Jack "Jackie-boi" Mardon

Make a person with something you can't name and can't teach.

He cracks me up. That's where we have to start.

There's something genuinely tricky about being the dad of one of your funniest, most charismatic mates. Especially when that mate is your 11 year old son.

Jackie-boi picks up on the vibrations of a room. Not just reads them. Understands them. And then does exactly the right thing with it. Sometimes that's the line that has everyone losing it. Sometimes it stops you mid-thought and undoes years of certainty you didn't know you were carrying. Sometimes he just looks at you in that way he has and you can't help but squeeze him.

People are drawn to him. There's no other way to put it. Funny, kind, humble, cheeky in exactly the right amounts. Magnetic in a way you can't manufacture. You either have it or you don't.

He plays soccer and basketball at a level he never mentions. He says things that stop adults cold. He makes everyone feel like the best version of the moment they're in.

He's me. But better. Better hardware. Better calibration. More magic. I mean that as the highest compliment I know how to give.

Growing up way too fast. It's rude. Stop it.

Some people arrive with something you can't manufacture. You don't take credit for it. You just try to stay close enough to witness it.

If he reads this: Jackie-boi. You stop me in my tracks on a regular basis. You make me smile at the ceiling. You make me want to be better just by being you. I love you to the moon and back and round again. Don't ever stop talking.