A few things about my friends . . . Tom

I once drove to Tom's house in Burke. I think I hadn't seen him in quite a while. I rang the door bell, and he greeted me with, "Your breath smells like a bowling alley."

Tom once had an inch long hair growing from his cheek, just above his shaveline. When I pointed it out to him, he responded, "Ah, it'll pass."

Tom, Shane and I got ass backwards lost in the Badlands, SD, one summer. We got fried in the plains' sun. That night, there was a horrific storm and it seemed our tent was blowing in from all sides. The coyotes were screaming like terrified school children on the neighboring knoll. Shane burst out of a nightmare, howling, believing one of his big toes was being lopped off. Tom and I, both wide awake, already terrified, settled him down and he passed right out again. Tom gave his life to God that night, but then rescinded the next eve, stating he would truly give his life to Christ if Pizza Hut delivered us a miraculous pizza, where we were.

He later gave his life to Christ, and I'd like to talk to him about how that's going. He once asked me to come back to the fold.

After a day or more in the backcountry, Tom's known to incessantly fantasize over Pizza Hut pizza.

Loveland Pass, CO . . . the first real snow.