My cousin Tom was a very funny guy that always saw the silver-lining in everything. His greeting to me was always, "whatchya doin' Memo?", a funny mock greeting emulating his father. This greeting originated from an incident that occurred when I was a teenager. I think the story perfectly illustrates Tom's humor and his ability to see opportunity where others might have been paralyzed by circumstance. I was about 15 or 16 and my mother was invited by Oscar and Otilia (Tom's dad and mother; my aunt and uncle) to accompany them on a trip to Mexicali. It was supposed to be a day trip. They left early in the day and were to return late that night, or so I assumed. In my infinite teenage wisdom I decided that since my mother was gone for the day and would surely not return until very late, I would invite some friends over for some pizza and beer. Yes, we were all too young to drink, but I figured my mom wouldn't be home until late. So there we were, drinking and watching Monday Night Football. Midway through the game I hear a knock at the door and I look out and see my mom standing there with Oscar, Otilia, and Tom (Eric must have been close-by and I don't think Vanessa had been born yet). Of course, I panicked and immediately informed my guests that it was my mom and abandoned them all to run to the bathroom and brush my teeth. As if the alcohol and my stumbling gait could somehow be masked by the smell of toothpaste on my breath. As I'm freshening up in the bathroom trying to gather myself for the inevitable confrontation with my mother, I hear a knock on the door. From beyond the door I hear my uncle Oscar ask, "Whatchya doin' Memo?" And then not two seconds later I hear Tom, in his own irrepressible excitement ask, "Hey Memo, can I have some pizza?" There I was, going through a teenage right-of-passage, getting caught having a party at the house while my parents are away, and all Tom can think about is a slice of pizza. From that day on, until the last time I saw him, he always greeted me the same way. He always asked (and reminded me of that night), "Whatchya doin' Memo?" Well, Tom, what am I doin'? I'm here writing on your online memorial. Whatchya doin' Tommy? P.S. Tom ate the rest of the pizza.