August 7, 2012
Rod was one of my dadís friends, really the only one I knew. He was unusually approachable to an eight year-old kid like me and that engendered a sense of camaraderie as I grew older. Later, as a teenager, we shared jokes at my drunk-ass fatherís expense. As a young adult I admired his ability to drink through the day and still maintain an outward veneer of control. That control was something I strived for in my drinking career, but it took years to attain and then I had barely mastered it before it slipped away.