Long Beach lost a good man this weekend.
On sunday morning at 2:30 a.m. I stood on Josh's front porch and hugged him goodbye. He had a flight to catch at 7 a.m, a flight that would take him to Alaska for 6 months, and then South America after that for a few more months.
I've known Josh for the better part of five years, and most of the good times we've spent together have been at the top of a hill somewhere, looking out over cities and contemplating life. He's good at contemplating, and even better at listening. One of the last times we did this was in Yosemite this past April. It was dark and quiet except for the sound of a stream somewhere close. The stars were eclipsed by a fine layer of smoke from a nearby forest fire. Occasionally a car would come around the bend in the distance and would illuminate us both while we gazed up into a starless sky and thought about how it felt like being in L.A. again. I remember looking up at him and seeing his beard in the light of a passing car and I thought, "Damn, I'm going to miss you."
So have fun on your great white northern adventure, Josh. Long Beach eagerly awaits your return.