I have this enduring image of Brendan from the summer of '88. Brendan had decided at the last minute, and after I sub-leased his room, that he wanted to spend the summer in Athens. So, I pulled an extra mattress into my room at 20 Brown Avenue. It was hot that summer. Real hot at night. We would lie on our backs, feet to feet, throwing two tennis balls back and forth simultaneously. We did this most nights until it was cool enough to sleep. The fan was in the window aimed at our feet, and we would take turns picking out jazz records to play. He had just inherited all his Dad's jazz vinyl and I was feverishly buying up all the jazz vinyl I could afford. I had a red light bulb in the ceiling fixture. Two tennis balls cutting the humid red air. Betty Carter singing, "Look what I got ... to hold and kiss ..."

--Gary Causer

Memories memories!! Most of mine are of driving in the Toyota with Bondo headbanging to the Melvins or ALA Wayne & Garth style whenever Queen came on. Driving in the Fairmont with Spiro and Brendan to Cincinnati for the Prince concert, getting a flat afterwards in a bad neighborhood and looking at the distraught faces of the boys wondering if they were gonna get beat up again, (not by me of course). Baking turnip pie, watching episodes of SCTV, and trying to learn his brilliant dance moves, like the Fred Sandford, and screaming "nice ass" to people out the car window, giggling throughout the entire Naked City concert. And there's the time he called me in Colorado to tell me how he almost burned down the House Of Love with the penis and vagina candles.

--dangercrowe

Brendan will be missed. I'll always appreciate his creative spirit that ventured out to explore new musical adventures. He turned me on to John Zorn and introduced me to a slew of other music, all for which I'm grateful. One memory I'll always carry with me is watching him at the Union jamming away, happy as can be. I'm sure you were playing drums. Another fond thought is the plant he sent Melissa and I when he learned that our daughter Julia died. His gift was very kind and thoughtful. And I'll remember that my friendship with him all started when you suggested he become a part of the store; his contribution helped make Schoolkids a great place. Death is a gift, for it relieves immense suffering, but it is also our enemy; it permanently separates us from those we love. In death I've been comforted by the words of Jesus: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die" (John 11:25-26).

<--Ted (Schoolkids)

Brendan is someone who has never felt far away and though I've been up and down in this tailspin and heartspin of thoughts a thousand times these past weeks I know that won't ever change. Brendan will remain permanently fixed in my heart and mind in those same thousands of places. For lack of better words he was just a great person. And there are thousands of memories and they all reach different places in me--though the scales tip a little heavy on the side of belly laughing and absurdity because Brendan would put up with the absurdity and was the champion of belly laughing...
 

A couple snapshots are these -- Brendan, Spiros and I all in red union suits sitting around 135 Grosvenor making up songs and noises, renaming each new band with each new (to me) CD that he brought home. I couldn't keep the bands straight and Brendan thought it was pretty funny how I would always slaughter or mingle a few bands together--so the formal renaming of bands then became entertainment for weeks--Sun Rasta and Royal Crescent Wrench to name a few. I know it's not much beyond mad magazine humor but I always appreciated his broad mindedness when it came to "funny". Lately the memory that pops into my head the most is simply meeting him.

We were both on top floors of our dorms --his window facing mine with a courtyard for shouting across in between. Within a few hours of arriving at O.U. we both appeared at our respective windows waved to each other, quietly yelled our names to each other and hung out over the next four years a lot. Probably everyone feels like they hung out with Brendan A LOT--and plenty did--more than me I know-- but so many of my BEST memories of O.U. have Brendan in the picture.

Ok one more creeping in from 135 Grosvenor--it was one of those times we were too lazy to actually go anywhere, we had just finished yet another shiny lip meal in a box--Artichoke Parmesan Pie from Late Nite--a staple after Gwen and Gary moved out and we forgot how to clean and cook and had a spare room for pizza boxes to be stored in... Anyway we were a little stir crazy and started playing a few little jokes on one another--I guess as revenge for putting green bunny in Brendan's bed I got locked in the closet which unbeknownst to Brendan had Heidi Kellner's spare prosthesis in it--I flipped when the leg fell on me and sought revenge the rest of our days as housemates.

