Scott

In high school, I listened to "classic rock" & rolled my eyes at people who thought Pink Floyd was a person. I was downtown every weekend listening to local bands (who out there remembers Jemani, The Big Mighty, or Daze of Haze?) with everyone, painting on the wall at Mount Helicon (before they turned it into some soap shop), & laughing at the sky line on top of parking garages. There was this kid named Steve who went to Davidson who lived in an old victorian house right at the end of Calhoun Expressway & we'd all gather on his balcony late at night counting cars or we'd sneek into the abandoned gymnasium behind Ronald McDonald House & climb the rotting steps to the basketball court; playing music that would echo off the high ceilings & our casted shadows would grow longer as the street lamps turned on outside the floor to ceiling windows. That was also when I started taking photographs: instant Polaroids, b&w grainy film, & eventually digital (all of them have ended up in scrapbooks or shoe boxes; a testament to what I have been warned will be the best times of my life)


While I was busy trying to figure out who I was supposed to be, all those events were busy making me who I was.
We graduated high school & spent hours at Waffle House drinking coffee (to the point they knew us by name & would have a cup with 2 creamers a piece waiting for each of us at the same booth every time). We always played Van Morrison, Jack Johnson, & Def Leppard on the jukebox. We wrote Top 10 lists (bands/album covers/movies) on napkins & pondered the lyrics to Scar Tissue (was it a lonely or lovely view?). We'd drive over the dam to Hippie's Cove & play music on MONK rock. We went to see Jet in concert at The House of Blues. I remember Scott always wanted to find Lucky Strike cigarettes because we'd read that James Dean smoked them. We'd all congregate in Scott's living room late at night & speak in run on sentences laughing/singing/planning. We even killed a opossum in his kitchen one strange night.








All of these things happened during & immediately after high school with my family of friends. Scott Reese was a part of that family & was a part of all those events. One of my favorite things Scott ever said was: "Sometimes life just happens." Most of us have grown apart/lost touch over the past 7 years because life just happens.
As columnist Mary Schmich said: "Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young."

Remembering all these things, telling these stories --- it is the proof I need that he existed. It's how I'll make sure he continues to exist. I didn't really know Scott the last few years of his life, but I know how I want to remember him. I think everyone who knew him will hold on to their own "version" of Scott.


A mix tape is serious stuff - Scott knew that. That's why I think the most important thing I can do is put together a mix tape (High Fidelity style) to remember him by:

AC/DC - Back in Black
Stones - Sympathy for the Devil
Modest Mouse - Float On
RHCP - Scar Tissue
Led - Rock & Roll
Skynyrd - Sweet Home Alabama
RATM - Renegades of Funk
Sublime - What I Got
Jack Johnson - Times Like These
Hendrix - Foxy Lady
Jet - Get Me Outta Here
Joe Cocker - Feelin' Alright
Pearl Jam (Unplugged cover) - Sittin' On the Dock of the Bay
Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out
Foo Fighters - My Hero
Black Keys - Heavy Soul
Doors - Roadhouse Blues
Foo Fighters - Statues
Floyd - Wish You Were Here


This weekend I will not mourn; I will celebrate Scott's life. Rest in peace, babe.