I knew him. Shit, everyone knew him. Never knew him well. Always looked up to him, always questioned why. It seemed like he was taking a risky shortcut. He had the cards to play the straight game and play it well. But he opted to run his business out of the trunk of a car, in a back alley, with a cell phone and a beeper. He was out in the open. He was visible, super visible. I am sure that high school kids all over the suburbs said to each other...if you need a bag head to Dupont Circle and look for the guy on a bicycle with an orange cycling helmet with a a large feather on top.
What was a prop for a New Year's Eve party became his signature.
What was a few dollars on the side became his main gig.
What was his future became his end....or so it seemed.
Last I heard he had MS.
I wish him well. Hope that he alive, healthy and living the life he chooses.
The image of him arriving at a Mount Pleasant group house party with his old school oakley shades and his roller blades is fresh in my eyes. It is hard to see that anything could slow this guy down or tear the smile from his face. Not the law...not MS.....I pray that nothing can break his spirit. For some reason I feel that he is alive and well on a beach somewhere dipping into a secret next egg that no one could find.
Sometimes I feel guilty for how good my life is...other times I take it all for granted.

Mt Pleasant and Featherhead

I knew him from house parties and working on the bike