It's been strange being flooded with all of these memories and with so many of you a part of them. I'm really glad so many of you were there for and with Brendan, Jen, and his folks. I only wish I could've too. I would love to hear more from folks--I know everyone will remember Brendan in their own voice and that's what makes it all the more wonderful.
 

--Amy Foster

As a bandmate of Brendan's, it's natural that a lot of my memories revolve around music. I've had the honor of playing with Brendan in three bands. He's influenced my playing to an overwhelming degree, even though we played different instruments. His phrasing, humor, and emotion certainly made a big impression on me. I'll be digesting everything he taught me for a long time. When Norton's Orchestraville played in front of an audience, Brendan's energy tripled. Especially when he got to be "noisemaker" with his guitar. I remember one time in particular. We were playing our "epic" song, "Taxidermy Scheme." The climax of the song was an eight measure phrase repeated six times (he insisted on six when we wrote it). Each time we made a pass through that phrase, we played it with increased intensity. I remember looking over at Brendan, twiddling with the distortion controls on his amp with his left hand, attacking the strings with his right hand. He wasn't even chording the guitar!

More than anyone, Brendan could comfort me when I had a personal crisis. He would drop what he was doing just to cheer me up, or offer words of encouragement. I'm having a hard time using past tense verbs in relation to Brendan. His soul is alive, and it's still with us.
 

--Keith Hanlon

I just wanted to point out the legend of of Brendan's namesake, St. Brendan the Navigator. He was a "seeker of adventure with a compelling desire to travel", and may have been the first European to visit our continent. When I'm sailing, my mind oftentimes drifts toward both Brendan the Navigator and Brendan the McKay.
 

--Ken Dornbach

Hi everybody. Sorry it's taken so long to respond. It has taken awhile to assimilate the events of the past month and processing them I'm sure will take many moons. I wasn't sure if I wanted or was ready to share my memories of Brendan. They feel deeply personal, but I realized it (for me) IS part of the healing process. And in spite of being so sick, Brendan was a medicine man of sorts. Here goes. I apologize for grammar. I'm the queen of run-on sentences .
 

I met Brendan late. Later than most. You know how you can be walking out the door as someone you just are destined to meet is walking in. Well, there we were. Brendan and I in, of course, Athens. I was leaving in a few weeks. Getting out of Athens to save my life if not my soul. Brendan had just returned from Taos. We chatted about New Mexico. He encouraged me to leave Athens, to save myself. He assured me that Kate and Spiros would help take care of me, which they did. I left. It was one of the best choices I ever made. I had never lived outside of Ohio; I was 25!!!!
 

After nine months or so away from the iron womb--that's what I call Ohio--I returned, but not to Athens--to Columbus (it has many other names as well but I'm sure you can imagine). I didn't want to get sucked into the Athens Vortex. I stayed in Columbus long enough to make barely enough money to go West again. I saw Brendan many times visiting Athens and catching rock shows in CuntCrust (ooops there's one of the nicknames for Cols.). I started strong-arming or mouthing Brendan into a Western tour. Brendan loves to travel. I hope he has the wind at his back (soulful) now.
 

It didn't take much persuading; he'd been in A-town for nine whole months. We left Ohio under a blue moon on August 30. We took a northern route, up through Michigan, the UP, Minnesota, North Dakota, and then south again through the badlands, Devils Tower, Yellowstone, the Tetons... We were blessed with the glories North America holds. Truly there were breathtaking sights. I live for them. We saw a double rainbow in Michigan. We heard loons on a lake we camped at in Minnesota. So many bison in Yellowstone. My longtime friend, comrade and sister of choice, Tracy Greenwalt, travelled with us. She was a novice traveller, and never loosened up to the road ahead or behind. Psychologically or is that psychically, it was a hard trip. I was making my second great escape. She and Brendan were my escorts, my support. They will never know how much it meant to me to have them there with their raw silence. The dynamic between them was lacking. I'm glad they went on to be creative together in the Johnson Family.
 

