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Aloha, Harry

Went to a going away party for my old friend Harry and his wife, Holly, on Saturday. First of all, let me tell you how damn old I am. I was up until almost 2 and I was dead all day Sunday. Someone please explain to me how these old rockers carry on the way they do (I'm talking to YOU Keith Richards).

Anyway, he had several friends over, but the two of us kind of gravitated to each other most of the time I was there. Harry and I used to talk so much and share our thoughts about music and movies when we worked together at Klasky. I hadn't seen him in over a year and I failed to realize how much I really missed him all of this time. And now... he's moving back to New England.

We get so caught up in our lives that some people, those peripheral important folks that provide us with creative outlets often get forgotten. I truly regret not keeping in touch with Harry all of this time. Sad thing is, we'll probably share more emails now that he's moving.

Things Harry turned me on to were most of the 70's punk movement, the Replacements, the Ramones, the art of John Waters and good baseball talk (even though he's a frickin' Red Sox fan). He has supported us on every CF Walk and my marathons and has always offered the advice of his sister, a nutritionalist, in case we had questions about what we can do for Jake. And, of course, he was always a sympathetic ear I could turn to when I needed to vent. The true definition of a good friend.

Aloha my friend. We'll meet again.

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