Bad Kid, Rest in Peace

for Josh Decker

I’m taking a break from smoking weed. I don’t think you’re allowed to call it getting clean with measly marijuana, but I’ll note that I’d been huffin’ so much that I’m worried about my dealer’s personal finances. He’s a good dude; only checked in once to see if I needed to re-up, and has since respected my pause.

My old friend from junior high, Josh Decker, died recently. Josh was the first person I knew to smoke weed. He tried it with his brother; they got lit up and then “borrowed” a neighbor’s car for a joy ride. When they got caught, his dad punched him in the gut.

Josh was my first bad friend, always getting into trouble. He was one of two people I pushed into composite for my “Bad Kids” poems:

Bad Kids #1 and #2
Bad Kids #3
Bad Kids #4

Josh and me, age 15, on vacation with my family in Myrtle Beach

Josh was also the first soul I saved. I brought his ass to the Lord in 8th grade. I’m not sure how I convinced him to come, but he started attending youth group with me. His dad and his brother made fun of him for that.

One morning after an intoxicating Wednesday night of teenage praise and worship, Josh and I were hanging out at the mall. We wandered around a department store, and Josh said proudly that he’d just chosen to not steal a Nintendo game. I was surprised.

“Why?”

“Because it’d be the wrong thing to do,” he replied. “Last night I gave my life to Christ.”

Josh and I lost touch after my family left Noblesville for the next town over. The move only put 10 miles between us, but I’d also discovered punk around this time, and he… hadn’t. We drifted apart, and over the years I’d only get tidbits of info here and there. Once, it was a news report about him kidnapping someone. He’d driven around with the victim in the trunk of his car.

In those early days of internet reconnections, he found me online. We exchanged a few emails, playing catch up. He was living in Florida, happily married. I’d long lost my religion by then, but Josh said he was involved with a church down there. This annoyed me, and today I’m thinking about why. Perhaps I should have celebrated his on again/off again reach for help, even if I disagreed with the remedy. It’s been a couple decades since that last contact. No word in the obituary on how he died.

NEW INFLUENCERS:

📖 Molly by Blake Butler
It’s a bad sign of the times that anyone cried foul over this book. Ignore that shit, and read it. Sounds like it’s back in print this week.

🎵 Militarie Gun “Do It Faster”
I’m listened to this tune 15 times today. It’s only 7pm, so I’ll probably squeeze in a few more spins. Walker digs it, though she covered one ear as she twirled around in circles listening with me.