I guess I could make a long story of a long journey short and tell you I made them go to Boise. For no good reason, I forced us to sail across Idaho and stop in America's cleanest white potato city/town. This is where I remember Brendan best. We were leaving Boise heading home--my new home, Missoula, Montana. (Boise is quite the DETOUR) I was driving. I pulled out into a quiet intersection and hit a man on a motorcycle. I just didn't see him. His bike skidded. He cut his leg, but was otherwise fine and pissed-off!!! I was utterly embarrassed. I felt like a failure. I just hated myself--"Black Cloud Debbie" strikes again. Brendan and I sat on this stranger's (Boise is a friendly town) porch and I cried and cried. I sobbed and Brendan just held me and said it was going to be ok.. And it was. Brendan has never brought the incident up to me again. I love him for that and for holding me and saying the truth to me. It was tumbleweed in the wind to him and the important thing was that I made it Missoula insane or not. We did just that. We camped again in Idaho and within twenty-four hours were in Montana. We spent several days with Skip and Andrea. We went to Jerry Johnsons (hot springs), to a drive-in movie, to parties and then Brendan took a Greyhound bus back to Ohio. Tracy was long gone. A Greyhound from Montana to Ohio is the true test of friendship and I knew Brendan was my friend forever, even if I was nuts.
 

My next visit to Ohio was around Halloween a year or so later and not without incident. I'll save that for when I die. Halloween night, Brendan became seriously ill and ended up going to Cleveland for tests. He was diagnosed with Lymphoma. The heartbreak begins here. I went to Painesville on my way back to Montana and spent some time with Brendan. I gave him my bear bell. People hang bells off their backpacks and around their necks to warn any foraging bears (grizzlies) that there is someone coming. Brendan knew this. I was also acknowledging in that act that Brendan had bear medicine and was of the bear clan. (I hope you can stomach the hokey new age/ pseudo Native American nature of this). I saw Brendan again in the very hot humid summer of 95, I think. We hung out a couple of times in Athens. He'd taken up being a stoner; it came with chemo. I noticed the bear bell in his stash box. I love this man. I am so very glad I was able to say goodbye. He meant more than I could ever relay to him. He wouldn't allow for that. Again, on January 26, 1997, Brendan told me, "its gonna be o.k.". I believe him. That's the best thing I can do. I am also ecstatic I was able to reconnect with you all or connect as the case maybe. It was short and sweet and sad, but I took so much (love and richness of life) back here with me. I keep it and use it to project me forward. Thanks.
 

--Debbie Little

The first time I saw Brendan was at O'Hooleys open mic. The host, the bearded folk singer, announces that here are some boys who are going to get up and play the blues, they go by "Blue Midnight". And there gets up two of the skinniest, geekiest, collegiate, whitest looking boys I have ever seen and I think "Yea, right!", a full sneer crossing my synapses. Much to my surprise, out of Brendan's guitar comes country blues rolling along and from Convo a mean aching harp and a sweet surprising baritone like Lightning Hopkins, In fact they do a Lightning Hopkins number, another surprise! Up to that point I didn't know anyone else aside from my father who listened to the old country blues. I didn't really like electric stuff and the basic dum-DAH, dum-DAH, dum-DAH, dum-DAH twelve bar, every begining guitar player learns it, stuff. Real country blues coming up of the hand and necks of these skinny white kids. I was a bit dumfounded and told folk about my strange experience. What I didn't know at the time was that Brendan would be one the musicians in my life that had real influence on my playing and how I approached improvising.

--sxip

I've been thinking about Brendan a lot and trying to think of something really great to share with the list, but most of my memories of Brendan don't involve any great or decisive moments. Like Chris Schoen said, being with Brendan was like being part of your own private comedy team and Brendan's role was often the straight man with the perfect timing and the deadpan delivery. He was the quiet, brilliant foil to the excesses of his many other more gregarious partners. Most of the shtick took place in cars and buses and kitchens and while walking, walking, always walking. All of it has vanished now but I am left with a nice, warm, wacky memory of my time with B-dan. Brendan had a crush on Squeeky Fromme when he was a kid -- you know, the woman who took a shot at President Ford -- and it seemed that no matter where he lived he had a copy of Helter Skelter nearby with that soft-focus innocent-looking photo of Squeeky. He was really into old hawaiian music and knew lots of statistics and stories about the Cleveland Indians. He could tell you about a lot of obscure moments in American History, like blacklisting in Hollywood and the beginnings of Rhythm and Blues. And, oddly, about the Johnson and Nixon administrations. And he played a mean game of whiffle ball. He knew lots of Jackie Gleason comedy routines. He wasn't much of a cook, but he had a great appreciation of food and would always tell whoever cooked the meal, "this is a-maaay-zing." He fixed his shoes with duct tape. This is why I love him.
 

