Questions I never got to ask Dan Lund

Did you like knock-knock jokes?

Were you, like me, Gramsci’s long term optimist and short term pessimist?

What rituals from childhood did you hang onto for dear life?

In order to think, did you need to whistle or hum?

Did signing a check require your tongue to be in the left corner of your mouth?

Did you dream en espanol?

How did you become so Mexican and stay so gringo?

Did you lose or find yourself in the films that obsessed you?

My perversely naïve Obama poem – why did you like it?

Kids with wings – what magic trick did you and Cristina perform? 

Where did you put your mistakes – into the pit of oblivion or the gnaw of remorse?

Did you ever get over the death of your parents?

Did you despair as our dreams were miserably defeated, hijacked and hollowed out? 

What was Utopia's address in your heart of hearts?

You who risked your life fighting the system, was there something or someone that terrified you?

Surrounded by love, did loneliness stalk you?

Did self-doubt take you out to the woodshed for a good beating?

What music reduced you to tears?

Why did you consider me a friend, me who knew so little about friendship until nearly the end?

Did you know you were changing history when you were changing history?

Why did you never stop laughing?

                                                                             
                                                                                                  -- Vancouver, November 19, 2010