I am not a writer

That should be pretty evident by the fact that I'm "published" by a blog.

My friend Peter, however, is published biweekly by a little liberally-biased rag you may have heard of called the New York Times. More specifically, he's a restaurant reviewer and has a review today that manages to mention shiitake mushrooms and the band Pavement. What's not to like about that combination?

Pete and I went to high school together and most of our pubescent energy was directed towards four pursuits: smoking dope, playing guitar, getting drunk and chasing girls. Our opportunity to continue in these pursuits together today is limited by a few things, most notably that he lives in New York and I live in Chicago.

The potential for Dionysian collaboration is further compromised by the fact that 1) I haven't smoked dope in about 10 years, 2) we're both happily tethered to wonderful women (Pete's girlfriend Hannah, another high school friend, makes incredible jewelry that famous people like. You know the opinions of famous people matter more than yours.) and 3) Pete doesn't play the guitar much anymore.

I guess we can still get drunk together, something we proved in Reno/Tahoe a few weekends ago at our friend Ben's wedding.

The thing on that list that saddens me the most is Pete's separation from the guitar. He'd take issue with me saying I learned to play the guitar from him since I had a six year head start, so I'll say I learned to play the guitar with him. We'd sit for hours upon hours playing in one of our basements, soloing over the same three chords, trading ideas, listening to the newest CD we were into.

We'd badmouth our mutual teacher, Damian. Pete went on to play the bass for one of Damian's bands, and was a pretty damn good bass player too. Over the years of playing together, we developed a certain musical chemistry. Our jams would stop on a dime, go off in unexpected directions, and somehow make it back to where we started, all without a word being spoken. I'd like to say we could read each other's minds, but really it something more tangible and important: we listened to each other.

And knew each other.

And cared for each other.

I think I was a stronger rhythm player in terms of sense of time, but Pete was a more creative rhythm player, and his rhythmic explorations inspired my solos to places I never would have thought to take them.

Thinking about it now, the thing that saddens me more than Pete's separation from the guitar is my separation from Pete and his guitar. I feel like if we lived in the same city, regardless of whether or not music was Pete's primary pursuit, we'd still be getting together in some basement somewhere to bang out our own little brand of rock and roll.

We'd still be inspiring each other in the sort of competitive-but-caring way that friends often do in life. 

Hell, maybe we're still doing that for each other anyway.

jbg