My name is (william) James (J.J.) Mathison — people tend to decide what name I go by… Chris called me Jimmy. I like that.
I have been punishing my soft little brain for days to find the right words to express my sorrow to you and your family, to all friends of Chris, to myself. Mostly I have been drinking; trying to make some sense of it all. We did a lot of that together, Chris and I.
We didn’t rely on finding the right words too much when we were together. No doubt Chris had them there, somewhere in that sad-brilliant mind of his.
We drove around. We were fucking hilarious. Everybody knows Chris was fucking hilarious.
We hugged a lot.
Smart people tend to be intuitively unhapppy. Chris was un-happy a great deal when I knew him best. This made sense to me.
Stupid-happy people are boring. Sad-smart people are interesting. Chris was really goddamn interesting. I think we bonded.
(in case you’re wondering: sad-stupid people need to just cheer the fuck up already.) Continue reading