I got a call today that I'm still really upset about and will be for a while to come. Friday night my good friend Barry Goslin died in his sleep, apparently from some crazy combination of illness and prescribed kodine cough syrup. My mind is rolling in my skull right now and I feel the need to put some words together in his honor. If you knew the man personally, you'll truly understand everything I'm about to write.

I'll begin by saying he was way too young. Anyone that is close to you that passes is de facto 'way too young', but in Barry's case this is especially true. The man worked full time as a mannager at Acme, recently graduated from West Chester University, taught guitar lessons at a local music store, and was also a member of the Navy band. Believe it or not he mannaged a social life on top of this. He had more drive in his right earlobe than alot of the people I know. He was never afraid to shove this fact in your face either, but it was always hinted with a kindly twist.

Barry in essence was kindly, I never saw him truly mad. Not to say he wasn't pissed of about alot of things in our society and lifestyles, which he was. But when he did rage about things, it was always in a playful manner, even though an innocent bystander might shit themselves if they hadn't heard Barry go off the hinges before. But overall he was an even-keel, extremely grounded guy.

He was also one of the best musicians that I've ever met. From guitar, to bass, to keyboard, even to drums (I had to kick him off my kit a couple times, but it was more because I wanted a chance to play again rather than his lack of skill). His true passion in life was his music, and for every ounce of effort he put into everything else, a kilo went into his guitar. Melodies were in his blood, he constantly had a beat in his head. It tears my fucking heart out knowing that his potential in this spectrum won't ever be fully realized. This star went nova long before it's light could grace our planet, and I'm both pissed and heartbroken. In the same token, I'm also glad that I got to sit in on the few sessions we had together, I'll never forget them.

I started reading a book on friday night which I havn't read since my father died. It's been a huge influence in my life, and I believe it holds as much or more essential truth than most gospels. One quote out of it comes to mind at the moment :

"Give the future enough thought to be ready for it-but don't worry about it. Live each day as if you were to die next sunrise. Then face each sunrise as a fresh creation and live for it, joyously."

Alot of people will flaunt the "live each day as if it were your last" lifestyle like it is something to be proud of. Most of these people are self-loathing fools that milk each day dry and then move on to the next with no thought of past or future. There are a few out there than can take this loaded motto and make something out of it, and Barry did just that. He lived every day to the fullest, but usually with intent of accomplishing a larger goal. He gave the future enough thought to be ready for it, and then some. He had just graduated from college and was ready to face that future, when it was all taken away from him. Whatever divine force is out there that had a hand in this one, just know that your now on my shitlist, and your gunna have to answer to me one of these days. It won't be pretty.

But in the traditional Irish way, we must celebrate the lives of those lost. So as I sit here and sip on a glass of Irish Mist on the rocks, I propose a toast to the life of Barry Goslin. He attempted to live more in his few years than most do in a natural lifetime, and he did so in an overwhelmingly positive way. He had fingers like Jimmy Hendrix, a temper like a bear, and above all a heart of gold. I'm really gunna miss that silly bastard.

His viewing will be held 10am-noon in West Chester at 410 North Church Rd. on Wednesday January 18th.