On my trip to Dallas, I flew out of Indianapolis [that stinkin' Delta hub in Cincinnati forces many locals to sprawl to other nearby airports to save some cash]. Fortunately, I was able to leave my car at my brother-in-law's church and he drove me to the airport. But Josh and my sister Becky were going to be leading a middle school retreat upon my return so I needed someone to pick me up. Enter my buddy Jason: a man of whom I have endless stories. Without hesitation he agreed to pick me up. Later that night we went out to dinner with Dalea [who's expecting child number four] and the kids. We had a great time.
After fourteen years Jason and I can pick up right where we left off. If we lived closer, we'd hang out all the time. As it is, we do pretty good to see each other regularly.
In short, he's my kind of people. He's a good friend.
*Yet another Jason story: when we were playing soccer in college, we had but one CD we would listen to: Garth Brooks' Greatest Hits. I ended up seeing Garth in concert twice. Not quite sure that happens without Jason. I don't hold it against him.
It should be noted: today Jason's son Drew turned ten. Kelly and I held him the day he was born. And now he has shaggy, hippie hair. He's a good looking, smart kid. Happy Birthday, Drew!