Vaya con dios, ese.

I got word from my wife tonight that one of my oldest friends, Garry Cohen, has passed away.

Two in the morning last night.

The fact that we all knew that it was coming makes it no easier to deal with.

Pancreatic is the worst kind of cancer and he fought it tooth and nail, but it turned out to be an unwinnable match.

Garry was a tough dude, a brilliant artist, a great friend. I've known him since my teens, he was teaching glass and ceramics at Palomar when I was there.

Harold Tanner was having a costume party in Valley Center and Rick and Ida Griffin and I went over. Garry was wearing a spaceman suit and Rick recognized him in the suit. He introduced me. Garry and Rick had gone to elementary school together.

So many people from that era now gone - Rick, Margie, Doug, Barry, Val, the sand in the hourglass is quietly slipping away.

Garry and I did a lot of stuff together, we boxed, shot trap, went through a few wives and girlfriends. Always the most supportive of friends, he loved dancing, Mexican music, motorcycles, his succulent garden, friends and children.

I dropped acid one day in college, during Jim Saw's airbrush class and couldn't quite handle it. Went over to Garry's and rode motorcycles with him in the afternoon to get my bearings. Who should drive up but Jim. We all had a good laugh.

Garry was a Long Beach State graduate, a brilliant jeweler, ceramist, glass blower, he made Leslie's wedding ring. We treasure his whimsical sculptures, have a bunch of his glass around the house. And now he is gone and I had to hear about it courtesy of fucking Facebook.

I am really glad that I got a chance to say goodbye to my old bud last week. I feel very fortunate. We lost a great one.