Caught The Dark Knight premiere the other night. Free nachos and beer! The movie rocked before it began. Also meant I’d forever associate nacho/beer breath with this particular flick which, you know, no movie really deserves (except maybe Old School).

As previously tweeted, Heath Ledger was phenomenal — when he wasn’t channeling Harry Solomon from 3rd Rock from the Sun. I couldn’t completely immerse myself in his maniacal take when I kept expecting a message from The Big Giant Head.

Awesome movie, not hugely enjoyable (and I love dark). Iron Man won this round.

Walking back from the Global ICT Townhall meeting with our Section Chief, I was eloquently waxing frustrated (frustratic?) at the collection of totally uninspiring bureaucrats who assembled to present an ICT strategy that’s supposed to drag us into the 21st century.

Save for a perky fresh hire young enough to be the daughter of every other person on stage (who had to resist the urge to channel her inner pop-star when she took hold of the hand-held), these guys exhibited the kind of enthusiasm for their respective projects usually reserved for root canals or invasive surgery. They looked defeated before they’d begun and projected the image of inevitable failure and futility.

So I was totally laying into them to my Chief on our way back to our offices, saying they should staff this thing with thirty-something year old drop out tech heads from the Valley with extensive experience in failed start ups. And then put some ex-CEO, Silicon Valley evangelist-type with VC contacts and some serious tech cred. Someone… Someone…

Then he goes, “Guy Kawasaki.”

And I go nuts, going, “Yes! Exactly. Someone like Guy Kawasaki!”

This is all by way of saying, I’ve got one of the coolest bosses in history. He gets it. He gets me. (He completes me.) And he knows of Guy Kawasaki. (And OK, no, he doesn’t complete me.)

He’s the one who should be running that show.

My best friend’s last entry is a single line Bronte quote on friendship. The irony of it is, it’s exactly that attitude towards our particular friendship that made me remain his all those years. And even now, actually.

He hasn’t counted me as one of his for several years now. A bad falling out, both of us at fault. I like to think that if we run into each other at some bar in Malate we’d give each other the most casual of acknowledgments, order a carafe of white, and continue some long lost conversation from a decade ago without skipping a beat.

The last message I got from him through a common friend makes this somewhat unlikely though (I believe it was something to the effect of, “up yours”).

Meh. Maybe one day he’ll get over it. The carafe will be on me.