My friend Brent passed away last December, right before Christmas. I know it hit me hard, and I know it hit his family even harder. Brent was, in essence, locally famous. Perhaps the correct term would truly be "locally infamous." He had been part of the bar scene in Columbia forever, or at least as long as can qualify as "forever" when your life is cut short.

Brent was one of the first contacts I made when I entered the beer selling business, and he and I immediately hit it off. He had worked for, or with, pretty much everyone in town that was a part of the bar scene. If I needed a contact, referral, phone number, home address, or blood type of a bar manager, he was my guy.

He always wanted to open up his own place, and I'm glad he got to realize that dream. When Davis' opened, I was a regular. I was in there spending money when I didn't have the money to spend. When I was having a shitty sales day, I would go belly up to the bar and vent. It didn't matter if they were officially open, he would let me in and pour me a beer regardless. He was a giver, that guy. You've heard the term "give until it hurts?" That was Brent. Today was the 4th Annual Palmetto Peanut Boil, an event he founded and had always run. I couldn't stay long, but I went by today to honor him and have a beer or two. Even at noon, it was great to see some old friends and faces, and it was apparent how many of our lives he touched.

Brent always, always, always ended any conversation by saying "I love you, brother." Well, brother, I love you too, and I miss the hell out of you.

JT out.

Here is the new house:



After my Uncle Tom passed away unexpectedly in February, and a few legal and familial issues were cleared up, I was asked to move in as the caretaker of my grandmother's home while she is in extended care.

It's funny, growing up, I wanted out of the Lexington area as fast as my legs would take me. These days, I love sitting on my porch swing in Gilbert, sipping a drink, listening to the birds, and hanging out with my dog and the new girlfriend, hereafter referred to as HBL (Hot Blonde Lawyer.) I can't imagine leaving, or what the hell my problem was when I was a teenager, other than obviously I was a teenager and knew more than 1135% of the Earth's population. Of course, back then, I loved jam bands and their 3 month long mandolin solos, so there you go.

Speaking of the HBL, here she is:



After Melissa and I split up, I was ready to live the single life. Different girl in every town, maybe even some on different cross streets, staying out all night to watch the sun come up in a different area code, hookers, cocaine, and fruit roll ups for breakfast.

Then I realized I had in my possession two tickets to a really nice wine tasting that I had forgotten about. I clearly was not going to take my ex. I could not take Trevor to any more wine tastings without questions being asked that I think Trevor and I both know the answer to any way (smooches, big boy.)

So I invited a friend of a friend that I knew liked wine. I impressed upon her that this was a no-pressure event, certainly not a date. I just had these tickets that were paid for, you see. We had such a good time that we went next door for drinks after the tasting and have been seeing each other ever since. So much for the single rock star status...but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I also left my former employers and took a new job at a competitor. Long story short, it was just time for me to move, I had outgrown my previous job. So far, I am a part of a rock star sales team, reaching for sales numbers that previously seemed unattainable, but now are within reach. My CEO is only 3 years older than me, and a surfer to boot. My area sales manager is a long time friend and former competitor of mine, and my partner in crime area sales team member falls into the same category.

I'm living the dream...don't wake me up.

JT out.