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timing is weird
Feb. 27th, 2026 09:13 amso one of my best friends died on wednesday.
he had cancer. we knew this was coming. i found out at work and had to tell leadership from one of the choirs we sang in together because his partner didn't have any contact information for them. i feel like i had all my grief when he got diagnosed and then again when he told me he was moving to palliative. right now the worst part is that everyone keeps trying to talk to me. everyone knows we were close so my name keeps coming up in memorial messages about him. i found out at work so our department head texted me this morning. i want everybody, respectfully, to leave me the fuck alone.
funny thing - my OTHER best friend, from college, was already scheduled to visit me this weekend. they got in yesterday afternoon about three hours after i heard. i'd taken today off of work already and i have someone with me for the next several days who is very good at managing my emotions (lol) and is, now that choir bestie is gone, my best and closest friend on this earth. so. if it had to happen, weirdly, i'm glad it happened when they were going to be here for me and we have all these fun plans for the weekend.
this friend who died, he was my choir bestie, but particularly in barbershop music spaces. that's where i met him. he was the baritone in my quartet. the quartet was his baby, his idea; i did all the admin shit but he made creative decisions. he loved that style of music and always wanted to convert everyone to enjoying it. and he loved the history of it, too--going back to when he was in college he really enjoyed learning about and teaching people about the historically black origins of the art form and the journey it took through appropriation into what is starting to be a more conscious and accepting space.
so the other funny thing here is that the book i just finished reading - frankie and johnny: race, gender, and african american folklore in 1930s america - is kind of about that. not directly. but it's about the frankie and johnny ballad (which he and i sung an arrangement of in a choir together last fall) and how white culture took african american history (the initial murder) and art forms (folk songs about it sung in the rural south) and capitalized on it, through movies, art, etc, and how african american creators repurposed the story for their own aims. and how the real-life frankie struggled to take back control of the narrative for the rest of her life. it's the kind of book he would have enjoyed reading and, i'm sure, if he were alive and healthy right now, i would have sent him progressive updates on the content and my thoughts about it. i'd mentioned to him i was reading it, a couple of weeks ago, but we never got to discuss it. gonna miss that.
he had cancer. we knew this was coming. i found out at work and had to tell leadership from one of the choirs we sang in together because his partner didn't have any contact information for them. i feel like i had all my grief when he got diagnosed and then again when he told me he was moving to palliative. right now the worst part is that everyone keeps trying to talk to me. everyone knows we were close so my name keeps coming up in memorial messages about him. i found out at work so our department head texted me this morning. i want everybody, respectfully, to leave me the fuck alone.
funny thing - my OTHER best friend, from college, was already scheduled to visit me this weekend. they got in yesterday afternoon about three hours after i heard. i'd taken today off of work already and i have someone with me for the next several days who is very good at managing my emotions (lol) and is, now that choir bestie is gone, my best and closest friend on this earth. so. if it had to happen, weirdly, i'm glad it happened when they were going to be here for me and we have all these fun plans for the weekend.
this friend who died, he was my choir bestie, but particularly in barbershop music spaces. that's where i met him. he was the baritone in my quartet. the quartet was his baby, his idea; i did all the admin shit but he made creative decisions. he loved that style of music and always wanted to convert everyone to enjoying it. and he loved the history of it, too--going back to when he was in college he really enjoyed learning about and teaching people about the historically black origins of the art form and the journey it took through appropriation into what is starting to be a more conscious and accepting space.
so the other funny thing here is that the book i just finished reading - frankie and johnny: race, gender, and african american folklore in 1930s america - is kind of about that. not directly. but it's about the frankie and johnny ballad (which he and i sung an arrangement of in a choir together last fall) and how white culture took african american history (the initial murder) and art forms (folk songs about it sung in the rural south) and capitalized on it, through movies, art, etc, and how african american creators repurposed the story for their own aims. and how the real-life frankie struggled to take back control of the narrative for the rest of her life. it's the kind of book he would have enjoyed reading and, i'm sure, if he were alive and healthy right now, i would have sent him progressive updates on the content and my thoughts about it. i'd mentioned to him i was reading it, a couple of weeks ago, but we never got to discuss it. gonna miss that.
