Who can’t live without me. I want to be a hero, but not just one time. —CHUCK PALAHNIUK Colin wasn’t buried but cremated, and his girlfriend took his ashes. I didn’t even try to fight her. I don’t even know where she scattered them. It seemed sort of arbitrary anyway, the idea of fighting over his ashes. All of my good memories of Colin were tied in to music, and not only can you always visit a person whose memory you keep woven into music, you can’t fucking get away from them. I started avoiding the radio. I started wearing headphones everywhere with a steady diet of good nineties hip-hop playing constantly. In 2008 Beats by Dre released their headphones, which were perfect. Given that I have one cauliflower ear from my wrestling days, I can’t wear conventional earbuds. Those allowed for me to more effectively ensconce myself in my music and keep from having to interact with the outside world. Two thousand eight was a blur. I decided I needed to start taking my training more seriously, so I ventured out to Las Vegas to train at Randy Couture’s gym.
