There were two major reasons I didn’t want to continue this blog. One was the maintenance. The second was I didn’t want to write about loss. Hemingway was at the top of my mind when I thought about this, but I didn’t expect to have to post about someone else so soon. I’ve known Michael Reagan for about a decade. We became actual friends five years ago. We became close friends three years ago. For the past three years, we’ve had dinner together every Thursday. I haven’t seen anyone that frequently in the last decade outside of my wife. Other than my dad, I haven’t texted with anyone more than him. We mostly texted about college sports, particularly football. One of the last texts was after Indiana throttled Alabama, and how it was further proof Notre Dame got screwed by the committee. He loved Notre Dame because his dad played the Big Gipper in the movie, Knute Rockne, All-American. We saw each other later that night, because that was Thursday and hell if we’d miss a dinner if we were both in town. There was a thirty-year age gap between us. Maybe a few political views as well. But I always looked forward to his weekly political blog because he stayed true to his principles and wrote without hyperbole. Like most of the people I seem to gravitate to, Michael admired and adored his dad. It was a topic we both bonded over. I also admired Michael and his wife, Colleen, for their gusto. They celebrated their 50th anniversary this year. They never stopped. Always on the move. Always traveling. We’d often meet for dinner around 8:30pm and wouldn’t leave until after midnight. No early bird specials for them. Hell, we rang in the New Year last week and went to Jack in the Box at 2am in the morning and ordered tacos. That was his tradition. It wasn’t New Years without tacos. This last year he jokingly started to referring to me as his best friend. He’d introduce me to people as his best friend, Kenwood. Few people call me Kenwood, but he always did. Because when I told him my name and why I was named that, he understood the significance. I will miss my friend.