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near the curb on monster island
Bucks County Pyramids
Bucks County Pyramids
Mill Valley, Ca
If you do nothing, nothing will happen.
shit aint fish
Words can't express how deeply saddened I am by this.
Although, I got to hang out with him only a couple of times, he was one of the most genuine people I have ever met.
bringin' the pain like a french baker
Just to share a little bit... One of the first times I ever met this guy... maybe *the* first, he came to my then-fledgling store. We had traded some messages - PMs - through soulstrut a bunch of times before, but I don't *think* we had met, and if we had, it was in the rush of many people and beers and nighlife and well, I don't have the best memory anyway. So the guy is hitting me up, like, yo! I'm coming to town! And I am like, awesome, let's get it in, I owe you a beer, or a few of them, and we should... anyway, the day comes, and the guy shows up, and we're kicking it... he brings a 6-pack of Leffe. We each have a beer. We're talking shop and whatever, and then all of a sudden he says he's got to go meet some family. I am confused at first - who comes to a record shop with a 6 pack only to dip out 20 minutes later with a family date, not some spur-of-the-moment oh-shit-my-friend's-in-town or this-hot-girl-from-last-night-just-called business, but family, some shit that was probably planned two weeks ago, and reminded multiple times, in all likelihood that very day, knowing how family can be, or at least once or twice since he landed at JFK. I mean, who does that?
Aaron knew all along. He handed me a couple of homemade CDs and pushed the beers over to me on some "you'll figure it out" yoda shit, and he was out.
I posted one of those mixes on my site and asked him for a tracklist. I wrote, "it's called 'Records Are People Too'." He responded that he called every mix that, and sent me what he thought was the track list but wasn't sure. And that was just like Aaron. The title implies some kind of shut-in obsession, but it's really the opposite - this is a man with a love for life so visceral that these little records might as well have been sitting right next to him in human form. And also a man who would think absolutely nothing of sharing that love with a random friend-of-a-friend, a stranger really. And do it so often that he called them all the same thing and somehow, the tracklisting that he sent wasn't wrong. Still, people aren't records, and these experiences aren't pieces of plastic that I can always return to. Minds fail, and memories get embellished or vanish in the smoke and mirrors of the input saturation that we all live with. It's been my absolute pleasure and privilege to know this guy and I pray with every fiber of my being that there'll be more fun times down the road like the one depicted up top in that photo.