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March 12, 2007
he sat next to me on the couch and listened to his voicemail on speakerphone. message after message from dudes with small jobs, music gigs, friends saying hello, then his dad’s voice came on: “hi brian… it’s dad… i’m calling to see how you are… how are you?” the message lingered on while normal noises continued in the background: muffled talking, the ding of a toaster, the barely-audible tv, clicks and clacks and footsteps and shuffling…. i laughed. it wasn’t funny. there was nothing funny about it. “that’s how he is these days,” brian said and then he pressed 7.