“Donny was a good bowler, and a good man. He was one of us. He was a man who loved the outdoors… and bowling, and as a surfer he explored the beaches of Southern California, from La Jolla to Leo Carrillo and… up to… Pismo. He died, like so many young men of his generation, he died before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you took so many bright flowering young men at Khe Sanh, at Langdok, at Hill 364. These young men gave their lives. And so would Donny. Donny, who loved bowling. And so, Theodore Donald Karabotsos, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your final mortal remains to the bosom of the Pacific Ocean, which you loved so well.
Good night, sweet prince.”
I often visit this lonely cliff where we spread my good buddy Donny’s ashes years ago. I always wonder what he might be doing if he were here right now. I like to imagine us going to roll together, going to In-N-Out and as I drive around familiar streets we cruised in the past I can still feel him leaning forward from the back seat breathing annoyingly on my neck. I love you Donny!