For Jack

I heard about Jack Lunde long before I ever met him, as if his personality was too large to just hand over to someone without properly prepping them--in my case, weeks in advance. (Turns out it was.) He finally appeared on an Easter Sunday, when a bunch of us were gathered at Lisa Eisen & David Hudec's house. Lisa had made a leg of lamb and a tablefull of other perfect dishes--such are her talents.

We had a conversation about D.H. Lawrence in a loud bar once when Jack was reading Sons & Lovers, and I had the realization--I think it's pretty safe to assume a lot of people may have had this realization at some point--that Jack was a lot smarter than I had given him credit for, that I had been fooled by all of it: the bawdy sense of humor, the reputation, the beefcakiness. "What do you like about it?" I asked him--meaning the Lawrence. "Oh, you know, emotional manipulation, family dysfunction. It's a real feel good kinda book," Jack said.

He was loud, and he was a little obnoxious (and sexy as hell,) and I would be lying if I said it didn't sometimes feel as if people tolerated his complexity--we all have those friends. One thing about that Easter Sunday that sticks out in my mind is Jack proclaiming, about the habits of gay men: "I know how it works, you diddle-dee-doo and then he fucks you in the asshole!" I liked him, tremendously.

Jack, so many of us miss you. If the uncertainty of the other side became less frightening than every single day, then I hope that wherever you are, some peace has found you.