It’s the most basic of web pages.
No pop ups. No banner ads. Even the site title was hard to find.
Just a plain, white, well designed page –
its clean layout drawing the eye to a black and white picture of you and your son.

At first glance, it was a heartening reminder that you were still “the guy”-
The Sultan.

The dude that seemed know everyone in town.
The person that always made room for one more at the bar.
The friend whose smile and attitude always brought light into a room.
The man who is passing all of that on to his son.

It was reassuring to see that time and distance and life had not dimmed such a bright spirit;
that the more things had changed, good things had stayed the same.

It was the headline that hit me like a harder than a Tyson left hook to the liver…
former Waushara Argus publisher dies unexpectedly at 49.

The words physically shoved me back from the screen, causing my brain and thoughts
to skip like the needle on an old, scratched record.

Nothing in the English language that can accurately describe that instant.

Dumbstruck. Staggered. Speechless. Floored. Dazed.
They are adjectives that convey pieces but cannot encompass the whole.
It was a moment that passed in an instant and went on forever.
Like life.

If we’re lucky. We all have a “Sultan”.
Whose light shines whether they are present or not.
Whose lessons and examples and stories are lived, shared and retold.
Who always comes to mind when a certain song comes on the radio.

The song we share started as a joke -
a figurative smirk and literal shake of our collective heads at the state of music in 2001.
But today, parts of it feel and sound different now that you’re gone.

Wonder what you’re doin’. Imagine where you are.
There’re oceans in between us but that’s not very far.

Make some noise.