Yesterday I received word that a friend of mine named Pat passed away. He’d been struggling with health issues for a while but the announcement still came as a shock. The last time I saw him was at my birthday party in April, and although he’d had some problems before then he was in good spirits. In August he announced that he was undergoing a medical procedure and we texted briefly about it, but afterwards I never heard from him. I guess I just assumed that someone as strong and positive as Pat would just come out of the experience feeling as good as new, and I’d just bump into him at another party, or he’d invite me over to play poker, and our friendship would carry on as if nothing had happened. In all honesty I never expected this to happen.
Los Angeles can be a cruel place to socialize and build friendships. Maybe I’m just particularly thin-skinned but it seems like there’s a layer of superficiality hanging over this city. When I introduced myself to Pat at a party that was being thrown by my friend Thesy I didn’t anticipate anything beyond my being very drunk and telling my girlfriend at the time, “Look at that guy over there! He looks so out of place here! I’m going to make him my best friend right now.” So I walked over and introduced myself.
I swear to God, even though I was drunk and only half paying attention to what Pat was saying, there was more genuine kindness, warmth and good nature than I think I knew what to do with at the time. He told me a story about the time he met Bill Clinton, and when he was done I told him to hold on while I grabbed my girlfriend and some other people from the party to come over and chat with Pat. After our conversation ended we went our separate ways but whenever I saw him while moving from the kitchen to the porch to the bathroom to the downstairs area I would shout his name and wave as if we were old buddies. I was drunk. I was just having fun. I figured we’d never see each other again.
Over the years we’d interact at countless house parties. We exchanged numbers and would meet for lunch (Islands in Burbank…not exactly the most chi chi place to dine but mostly we talked about writing, career goals and life). I’d invite him to every house party and birthday party I held, and was always genuinely shocked — and heartened — when he’d arrive, usually with a bottle of Crown Royal and a big hug. Again, when you hung around Pat you never once got the impression he was just going through the paces. He treated every conversation as if it was the most important one in the room, and exuded a level of compassion, generosity and courtesy I rarely see from others. He was one of the most authentic people I’ve met in my seven years in LA. The mark he left is indelible. He will be missed. He already is missed.
Sunday Mix Tape Number 371
01. Darkel – Be My Friend
02. Grandaddy – First Movement/Message Fade
03. Ween – The Mollusk
04. Watter – Bloody Monday
05. Steve Earle – Meet Me In The Alleyway
06. A Winged Victory For The Sullen – Atomos II
07. The Makers – Don’t Challenge Me
08. Dr. Strangely Strange – Sign On My Mind
09. Ben – Christmas Execution
10. Arnaud Fournier – Morning Amazement
11. Scott Walker & Sunn O))) – Lullaby
12. Inventions – Psychic Automation
13. Mono – Katana
