Been a year, Mikey…

It’s been a year and two days since you saw a Dead Hot Workshop performance.  It’s been a year and a day since you spent all night getting the baby’s room up to your level of perfection – and it’s been a year since I found out a December phone call would be our last conversation.

A day still hasn’t gone by without something popping into my mind.  A song; a Howard moment; a syndicated Simpsons episode I didn’t see yet.

Most commonly it’s one of those throwaway lines we’d use towards one another; like a stenographer’s shorthand.  Something most wouldn’t pay attention to, but spoke a paragraph of feelings or emotion towards one frivolous thing or another.  “Who told you that!”  “Oh no, nippy.”  “MM-hmmm…”  “Hello hello.”  “See?  Wha’d I tell you!”  “Ho-MER…!”  “Let me see bonehead…”

What’s a worse travesty – me not talking to you again or me not knowing your favorite Dead Hot album?  Who am I kidding – it was that garage cassette tape you never got enough of…and didn’t get enough of making me listen to.  Not like I objected.  I was just as proud as you were when we saw your favorite band “go national” so to speak.  I still have a copy of that Best Buy ad safely tucked away in a box somewhere.

Music was a thing of ours.  With all we had in common, nothing was better than listening to CDs in your Toyota – or whatever music format on my stereo.  Hunting down tracks; hearing new cuts on the radio.  Acoustic rarities.  Our shared interest in local and obscure music; including bands we went to high school with.  I still wonder how your radio picked up those heyday performances of Aerosmith and Led Zeppelin as we froze while camping out in the woods near the crater for that dirtbike race.

I hoped to post a  jukebox of tunes, but these will more than do: representing the Tempe sound and spirit of Long Wongs.  As Brent would say, “This is a love song…  Well, they’re all love songs, aren’t they?”

Amazing. You still had a way to help guide with a couple of these choices.

“Flip a coin / What shall we talk about“

Something new next year?

Even if I did…I still doubt I wold forget.

 

Mike Dorsey – March 23rd 2012

You should have been here.

You should have been thirty-four.

You should been unable to take my call: spending the time with your wife.  Your son.  A daughter- though she couldn’t lay eyes on you just yet.

I should have heard a story from my brother – making me jealous I missed another hangout session; or rather, jealous of whatever spirit was ingested during a celebration.

Instead, it’s a spirit I can only remember.

By now I should know what to call you – besides Mikey.

Instead: I know F (or L?) a bit.  I know C.  I kind of know S.  I should know them better.  I hope.  Just as I hope I did a good enough job listening and knowing who you are…

…because some questions still haven’t been answered.  You know I’m patient – sometimes too much so.  I wait.  I hope.

Maybe I’m here because I still have to try helping as many as you have.  If it can ever be counted.

I’m happy for what I ha[d]ve with you.

People say to celebrate.  Not mourn.  I’m trying.

My Departed Other Brother: Mike Dorsey

Mikey:

We had good times drunk.
We had great times sober.
We smoked cigars to the Sugarcubes
and we took a road like no other-
which cannot ever be taken by anyone else
ever again.

Michael “Parks” Dorsey: 1978-2012

There’s no good way to put this news, so I’ll rely on others to speak for me…

The Daisy Mountain Fire Department is mourning the loss of Engineer Paramedic Michael David Dorsey, 33, who passed away in his home the morning of January 16th 2012.  He leaves behind his wife Felisha, who is five months pregnant with their first child together.

Mike, formerly Michael Parks, was a 15 year veteran of the fire service.  He has served as a member of the Daisy Mountain Fire Department for the last five years.

Mike’s death has come as a shock to the whole department.  “It is difficult to put into words the sadness and emptiness that our organization is going through with the loss of our friend and colleague Michael Dorsey” said Daisy Mountain Fire Chief Mark Nichols. “He was a valued member and will be greatly missed. I know our organization is a better place for having had him here.”

An account has been established to help the Dorsey family.
Donations can be made at Chase Bank, account 2997857764, in the name of
“Daisy Mountain Firefighters Charities Association.”