My Friend Chez Isn't Gone... He's F*cking Everywhere

I hope he would've liked this.
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I hope he would've liked this.

Whenever I see a headline with an obscenity censored with an asterisk... I'll think about Chez and how much he hated the softening of our language.

Whenever I see a pair of aviator glasses askew on a bar next to an ironic bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon... I'll think about Chez.

Whenever I read an article in which the thoughtfulness, the insight, the rage or the pure joy flows out of every word... I'll think about Chez and how he was never fully satisfied with his gargantuan talent for writing. Whenever I read an essay with paragraphs that seem to stretch on for 5,000 words... I'll affectionately think about Chez.

Whenever I publish an article... I'll think of Chez and wonder whether he would've liked it.

Whenever I see a new trailer for an arthouse movie... I'll think about Chez.

Whenever I see a tweet or video by Dan Bidondi... I'll think about Chez and all the ways in which he'd effortlessly destroy Dan for it.

Whenever I relentlessly bag on an awards show... I'll think about Chez.

Whenever I see a Bugs Bunny cartoon... I'll think about Chez.

Whenever I see Hawkeye Pierce or Groucho Marx... I'll think about Chez.

Whenever I play a cheesy '70s or '80s pop song on the podcast... I'll think about Chez and how he'd mutter, "Really?"

Whenever I play an Alex Jones clip... I'll think about Chez yanking out his ear-buds in protest against being forced to listen to Jones's obnoxious cocaine voice.

Whenever I have to wake up early to do a radio show... I'll think about Chez and how his last TV gig forced us both to wake up at "Chez o'clock."  

Whenever I think about the evening in Tennessee when I laughed more than I've ever laughed in my entire life... I'll think about Chez and "participating in panel."  Whenever I think about the "D.P. Culp Arena" where the panel was held... I'll think about Chez and how he joked that he'd love to have the initials "D.P." 

Whenever I think about the movie Boyhood of all things... I'll think of the times we argued like an old married couple -- but we never let the anger linger. (Chez would often text me afterward: "Are we cool?")

Whenever I hear the "signing off" Skype sound... I'll think about Chez.

Whenever I see a highball of Wild Turkey...

Whenever I see foie gras...

Whenever I see an overly elaborate description of a meal on Facebook...

Whenever I see the words "Thermite Paint"...

Whenever I hear the sound of someone hammering on a keyboard like it was a manual typewriter...

Whenever I take a road trip...

Whenever I hear a song by My Chemical Romance or The Dead Weather... 

Whenever I catch an episode of The Newsroom...

Whenever I see a guy with skinny jeans and Chuck Taylors jumping out of a Mini Cooper...

Whenever someone tells me they're hung over...

Whenever I see someone retweet Patton Oswalt or Matt Taibbi...

Whenever I see a Bernie v Hillary debate on Facebook...

Whenever Trump launches into a seemingly endless word salady rant...

Whenever I hear the line: "Mongo only pawn... in game of life..."

Whenever I see the Los Angeles skyline...

Whenever I see a drawing of Eeyore...

Whenever I see a devilish grin...

Whenever I hear the Little Rascals theme song... I'll think of Chez and how much he loved his girls, Inara and Madison.

Whenever I think of impeccable taste, invaluable friendship, under-appreciated talent, and an insatiable urge to create... I'll think about Chez.

Whenever I think about cool older brothers... 

...I'll think about my cool older brother who died way too young.

mash