For some reason, “Panama,” recorded by Van Halen in nineteen eighty-four, is streaming through my head today. This came out while I was on Okinawa; the next year, I was living in South Carolina, and the year after that, I was living in Germany. But the song is most associated with a friend who came along in nineteen ninety-one, when I was living in California. He was my age, and passed away a few years ago from cancer.
(And no, for those who are curious, Randy wasn’t Case A nor Case B from my other post. He’s just another person the big C victimized.)
For you, Randy. He enjoyed listening to Van Halen almost as much as he enjoyed rooting for the Atlanta Braves. In retrospect, he was a boy of summer.