Thank you Dave, for this and many other things.
I first met Scott in English class when we were freshmen at East High School. He was smart, really really smart.
The trick was that he was witty and outgoing and cool on top of being smart.
Scott wore black and white wingtipped shoes to school because "he" thought they were cool,
nevermind what anyone else thought. That was Scott– he decided what he wanted to do
and went after it will all his guts. The same could be said for his music, skating, schoolage, and girls.
Later, at University, Scott pointed out the best looking girl on campus (and she was at the time), and told me he would marry her (we had only met her a few hours earlier). Sure enough, six months later, Scott married her.
Scott saved my soul on more than one occasion. he showed me there is meaning in life–
the meaning is living itself. Scott made me watch “The Razor’s Edge” at least twice, until I got it.
Life is life– not to be squandered.
In this movie, two characters sit in a foxhole in WWI, lamenting the loss of their close friend,
who only moments before jumped on top of a grenade to save their lives.
In some odd ritual, they listed out the vices of their dead friend, and– through their tears–
tell each other that he will not be missed.
Scott lost a battle to cancer last month. He was 38.
He likely lived more in those 38 years than many many of us could even hope to do in an entire lifetime.
Scott was brash, smart, quick, and charming. he could cut quick with a comment,
but follow up with a trusting support that let others knew he would back them no matter what.
Scott was one of my oldest and closest friends.
He will be missed.