Until recently, the last time I could remember seeing my father was during Christmas time over a decade ago. I know it wasn't for any lack of his interest in seeing me or the rest of the gang, the family dynamics made it pretty impossible for him to visit even if he had the means. So years passed, along the way I said I would try to make my way out to him wherever he was; Washington at first and then later Arkansas when he relocated.
When it's come to friendships in life I have been absolutely, miraculously blessed. That special type of connection most people may not experience even once in their lifetime - you know, where you mesh so well this freaky spideysense-esque bond develops - I have stumbled upon multiple times. There was this funnier, taller, cooler, quirkier, bearded man version of myself hiding on the opposite side of the country I had spent most of my life unaware of. Peter has had my back through some really crappy moments; at a point in life where my world was shot down to nothing, I honest to God had absolutely nowhere to go and no one to turn to. But I had Ventura and someone in it who was waiting to welcome me with open arms and a lot of love.