A tribute to and a call for an Isaiah

So it's late. I went to a movie during the time I would have had dinner. I'm hungry. During years spent in a place I fondly remember as Provo, a call to my friend Isaiah would have had the hunger situation resolved. (Actually, it was more often an IM than a call.) Isaiah was always up for late-night Wendy's, and he would usually drive. In fact, he was always up for whatever I wanted to do, even if it included the risk of post-concert shady-diner waitresses asking us how long we've been dating. Thus developed a great friendship. Then I moved to Boston and started over from social scratch. I miss the Isaiahs in my life and, ya know, would like some more.