the man with the perfect moustache. (final word)

about six years ago dave went thru this phase where he was doing everyone's hair. he had highlighted his friend chuck's hair and was almost giddy from the experience. "lyza jane, you have to let me do your hair. i think it would be great with highlights." up until this point in my life i had never colored my hair...i had always had the mousy brown hair with the natural highlights in the summer. i was ok with mousy brown, it suited me, and it had always been healthy strong shiny fine beautiful hair.

weeks went by and i had all but forgotten about the conversation. "so when are you going to let me highlight your hair?" dave asked me one day out of nowhere. ummm, never. at least that's what i had thought. but he worked me from different angles, he called esta' in seattle to get her on board with the idea and also enlisted our mutual friend anne. and as strange as this may sound, dave was the kind of person that you had a hard time NOT trusting. needless to say it didn't take long.

and so the next thing you know i'm sitting in dave's bathroom with a skullcap on and many many tiny pieces of my hair sticking thru the holes in said skullcap. did i mention the many many? deep breath, on goes the color lifter, breath out, color gone from the hair that had been pulled thru the many many holes, and rinse.

i must have had a funny look on my face as i left dave's place because he kept asking, "are you sure you like it? it looks great honey. i swear it looks great. are you sure you're alright?" ummm, no. i don't know, maybe the shirt i was wearing that night just wasn't a flattering color for a blonde...how would i have known if i'd never been one before. the thing is, i wasn't supposed to be a blonde...just some highlights, that what he had said, right? the truth is, i hated it! it was horrible. and this is coming from a woman who now willingly submits to the occasional chemically induced highlight.

dave called the next morning, "sweetie are you ok? i'm concerned that you hate it." my reply being something in the vein of, "dave, i feel like a ho." (yes that was the exact word i used.) "a ho dave, i feel like a ho. and that is not a good thing." i went back over to dave's that day and we dyed my hair back to it's regular shade of mousy brown. the whole process fried my hair and took a good two years for the damage to grow out. but whenever i think about those two days, those two days out of many that i spent with him, i smile and i laugh. so that's the one i'm going to share today.

dave died on february 18, 2007, he was 55. it was a sunday. i found out the following tuesday morning when i got to work. i cried for the first time two weeks later. it was a saturday. dave died from AIDS related complications. he is survived by his family and many many friends who loved him. i am just one of them.


good night my friend...i never did like goodbyes.