--Gary

You all are beautiful. Reading the messages has brought so much back to me. A lot of us seem to have had very seperate but strikingly similar experiences hanging out with Brendan. Reading Deb's message reminded me of the time Brendan and I drove from the Canyonlands of Utah to Seattle. We did 1100 miles of the 1300 mile trip in one day. At sunset that day, as we were leaving Idaho and entering Oregon, we drove straight through a double rainbow.
 

--duk

I remember being chased around by Brendan and JR one "trippy" Halloween some 9 years ago or so....they were showing me cans of "potted meat product" and viennasausages. aaaaakkkk! :-)

--Jeannette

The first thing that sprouted to my mind when I started listening [to the Johnson Family tape] was something that Brendan said on our last visit. he and gary had gotten into the realm of music-speak where i was totally lost in the dust - but i was really enjoying just being there to take it all in. at one point the talk turned to bluegrass. brendan's reply was, "bluegrass must be stopped." his voice kept ringing clear as i listened and thought of the very strangeness of memory and how we all make memories live in our hearts.
 

oh, but shady grove. what a beautiful thing. i'm sure i'd never really heard brendan sing and it was hard for me to hear his voice (the speaking one that i know) in that sonorous, smooth song. thanks again for the gift. spotted hale-bopp for the first time last night. we'll see how early i can get betty (pooch) to come to the park w/ me tomorrow morning (maybe even gary will come...)

--Gwen

Once while falling subject to another Evil Orange practice at 102 Mill St. the upstairs inhabitants--myself and Brendan included--found it impossible to go about routine or even make conversation over the tedious and repetitious noise. We found ourselves in the kitchen, crazy, ears ringing, making up dances and freezing at the breaks. Brendan was doing a wonderful Charleston, shaking his hands in the air. It was most hilarious.
 

--Plush

Aloha mi compadres. I just learned of this list yesterday and read the archives today - a heady dose of nostalgia even for us slaves of A-town who live and breathe the stuff.
 

Brendan let me live in his room at North Lancaster around the time of the Gulf War because I was homeless and he was never there. I've always looked back on that time as the happiest of my life, because of the amazing and wonderful people that I was constantly surrounded with. (Anyone who was there and doesn't remember me, I was the one with my face surgically attached to the nintendo screen). That's a big one I owe him.
 

Here's a Brendan story - I think this happened in the spring of that year (or maybe it was some other year - who would've thought you would need all those brain cells later?) and me and B were walking around, shooting the breeze, over by Foster Place, when I noticed the gate was open on the fence around Sunpower and the Laughlin warehouse. So we went exploring/trespassing, first wandering down a pitch-black corridor and scaring the bejesus out of ourselves, then I climbed up a ladder and onto the roof, trying to to talk Brendan into stealing their satellite dish and dragging it home, finding that once the first rooftop was breached, further heights were easily attained. I was rapidly ascending the many levels of rooftop available, when Brendan, who was right behind me, mentioned in passing that he was afraid of heights. "Reeeeal bad" he added for emphasis. But he kept up with me, nearly climbing to the very top of the 6-story building, looking a bit pale but confronting his fears in a downright heroic fashion because we were, after all, having an Adventure.
 

--Jason Grey

Ground Hog Day is my fave holiday and i know brendan was fond of it too. He had a funny joke that mixed Groundhog day with Easter/Jesus stuff...does anybody remember it?

--spiro
 

Spiro:

I believe the story went like this: Christ died for our sins on Friday. On the Third Day, Easter Sunday morning, he rose from the dead, stepped out of the crypt, saw his shadow and there was six more weeks of winter. Which makes about as much sense as any other telling of the story.
 

