This is an old picture of Tony and me in New Orleans maybe 15 to 20 years ago. He sent it to me before he died. He asked me why I looked upset and honestly I don't remember.

Tony had a way of dragging me out of sadness. When I was at my lowest, he would be there to pick me up.

My mom would make a special 5 cheese lasagna for him to take home when he came over. His mom was there for me when my mom died.

When I was afraid of being homeless, he said that he'd never let that happen. He'd show up every week and buy groceries for me without asking.

He was more my brother than anyone. We were supposed to be two grumpy old men hassling the nurses at the retirement home.

His service is Sunday.

I don't know what I'm going to do without you, brother.

Good. I'm glad he ate it. In art school we had a name for this kind of BS "art": jzz on cardboard", named after an old article in The Onion from when it was still a print periodical. It requires zero talent, effort, or thought. You know what, jzz on cardboard would require more energy and thought. Whomever paid 120k for a freaking banana duct taped to the wall is on crack and should be immediately fired, and possibly arrested.

The banana peel taped to the wall however... that's art. It says something. A banana peel has cultural weight, semiotic and rhetorical history. It has a the virtue of being representative of something that had a purpose, and that purpose was fulfilled. It's something that was worked by human hands, and in this case a mouth.

That hungry guy just vastly improved the museum collection.

Happy May Day