The Meat

Not everyone knew Ken Ballard as “The Meat”. Only to a few did this nickname personify his demeanor. The only situation I think actually explaining this profound nickname was in high school, about junior year or so when all the juniors were able to go out during lunch and grab a quick bite. A couple of us including Ken drove to El Pollo Loco and grabbed lunch. For some reason, Ken was wild that day, which come to think of it, was everyday that I knew that crazy boy. He ordered a whole cooked chicken, brought it back to class, ate it in front of everyone, and made some of the girls sick. By the time he was done, grease, gristle, fat and all, the nickname was branded right after that, and still carries on to this day.

That is what I always held dear to me, those crazy, sometimes way out there moments that Ken graced myself, and a whole lot of people, to be a part of. Like the time in high school where he took a vintage fire extinguisher and filled it with water. I drove my car, where he would douse scared freshman who were running away from us on there way home for lunch. Or the stoplight water-gun fights, where a bunch of us would get out of our cars at a red light, and change seats while Ken tried to drench us with the super soaker. Or the senior pranks we did at the high school like buying a freshwater shark and releasing it into the schools pool while the girls water polo team practiced. Or the beer can crushing on our foreheads just to show off and then later having splitting headaches because of our misuse of aluminum cans. Another crazy moment is when we all went to the Metallica concert in Mountain View, got so pumped up there, and became senseless boobs to everyone and anything that was around us. If only someone had a video camera then. And speaking of Metallica, Ken even called me one of several times when he was serving his first tour over in Bosnia, while proudly playing Metallica on the loudspeaker of his M1A1 tank in the heat of battle. Or the funny senseless things he would yell out to strangers like “ Hey, I am a sexy burrito, or “ I have a sexy meat”. Please don’t ask me to explain these terms.

But, in the mix of craziness and spur of the moment antics, there was always a serious side to Ken. One that I could relate to, he could relate to me, as he would relate to anyone at hand here. He always spoke of the future, spoke of his dear moms, and always had a certain plan of action, whatever he was doing. He confided in me throughout high school, as I did him, and so on past college. We kept in touch as much as we could, visited each other with the same group of friends whenever he had a leave from his duty. He is still the good guy I know, would always get between a fight or an argument to make sure the party went smoothly, even if he had too many beers.

For me, so many memories have embedded into my head that Ken was a big part of, or should I say ringmaster of. Only a truly, honorable and special person could of created and shared that power of memorabilia that I hold dear to me till this day. His explosive and dramatic personality seemed to light up the lazy and stagnant days in life for myself as for so many. Ken was, is, and always will be one of my best friends, just because for one basic fact, Ken was Ken. Period. No foolish games, no secret icing on the cake, just a pure honest man that loved his friends and family, of who went on protecting us with his service, and once in awhile, became a little too crazy for no apparent reason. A hero some will say because he exhibited the efforts of a hero while serving in the US Army, yet Ken was a hero already in our minds and hearts way before his enlistment into the armed forces. As you said to me many times as I said to you, I am proud of you man, I really am. I will surely miss our close conversations, crazy stunts, philosophical jargon, our brotherhood, but don’t you worry, I have that cold beer you have been waiting for, since you are now finally home