--Tom McKay

Hey folks. It's been great reading everyone's thoughts and stories about Brendan. I wish I could give you all a hug in person. I myself, keep a can of Chicken Vienna Sausages that Shymko gave me on the kitchen counter. This is in memory of Brendan and the strange and ongoing eating contest we used to have wherein we would dare each other to eat the most horrifying "foods" possible. My experiences with Bendan were always filled with some of the strangest and most beautiful humor. There are a number of folks here in Seattle who have shared memories of Brendan with me. Cat Brooks (who just had a baby girl!), Jen Nye, Robin Brown, Randy Wood, and of course David Glass and Shymko (who's letting me use his computer). As soon as I can secure myself a modem, I will be in contact more often. Until then my address is 1514 18th Sea, WA 98122. Y'all need to come visit.
 

J-Ran

"...brendan had a herring pool..." -- james joyce
 

the year i lived with brendan changed the course of my world. We (mostly) made it through. Always, somewhere in the house, was laughter. always, somewhere in the house, was hope. always, somewhere in the house, were just too many people... spiro[s], brendan, and i found a great house-share on north lancaster, we found it ideal for hosting twin peaks parties. just enough room for anyone who was interested to squeeze in for the spread of doughnuts and coffee. we would go out to krogers and buy boxes of stale doughnuts at 30 a dozen (or something ridiculous like that) and make too much coffee and all get wired on coffee and sugar. i can remember staying up all night watching akira kurosawa films with bondo and convo. we became big-ass (brendan always wanted to be called that) shrimp ptomaine (convo) and bellyhead (me). somehow i convinced those two to come out to montana and work with me at glacier park. i soon saw that the isolation really wasn't for them and wished them godspeed as andrea, skip and spiro came through, for their over-crowded car got even more packed with bodies lying on top of luggage. what a sight, and always an adventure.
 

--David Glass

Our summer in Montana. Brendan and I had no idea what to do after OU, (I remember sitting in Just Desserts together once, wondering what the fuck we were going to do, shaking out heads saying, well at least graduation is still 2 years away) and Dave and Amy had been very persuasive of Glacier Park's charms. (They were right). I would say it wasn't so much the isolation that triggered our bail-out as the lack of free time. We had jobs in a restaurant in the park, with some very interesting characters--for example a guy (whose name I forget) who preached in the campgrounds on Sunday and called Brendan and I "the white buddhas". And a cook named Juanita. Juanita was a large Indian woman who would work 6 days, then get drunk for 9, then comeback to work for 6 days etc. She was willful... Juanita was a big reason why we didn't stay on at the restaurant. We would work 6 day weeks, and be too tired on the 7th for any fun. We went fishing a few times with David, but mostly I remember spending our days off going to see Amy at the Park Cafe, sitting in the sun reading, playing guitar... and around midsummer we talked it over, and decided to move on.
 

When we first arrived in Montana we lived in the Men's trailer where we shared a room. sort of like a white-trash version of the mod at Armbruster, but with no girls. I remember taking showers at an ungodly hour of the morning before work, sharing a bottle of bardolino brendan had picked up after work, watching a tv that didn't really get any stations with the other cooks and waiters... little else. Dave thought it would help us enjoy ourselves more if we had a little more privacy. we were college graduates, after all. so we got a trailer of our own, with our own rooms. actually there was a third inhabitant, who we rarely ever saw, but he made insane coughing and choking noises behind his closed door all night long. Larry had his own knives.
 

It was the only time we lived together. It was very casual. I never thought then how soon it would be before we would start pursuing seperate paths--(though I did get to see a good deal of him in the following years.) Funny how that job not working out in St.Mary would be the end of an era. My blessings to everyone who took it from there.
 

--Convo

The thing about that summer that stands out is my mind is everyone's shaved heads--really EVERYONE! It was hilarious--each Athenian who made there way up north to get a look at one of them glaciers had lost all of there hair. First Convo and David and Brendan, then Andrea, Skip, Spiros and Charisse... Not such a phenomenon if you live the city life or college town but in St Mary, MT when a herd of folks shows up in the same spot without a hair between them people get a little nervous. hee hee hee.
 

