Eulogy for Friend :: Eulogies Eulogy

acclamation for geniusYesterday, as Martins friends poured into town, I was infatuated by how many distinct sets of friends he had. Family, skaters, punks, his Swampland posse, his boys and his girls, Professors, colleagues, Ann Arbor friends, wampum friends, cyberspace friends whod never met him in the physical body... Trying to walk take down the street with him was an exercise in frustration, as Martins fans flocked to him like the Pied Piper. He was so much, to so many. One of his superior gifts to us is each other. I remember the first time I saw Marty 12 years ago. You couldnt miss him, of course. It was Computer Science 101, a lecture hall with hundreds of students. He would skate into class 20 legal proceeding late, flip his skateboard up onto his desk, crack open a coffee tree milk and begin to drink... two hundred eyes on him. Martin would turn more or less and give us a little wave. The thing was, and it *clearly* pee-pee off the Professors, he routinely score d the highest marks in the class on every assignment. Immediately I said to myself, I need to love this guy... So I control him and announced, You and I are going to be friends... Martin looked me up and down and said, Uh....No thanks... And so it began. Martin, in those days especially, had an approach to spate that was at high hat thought-provoking, & at worst confrontational. Those who didnt get Martin brushed him off as a clown, but to those who watched, and listened, it was clear there was something super profound going on. Martin had an supernatural ability to see into people, to look done you, to reflect your own insecurities and hangups backbone at you, until you had no choice go forth but to drop them... and trip the light fantastic toe with him. Martin called your bluff every time... Despite his best efforts to the contrary, eventually we did become friends. I simply refused to let him go, or to let him push me away... I knew in my core that if being Martins fr iend need change, well then Id change. He was worth it... Martin was a hacker in the true MIT tradition. As a teenager, and Marty didnt often brag about this, he reengineered some communication bundle into what became the de facto standard for software pirates around the world. In those days he was cognize by his handle, the Redheaded Freak.Eulogy for Friend Eulogies EulogyEulogy for FriendYesterday, as Martins friends poured into town, I was struck by how many distinct sets of friends he had. Family, skaters, punks, his Swampland posse, his boys and his girls, Professors, colleagues, Ann Arbor friends, Chicago friends, cyberspace friends whod never met him in the flesh... Trying to walk down the street with him was an exercise in frustration, as Martins fans flocked to him like the Pied Piper. He was so much, to so many. One of his greatest gifts to us is each other. I remember the first time I saw Marty 12 years ago. You couldnt miss him, of course. It was Computer Science 1 01, a lecture hall with hundreds of students. He would skate into class 20 minutes late, flip his skateboard up onto his desk, crack open a chocolate milk and begin to drink... 200 eyes on him. Martin would turn around and give us a little wave. The thing was, and it *clearly* pissed off the Professors, he routinely scored the highest marks in the class on every assignment. Immediately I said to myself, I need to know this guy... So I cornered him and announced, You and I are going to be friends... Martin looked me up and down and said, Uh....No thanks... And so it began. Martin, in those days especially, had an approach to people that was at best challenging, & at worst confrontational. Those who didnt get Martin brushed him off as a clown, but to those who watched, and listened, it was clear there was something extremely profound going on. Martin had an uncanny ability to see into people, to look through you, to reflect your own insecurities and hangups back at you, until you had no choice left but to drop them... and dance with him. Martin called your bluff every time... Despite his best efforts to the contrary, eventually we did become friends. I simply refused to let him go, or to let him push me away... I knew in my core that if being Martins friend required change, well then Id change. He was worth it... Martin was a hacker in the true MIT tradition. As a teenager, and Marty didnt often brag about this, he reengineered some communication software into what became the de facto standard for software pirates around the world. In those days he was known by his handle, the Redheaded Freak.