Mileposts. Days that alter the course of our lives... whether or not we necessarily want to remember them for what they represent. Carlton, my best friend of 30 years, died two years ago Jan. 6. In 2009, his NYC posse gathered to mark the date. This time, the evening before, I made three phone calls, to talk to friends about his endurance. Otherwise, I think we've decided that from this point on, to honor his birth—May 30—and let this date be acknowledged, quietly, personally. And yet I know those many that he touched still feel a giant void. And always will.