When you get a call from an old friend like I did today you hope it's a cause to rehash the stupid moments you shared when you were young and dumb (even more so than now).
I hadn't actually talked to Danny Macro on the phone for years, but we exchanged a few messages over Facebook. Four days ago I asked about a post on his wall that read: Get better soon Benny! Prayers sent. I asked if this was our friend Ben Keeney, and what the troubles were. I was told that Ben was in an induced coma fighting off infections caused by the H1N1 virus. This was harsh news, but came with the caveat that all was looking up.
When I got the call from Dan today we didn't talk about the stupid things we did. Not long after the usual 'Hey, how are you?" but before anything else was spoken I knew that a close friend had passed away.
It's been some time since I dealt with death, at least a death that hit so close to home. The closest person to me to pass away was my Oma (that's nazi speak for grandma). This was eleven or twelve years ago. As almost anyone at that age would do I just cried. In hindsight it's such a simple thing. You cry till your head pounds and your tears dry up and it's over; you feel better for the time being.
I'm just now finding out that it doesn't work that way for me now. Tears don't come as easily as they did then. Now I sit stunned and sad but still not quite grasping this situation. Maybe this is how it is now that I'm older. Instead of the devastation that set in a decade ago I think about the half a lifetime of good memories I have because I was lucky enough to know a guy like Ben.
Having had a rough childhood I've programmed myself to focus on the future and fresh starts. Because of that I'm not too big on keeping photos and trinkets from the past. I do keep a few though. Lucky for me knowing him was reason enough to have most of my photo albums filled with our great times. While I look through them I'd like to tell you just a few of those reasons (I say a few knowing the list will be as long as my lifetime).
I met Ben while working at the Glen Theater. I have fond memories of my time there because of him. The good times didn't come from doing the best job I could do for $5.15 an hour. It's the times we brought six packs of Strohs to hide in the ice machine, and treated it like the bullshit teenage job it was.
He was a truly funny guy. I really don't remember a time hanging out with him when he wasn't making me laugh. He was a great storyteller which is rare. If he had worries or stresses - I'm sure he did as we all do - I didn't know what they were. It's hard for me to explain that. He was just that kind of guy.
Ben loved radio as much as I did. He was the only guy I knew that would take a train 40 minutes to meet me at a school he didn't go to so we could bullshit on a college radio station that no one listened to. We didn't get anything out of it. We just wanted to hang out, make fun of life, and talk. That was fun to us.
Think about the friends you have and what you do when you hang out. Now narrow it down to the people you can just sit there and do nothing more than talk with and have a blast. The list is tiny, zero for some, but he was on mine.
Ben loved all things Chicago especially the sports. While most of our friends, along with most of the city we lived in, creamed jeans for the Cubbies - he was a Sox fan. I will forever call him a homo for that, but I respect it.
These are the universal reasons why Ben was a best friend. I have a million other specific stories to go with the pictures and memories.
So what to do now? I don't know. Hopefully you can appreciate this. Not because most of you knew him personally but because you know someone just as important to you in your life.
My thoughts and prayers go out to his family and the people that knew and loved him. It was my pleasure to have had you as a friend Benny.
Ben, Me, some girls, and a retarded man circa 2002