--Amy Foster

In some ways i guess i had a very unique (and pleasurable) relationship with Brendan. We started our our sophmore year as friends (in the now infamous house of cheese) and our junior year as boyfriend/girlfriend. And even though I was brendan's first girlfriend (the honor of first kiss goes to Libby) he was my first real and "mature" love. Brendan and I "lived" together for the next four years until 91'. We graduated, I went home and he pretty much stayed in athens (with the occasional trip west). We were still a "couple"...but it was obvious to both of us by fall of 92 that we were going in different directions. We didn't so much as end our relationship, as we let our coupledom dissolve back into just being friends. we still shared our lives with each other...we talked about our new squeeze's (roy and jen), grad school (me), athens/band/etc (brendan), etc.
 

My dad was diagnosed with colon cancer in Oct. 93 and died in the spring of 94. Brendan was there for me (as always) via phone and letters...... Roy, Ken D, Annie and I went to see Nelson's Orchestraville in Morgantown, WV that summer at the Niabingi. (That was the last time I got to see him until this Jan.) That fall came the news of his own diagnosis.... (1994 was a year i wished had never happened). I remember thinking...of all people..why Brendan?...but felt for sure that he would be able to kick its ass........
 

Brendan was an old soul....and there are so few wandering the earth at any given time...i will miss him, but he is ingrained in my own mind/soul in so many different ways...that i feel i will always have him with me. I have learned things from/through Brendan that I would never have discovered about myself and the world. He always made me laugh....and seemed to make any of those silly worries I would be toting around disappear.....
 

I've been remembering a lot lately of just sitting around with Brendan, listening to music while reading and drinking tea. He often favored fruity-tea (blackberry, cranberry stuff) whilst I had chamomile. Also how much he loved to walk....nowhere in particular. On his walks he would usually would meet up with someone, or see something weird...or both... and usually had an interesting story to tell at its "completion".
 

-Weezie

Here's a random memory from the summer i lived with Brendan: I think it was 1989. The house was 139 Grosvenor - soon to become Brendan, Amy, and Spiros house (where Spiro got yelled at by the landlord for painting purple stripes on his bedroom floor.) I moved in while I was looking for a house in the country.
 

Heidi Kellner lived there too - remember her? She did this cool collage art and had a bionic leg. Heidi had been living there for the past year or so and I think she was a little put out that the house was being taken over by someone else. But Brendan and I were real sweet to her, so she didn't mind us too much and would sometimes participate in our weird schemes.
 

None of us had jobs that summer, and MTV just couldn't fill up enough time. (Our favorite bad music video that was "18 and Life" by Skid Row). So the three of us had a contest to see who could go the longest sitting around the house in their underwear. The rules were that you could only leave the house to rent a video or buy ice cream - and then you could only wear one article of clothing other than underwear. I can't remember who won (probably Brendan), but I know it wasn't me. I just wasn't zen enough to cut it during that summer of slack. I think I lost 'cuz after 3 or 4 days of ice cream and MTV, I went to Golganooza. But I'd love to have the chance to try it again.

--Duk

After many late nights either uptown or working at Nelson Snack Bar, I would come home to 102 Mill and fall into bed while Brendan played my old classical guitar perched at the foot of my bed. I think he liked the change of pace that nylon strings offered, and the fact that he could play softly late at night without waking anyone up. He would sing in a soft whisper. Many songs I think he just made up on the spot. For me, I didn't really pay too much attention to what was played. I simply enjoyed hearing him play and sing, which was rare. We shared this moment on many occasions, and I do recall hearing him sing a familiar song (familiar only because they played top-forty songs at Nelson Snack Bar and I knew the words to everyone of them....what else are you gonna do when you're the grill master). I regret never pushing the record button on my tape deck at least once. I am glad though that Brendan played for other audiences of one.
 

--Chris Jones

The thing I remember about Brendan is intensely watching his hands as he played guitar. I wanted to figure out how he seemed to be able to play to anything, any smooshed up wringing sideways chord I through his way. His playing swinged, the rhythms push pulling the criss cross angling of his fingers.. His guitar playing at this time was so linear. But not up and down blocks of scales but rather across, like a boat cutting to the other side of the river. Cutting through the current and using the current to further propel it. It was on the porch across from 100 mill I am hunched over watching very intently. My concepts of scales while I know him, linear in their little blocks, are childish next to Jazz. I'm still not much of a guitar "soloist", but when I do take a solo, a lot of Brendan comes out, though not nearly as good.
 

