Michael is in jail.
He was my Dad's buddy and drummer for many years. He has recently experienced dark times.
Michael was paying monthly for a storage trailer. When that was no longer financially feasible, Dad and a few other friends volunteered to help.
Michael's possessions are now in my parents' garage and on the front lawn. Sorted into the few important possessions worth storing, a bunch of stuff for his children to claim, a bunch of things that are FREE for whoever wants them, even more things ravaged by time and suited for nothing but the dumpster.
Dad emerged the garage today with a piece of paper and a smile. "This is the best thing I've found yet" he proclaims. It's a flyer for a gig the band did back in the 70's, a sketch of a guitarist, the headstock of his axe says GIBSON but it transforms into a tennis racquet down the bottom.
All this Stuff, all these Things, and my Dad gravitates towards a flyer. A piece of paper. A memory. Dad admires it.
I'm just like my Dad.
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