Big mouth and automation rules
He plugs in his iPhone to charge and Siri retorts “Me likey.”
Unplugging the cord she returns “Put it back in daddy” in her robotic and inhuman voice. This goes on alternating between phrases like “you beautiful piece of chocolate” and “me so horny” and “Word on the street is…. You got girth.” When people know Gabe, this makes a lot of sense that he would find a way to make his phone respond to simple actions with vulgar and explicit statements. He’s a creative, clearly.
The weekend continues like this- dirty jokes and total inappropriateness that make us smile wide and keel over in laughter, a medicine I didn’t realize we so much needed. He’d break into a British accent here and there and in the most mundane of moments say a cheery “Right mate!”
Raising two small children, we are hearing a bit more crying than roaring laughter.
We talked about more than sex and racism and death enveloped in dark humor. We sat by the lake and watched the ducks, sipping mango drinks and eating empanadas and cappuccino bread, exchanging thoughts about energy and creativity, friendship and adversity.
The three of us, Gabe, Andrew and I melted into the couches and listened to Eaze Up, Gabe’s new song about resilience and shining and blessings. Under a pretty piano melody thumps a familiar Bay slap. He breaks down his process for us like one of those Genius Deconstructed episodes on YouTube, where songs like Peaches by Justin Bieber or Mo Bamba are dissected, revealing the complex artistry and thought behind catchy hits.
While he started off as Chekmate, a nod to chess, the world will come to know him as Frank Alvin, a lyricist and producer, poet and storyteller. He has his own unique twist to Bay Area style: this weekend walking up to our garage in an Adidas tracksuit, Crocs and his signature jade heart pendant. Aquarian waves are tattooed at the back of his head underneath a perfectly lined shadow fade.
Once, a few years ago, he showed up to a friend’s wedding in a bold salmon toned suit jacket paired with an indigo tie. He owns it and I liked that look. Where we do draw the line is the beautiful (but totally off-brand) dashiki paired with gold chains he almost wore to our Italian lake wedding. It was great energy but not quite the minimalistic vibe we were going for.
And as they say, you’re never fully dressed without a smile. Gabe has of those happy faces that remind you of your favorite childhood cartoon character, silly and fun. Unlike Gumby or Hey Arnold, he’s multidimensional and jumps off the page and screen.
Earlier in the weekend when we walked around our new home, he stopped at some pictures of our travels in our room and said “I’m so proud of you guys.” He’s family and we want to see each other win. And that’s magical.
After laughing around the kitchen island while he made bomb shrimp tacos and catfish and asparagus fries, dancing with our son and taking some work breaks to get that Uncle Mark paycheck, we are rested and lighter from his presence. It’s easy.
When I think about the people I’ve been fortunate to come across in life, it isn’t the grand expressions of love or even deepest of trauma bonds that are always the most impactful. It’s the subtleties of the friend who will give you a ride, hilariously be that guy who fell asleep drunk in the corner of your wedding, the person who texts you a life update and wants nothing from you but to say hello.
It’s ease and light and most of all laughter on a weekend in Seattle when the world is crying.
