"All you can thrash" - our life with pizza

Pizza, the essential food group of youth, I have missed. Ian your love for pizza started early. Mom and I promoted it in Maryland as we loved to eat at Armand's after church. These thick offerings were truly pizza pie -1/2 inch thick goodness of sauce, abundant toppings and mounds of cheese. Though you were young, the blend of bread, meat, stringy cheese and flavorful sauce was a magnet. We do not remember the place's name, but up from our apartment was a pizza place Danny liked. Momma Jean and Poppa Gene when visiting walked you guys there - by hand and stroller - to fulfill the Pogue family's desire for pizza.

In California we continued to enjoy pizza together. Often Digiorno pizza at home, or a bring your own topping pizza night. We would roll out the dough or use pre- made and everyone brought their favorite - bacon seemed to often be on your list. After cooking, we would sit around the table, talk, tell stories, share "highs" and "lows" of the week, and laugh.  

It first was about quarters and video games then pizza. When we first arrived in CA, pizza meant games - so requests to me, Mom, Poppa Gene, anyone for quarters, boosts to see the screens and help. Soon the taste of pizza, the allure of pepperoni and the joy of eating began to moderate games and raise the food value. In California, pizza was mostly about bulk. At Renaissance Pizza yours, Danny's or Caylea's sports teams would crowd for pizza after games, receiving trophies. Teams required mass quantities.


With the play room and pool, armies of youth were always at our house. Pizza was the easy way to please the hoards. Abundant, tasty hot or cold, it was the fuel behind so may weekend or Summer or spontaneous parties. But we learned to mix it up a bit. We all fell in love with grilled, fresh asparagus. At your going away to Texas swim party, pizza flowed, as did a huge plate of asparagus- boys (I remember Kevin in particular) grabbing some sticks as the headed out to the pool.

Texas pizza -we continued bulk pizza nights, Papa John's, the Hut, and others. How could we afford to feed a growing family with visiting populations of guys and girls? On 6th Street we did Hoek's Death Metal Pizza and HomeSlice on South Congress (especially during and after tattoo sessions with Danny). I remember doing a Longhorn game with Alfred your youth leader. The line out of the parking garage was - well long. So we just walked down to 6th Street and hung out and ate pizza from Roppolo's before heading back to the car. Another memory was the metal competition at Red 7 - we came with your gear, unloaded, got our stamps and of course you were hungry!! We grabbed pizza at Hoboken Pies before coming back so you could jam with the Messinas and others.

But, in Texas you discovered "all you can thrash" pizza at Double Dave's. It was there I could tell you of the feasting feats of "Big Red" Don , Clayton and Chris at Texas A&M. Going to lunch, ordering all you can eat, eating vast amounts of pizza, then packing up pepperoni roles in Eppendorf tube bags from the lab for eats later in the week. Thus the experience was deemed, "all you can thrash!"

We started going to Double Dave's when Mom taught at ACC Northridge. It was nearby and an easy mark for lunch when we visited her on campus. A store full of neon beer signs, longhorn paraphernalia and old road signs, held the delights of pizza and plenty of it. You could punish an all you can eat bar. Multiple trips, variety of pizza and dessert pizza. Don't forget the soda. Not healthy, but good.



Mangia and another place near Anderson High were frequented, but Double Dave's was our pizza out place. We could watch basketball games, discuss the week's activities, or explore weekend plans - it was all talk and grubbing. Your giggle, the little spewing of food or drink as you laughed - always remember.

We found Double Dave's in College Station during our visits to check out the school. Mom and Caylea tolerated it. You and I were home. That place on the corner of George Bush and Texas was our favorite haunt each time I visited. We would do TexMex or Chicken Strips, but almost always take in a Double Dave's all you could thrash. You know, we never take pictures of the mundane nor do we record those normal conversations. I have a text from you taunting me about your time at Double Dave's without me. I love looking back at our text conversations. I wish I had pictures of us or recordings as we ate together! I miss all the stories we shared, every giggle coming from you, each talk we had - I miss you.

You went Home on a Friday the 19th, and your friends had your name called at Muster that Sunday the 21st. Yes the 'officially' recognized class years were loud, but your name was greeted with a "Here" that resonated from the upper deck and up from the floor. Rivaled them all. 

As Muster ended, 80-100 classmates flooded down to greet Mom's sisters and family, my family, friends from Austin and our broken family of Austin Pogue's. What love did they share! What funny stories did they tell! We had cleaned your dorm room out hours before - the hardest thing I may ever do in my life - and many friends of yours wanted something, a t-shirt or desk or study relic to remember you by. One friend carried your red stapler (yes Office Space) to Muster with him and to the floor. Your memory and inspiration filled our minds.

How do you follow that? Only one answer - a Double Dave's "all you can thrash" meal. 80+ people landed on our Double Dave's, tens of pizzas were ordered. Everyone ate, told stories, remembered you and cried - yes there were lots of tears. Mom wore your favorite t-shirt - a San Francisco 49er shirt, the one-fish, two-fish, red fish, blue fish pajama pants you reluctantly let me buy you at Target (turned out to be your fav) and favorite beanie you wore to control your curly locks as you grew them out to donate to Locks of Love. Those clothing items went to rest with you and were spread that next weekend around your favorite Austin places: Zilker Park and Rock Island (on a frisbee at times!) and Mount Bonnell, where you carried Seraina to ask her to prom.

We went back to that Double Dave's twice more with your friends for an "all you can thrash" meal, to hear new stories of you and catch up with their lives.











I still remember the stories of pond hopping, Valentine gifts, lifting and fitness that emerged as we ate the world's least healthy meal. But that was so you - a portrait of health, strongest kid I had ever known, full of creativity and joy - now not with us, doomed by sleeplessness, unable to conquer narcolepsy by a health routine, a quiet house and remembered with a tear. Pizza - so good, yet so not.











Every day I remember you with such joy and such sadness. The joy and thankfulness of each moment we spent together coupled with the loss, the sadness and anger that those moments are gone. I weep.








I returned to Double Dave's to "thrash" again today. It is never the same. You are not there with me. Our family committed to not end things as with a period "." amid loss and addiction, but continue as with a semicolon ";".

My tattoo - חֶסֶד; - reminds me that chesed - the covenant, steadfast loving kindness - of our God never ceases. It is truly an "all you can thrash" love that extends beyond failure, sin, loss and time to embrace us where we are and take us to where we will be reunited again forever. I must preach the good news to myself daily and continue in His love.

Love you E