I had lunch with my friend Otto last Saturday, at Red Lentil, in Watertown. Otto is not his real name, but he came up with it one day as part of a larger story, and it stuck as a nickname used only be me and people who know him through me. Otto was the first friend I met in Boston, he and I were both trying to find our way around MassArt on the first day, and latched onto each other. He is 4 years older than me, and grew up in and around Boston, and showed me around. He exposed me to the first espresso drinks, Indian food, tofu, and art films I had ever experienced. I'm glad we still make time to hang out once a year or so.