Today I say goodbye to a wonderful friend of mine. Clayton was already working at the lab when I got there, and we hit it off from day one (or maybe it was two).

Though he is the same age as me, Clayton is considerably older and wiser. The impact he’s had on my life is immeasurable. He opened my ears to music, attempting to give me some taste, though he may have failed in that regard. We were able to talk literally for hours sometimes about practically everything, from home improvement to women to sport to politics and philosophy. Talking with Clayton is always very easy, because his brilliance shines through in a way that makes you feel smart, too. As learned as he is, both from books and despite them, he has a remarkable ability to teach you some of what he knows without making you feel like a total moron, moron though you might be.

I was able, I trust, to teach him a thing or two along the way in the places that I do know a little something, from Drupal to Perl to bash, and probably a dozen other things that seemed important at the time.

Like other wonderful people, Clayton leaves the Lab this morning for a new job at the University of Wisconsin. (Sometimes I think we act like a farm club for those guys). I’d wish him all the luck I had, if I believed in such things or thought he needed it. But I don’t believe in luck, and he doesn’t need it anyway. Clayton can’t help but land on his feet, whatever he does. You know that type of person, that whatever he does is elegant and right? Yeah, that’s him.

I know that we’ll still keep in touch through email, IM, and perhaps even the occasional visit. We’re probably not done collaborating on cool projects. Nevertheless, there’s a large, a large and significant portion of my life that will be irreperably different tomorrow. Strong as I think I am, it’d have me blubbering like a third-grade girl if I thought about it long enough.

I’ll miss you, my good friend. Life around here was considerably more bearable with you around. Hit the ground running, as you are known to do, and watch them, like us at the Lab, stand in awe of your greatness.