Over the years I’ve had a variety of roommates … including an FBI agent, a crazy-fun Brazilian girl and a bust-yo-chops Philly native among others. And then there was Matt Evans … a skinny white boy who was barely 20 years old when he moved in.  Like any 20 year old, Matt was totally unfocused, totally unmotivated and totally girl crazy.

Matt and I had absolutely NOTHING in common. We could not have been more different. He was a DJ by trade. He took a 5X5 crawl space under the stairs in my house and turned it in to his music oasis.  There, trapped next to the furnace, Matt would spend countless hours spinning tunes in my basement. Matt was a night owl and I’d often be forced to fall asleep to the relentless, faint whoomp-whoomp and scritch-scritch coming from below the stairs. From time to time, I’d traipse downstairs and ask him nicely to turn down his music. Come to find out the music wasn’t being blared through speakers … it was being blared through his headphones. How this kid didn’t go deaf before age 21 is beyond me. Children are resilient though – and apparently so are their eardrums.

One day Matt announced he was moving out to join the Army. You could have knocked me over with a feather. After several years of being in the National Guard, he decided to take the plunge. Well, either that or he got tired of being a part-time pizza delivery guy.

We reconnected through FaceBook where it turns out he’s stationed in Afghanistan fighting in the Iraq war. Then one day last week he announces he’s coming home on leave and wants to hang out. I invited him to my circuit class so I could thoroughly kick his ass.

When I knew Matt, he weighed 89lbs. soaking wet. He put the skinny in skinny white boy. When he showed up in class, however, you could tell the Army had been good to him. Not only had he grown up, he’d packed on about 30lbs. of sheer muscle. His abs had abs. Instead of the oh-so impressive six-pack, Matt rocked the oh-so insanely cut eight pack. I nearly fell over.

After class I managed to steal Matt away for a quick picture. It’s a wonder I ever got the photo taken, as Matt was busy hitting on all the cougars in my class. Right before the pic was taken, Matt found it necessary to peel his shirt off to show his killer torso. If I looked like Matt, I wouldn’t even own shirts.

So here’s to you DJ Heaven – and your new sense of adventure and spirit. And, of course, for fighting the good fight in our Armed Forces.