I think the impetus for Knickerbocker Village like blogs is a natural one. You reach a certain age and recognize your mortality. You remember a time when your life was relatively uncomplicated and trouble free and you want to return to it. You also want to bring your parents back to life by remembering those times, because more than likely they've passed on by that point. You never dream that many of the people you grew up with have already died. Yesterday in an attempt to find Glen Farber I used the tactic of searching for a relative's name, one who might have a much less common and easier one to track down. Unfortunately when I spoke to Glen's mother I found out that Glen passed away several years ago at 51. That's Glen above. My friend Marty wrote this after I shared the sad news:
He was very cool. In his iridescent raincoat flipping foul shots in one handed from the key, cigarette dripping from the side of his mouth at 14. Dapper and sarcastic but with a sweetness despite it all. He got kicked off the Corlear's basketball team because he wouldn't take orders from the coach. I said, "Yeah, but didn't you want to be on the team?" He said, "Sure, but nobody tells me what to do. that's all there is to it." And then he flipped the foul shot through the rim soundlessly, not touching anything but air in the middle of the basket. And then a little smirk. Peace to you my brother.