--skip

Maddie's cutout (which was her character from Dick Tracy) came via SchoolKids.....(I always wanted the Tom Waits cutout.....) she was almost life size. She lived in my apt at 107 mill street with me and Brendan....then traveled and took up residence at N. Lancaster....She scared the hell out of us one night...we forgot she 'existed' and thought it was a real person. I think Brendan gave her to Spiros, don't know where she ended up.....which reminds me of Spiros singing "Express Yourself" to a group of about 100 sorority pledges. He stood on a USA Today 'stand' next to the student union as they were walking toward "sorority row" "Hey girls.....do you believe in love?, etc.etc" spiros yelled out...every one of those pledges stopped and focused all eyes on this strange sight..... truly a moment.
 

i won't even go into the night Spiros wore Plush's pig mask uptown and hung out on the courthouse steps whilst she and i "walked" him on a leash...... I think of all the places in Athens...i saw and did some of the best stuff on the courthouse steps.....
 

One of Brendan's favorite spots was next to the Albion wall. it was a little fire escape with a landing (attached to where the auditorium in the art building was). you could see people walking up and down the Ae stairs, but they couldn't see you. that was the first place Brendan kissed me......and one night we actually got into the auditorium...someone had forgotten to lock the door.
 

The Halloween night of the vienna sausages...Brendan was a post-nuclear cable tv repair an (cable tv hat, with a gas mask) Faye was the color black, Jeanette was Elvira, I was Slush White (snow's sleazy sister), JR III was either Ed or Frank Gears or something like that (Please share your costumes)....but that night JR and Brendan kept doing Japanese movie/Charles Manson Dubs....Brendan did the voice of Charlie "I'm the devil and the devil always shaves his head" behind and to JR's lip sync....it was eerie how much JR could make himself look like Charlie...and how much Brendan sounded like him.
 

The vienna sausages were pitched into the unsuspecting fray by me and Faye. We would yell "Heads up dude" and launch a sausage into the crowd. I still try to find the most disgusting food products at the supermarket when i go shopping. a game that started in athens. JR III had a jar of tamales that he had on his food shelf at 102. He always said "if and when I eat that jar of tamales means that I have absolutely nothing left to eat, and I am broke." it was sort of his barometer of destitution.. I think he dared Brendan to eat it ....and they used to find/dare each other to eat the most disgusting things..........
 

ohh, that reminds me of (one of) the Mike Bushnell stories.....there was something going on at Mem Aud (Timothy Leary maybe?) and Spiros and Brendan were hanging out on the Green waiting till they opened the doors...and Bush walks up and starts talking to them.....all of a sudden, Big Boy grabs his gut and says...."ooohhh...i don't feel so good...I just ate at mcdonald's." some more talking transpires and then Bush starts throwing up...Brendan and Spiro looked at each other and just started running away as fast as possible (a silent-split second desision having been made between them) and Bush is still standing there, throwing up "wait....guys (puke puke), its okay (puke puke), really, (puke puke)." Brendan loved telling that story.......(spiros, feel free to elaborate). It is odd that so many disgusting stories seemed to revolve around Mike Bushnell.... or...maybe not. and on that note......i am off like a prom dress
 

-Weezie

well here's an experience i would have called brendan about: i met artie shaw saturday night at an art opening for a museum in albuquerque. It was hilarious. I was really way "out" on cheap wine and pot and i was bumpin elbows with all these art-chic types who flew into 'barque from all over the world for the opening. i wuz actin semi hoity toity and semi freaky, but mostly just kinda drunken. And somebody came up to me and said "Spiro, have you met Artie yet? You just must..."
 

So i was dragged over to the corner of the room where this old guy with a cane was sitting. I was introduced and artie said "Are you an artist or a wannabee"... my friend answered for me: "a wannabee". I shrugged, thinking that i'm kinda neither..... but whatever. Then he started razzing me about my nose ring asking if i got led around by it. I played around and said "sure". He couldn't understand why i'd want to be led around like his bulls. I told him that it merely relieved the burden of decision and the illusion of free will. anyhow he just shook his head. that was it. then later that same night, as he was saying good bye, i discovered that Artie Shaw is NOT dead. And he just made fun of me. weird huh? if only i had a clarinet in my back pocket...
 

--Spiros