Where's Mario?

I've never had a friend named Mario. I've known a couple and I met Mario Cuomo once.
But as an actual friend, I've never had one.

"Where's Mario?" just seemed liked a good title for this post.

I recently learned of the death of two friends. One was the bass player in the first band in which I ever played. His name was Cris Connery. It was in 1966 and the band was called "The Good Fairies" but our headmaster made us change the name for obvious reasons. We became "Saint James Infirmary" and we were very good for a bunch of kids. I was the drummer.

The other was a friend from my neighborhood growing up. He was a year older and had a Volkswagen and we would tool around looking for fun. He was one of the smartest guys I've ever known. And very sweet. His name was Greg Wuertz.

They were both good guys and I remember them as teenagers not as adults.

But they both were adults at the time of their passing.

They had lives with other people, jobs, knew joy and sorrow and lived somewhere.

And that's the funny thing, the "Where's Mario?" part.

I have lived in about a dozen places during the course of my lifetime so far. In each place I was an active member of the community. I was a student or a musician or a producer or a neighbor. I guess I've known, without exaggeration, about 1,000 people all told, give or take.

I've had some very good friends, some wonderful lovers, some talented colleagues and some mere acquanitances.

What ever happened to them? What did they do with their lives? Where are they now?

I have no idea.

There are only two ultimate outcomes though. They are either dead or they are somewhere on the planet. They could be in the next town or behind me on the Interstate. Or they could be in the jungles of Brazil, withdrawn completely from society, living in solitude among the indigenous residents of wherever they are.

Or they could be dead. They could have died last week or twenty years ago. I would have no way of knowing because we lost track.

We had been so close, so intimate, so important to one another. But now we are gone. We are no longer a part of each other's lives. It's as if we never knew each other.

But that could never be, regardless. The experiences we shared are forever. Those experiences have left an indelible mark on both of us.

Over the years we have thought of one another. Sometimes those thoughts were fond and full of joy. Sometimes they brought back the bad feelings that were a part of our mutual experience as it unfolded so long ago.

But it doesn't matter. All of those people had an effect on me as I did on them. We came together for some reason.

Some of those reasons have long since been revealed and some are still waiting for the light of day.

But, if they are still alive, those people are somewhere, doing something with a group of people I don't even know.

They are married or not. They have kids or never did. They are healthy and happy or they are sick and miserable.

Or they are dead...

I may never know.

But I have not forgotten them. I still see them in my mind's eye as they were back then. They are just as beautiful or funny or cool or interesting. I am still drawn to their energy and their charisma.

I hope they're happy and, if they have died, I hope they lived a fulfilled life.

I am and I have so far.

If you see them tell them that. They'd probably want to know.

Or not...