Kaivan and I have been friends for about 25 years, ever since the 6th grade. But we were always a little strange, a little interesting. For example, one of my earliest memories from our friendship is our renting the movie version of Poe's "The Pit and the Pendulum" and watching it together in his mom's living room, and falling asleep to it. But "The Pit and the Pendulum"? In the 6th grade? Wow.
Kaivan is also the person who convinced me to read "1984" when he saw a dusty copy of the book on my mom's bookshelf. "It'll expand your imagination," he had said at the time. Before he made his recommendation, though, the only thing I had known of 1984 was that it was a year a few years after my birth.
Kaivan and I have remained in contact all these years, and he's still that interesting, zany, unpredictable, deep and mysterious character I always thought of him as.
Anyway, on New Year's this year, I wrote him Happy New Year, and I wished him happy birthday, because his birthday is also on New Year's. When he wrote back, it was with something that was very profound, I felt. His message was almost a little haiku:
Wow 37... geez.
Hope you had a great and happy new year!
We are lucky to be here. :)
You gotta love it.
Happy New Year, everybody.