best friends being raised from the dead as far as my emotions were concerned.

The next day Anthony came over, visited with my Mom for a bit, then the three of us headed to the usual pizza spot and met everybody else that wanted to show up for pizza. I was planning on drinking water but the sick resurrected bastard ordered a pitcher of Newcastle. I couldn’t say no. So much for getting back to Vegas quickly. We spent a few hours there, laughing and remembering the old times, and eventually headed back home.

I was bushed, took it easy Sunday night, and then hit the moving hard Monday. My house has seen better days. I’ve basically kissed the deposit goodbye. One old roomie, Danny the Degenerate F%*# up and bailed while I was on the road, leaving a helluva mess behind. Nobody’s made any effort to clean things up and I ain’t gonna pay the people to do it, nor do I have the time to do it myself. Oh well. I got all of my stuff moved out Mon-Wed, but still at the house is an early 80’s Toyota pickup that I fronted the cash for Danny to buy, his parents were going to pay for it, they sent the check, he never gave me the money, and now it has a flat tire and a dead battery. There’s also a broken down boat (the Piece of Ship), a running dirt bike, 4 not running jet skis, a broken air hockey table, a crappy foosball table, all of another roomies stuff, and a bunch of garbage. Sigh.

I’ve gotta do my best to take care of all of that before Aruba. Shelley and I fly out of Vegas early Saturday morning, so you betcha that we’re going to be ready to be in the full relax (aka drink) mode. See y’all on the beach!

Peace and good luck,

Devo