When I lived in Landis my freshman year at FSU, Kirk was just a couple doors down and across the hall. We didn't get to know each other immediately; I tend to be introverted and nervous about meeting new people. Our first conversation was after this 3-East group activity where everyone wrote their favorite quote on some butcher paper hanging up near the bathrooms. I don't remember what my quote was (something by Tom Waits probably), but when I was done I turned around and Kirk was kind of peering at the board over the crowd, nodding at my choice. In retrospect, that was probably the perfect way for him to scope out unfamiliar people.
Landis has these great wide hallways that were conducive to social activity. I shared a room with a high school friend, Jonathan, and straight across the hall were Paul and Beavis, who were both from Pace. The unwritten rule was "leave your door open if you want to hang out," and Kirk would often be roaming the floor — if only to get away from his obnoxious, flatulent roommate whose name to this day I know only as "Poot."
I started joining in on some of the stuff Kirk, Paul and Beavis were doing: watching movies on the fifth floor, going down to the student union for shows, making midnight Walmart runs, etc. It became obvious that Kirk had this amazingly voluminous knowledge of film, and his enthusiasm was infectious. He reminded me of stuff I hadn't seen in years, reaffirmed my love for geeky classics, and introduced me to terrific indie and foreign fare. Around this time I started my DVD collection, and we'd go out and buy stuff to enjoy in widescreen: Dead Alive, Six-String Samurai, lots of Criterion titles. Kirk introduced me to the practice of making up lyrics for movie scores (e.g. Jurassic Park, RoboCop, plenty of others) and passed along such wonderful tidbits of movie knowledge, like which three 80s movies used "Send Me An Angel" in a montage. (Answer: RAD, The Wizard, and Teenwolf Too.)
When I started at FSU I had no idea what I was going to do after school. Within a year I knew: I wanna make movies with this guy.
Part 2: Film Aspirations
We both applied to the FSU film school, along with Morgan. The three of us logged some time volunteering on "filmmaker in residence" Andy Ruben's shitty vampire movie shoot, hoping he would remember us when selecting from the applicants. Morgan got accepted; Kirk and I did not.
So we kept plugging away at our respective majors, both of which were lame enough to allow for plenty of elective credits, and for a while it seemed like most of our classes were together: Japanese, Japanese calligraphy, (Hanging With) Dr. Cooper's film class, viola da gamba lessons. Afterwards we'd either walk back to Gilchrist or to my place at The Atrium to play videogames and watch TV. ("You kill-a da monkey, why did you kill-a da monkey?") Good times.
(Oh. One time, we were walking home from viola da gamba practice, and I told him that Boo and I had started dating. He said something like, "Hmm, yes, I approve," and made a little stamping motion with his hands. The rest is history.)
Even though I didn't get a degree in film, I always kind of figured that we would make it happen anyway. That somewhere down the line, if we kept writing and collecting equipment, we would eventually have the means to make the movies we always talked about, and all of us would get together and just do it. Now I'm at a point where that's almost feasible, but for what?
Part 3: In Absentia
When I was living in Japan, I still talked to Kirk via instant message whenever I had Internet access in the school's computer lab. We talked a lot about the movies that were coming out at the time. (I defended the Matrix sequels for a while, but after many in-depth conversations, I finally conceded.) Then I came back to Pensacola, got a job, and got murried. Every time I heard about a local job opening in video production (or anything really) I would try to convince him to move over here. But to no avail!
I didn't see Kirk too much after the Attack of the Cancer and our initial visit to the hospital. Like, we talked a ton via instant message, but there weren't many in-person visits. (For this reason, my Matrix residual mental image of him still has a full head of mini-dreads.) Also, I guess I dropped off the whole LiveJournal/MySpace/whatever scene, so I didn't keep up with his goings-on as well as I ought've.
Even though there was a lot going on in my own life at the time (kids, work, house, etc.) this will probably be a source of guilt for some time to come, Schindler-style. "I could have done more! I could have hung out more!" It is some consolation that he had plenty of friends and loved ones wherever he went. I just hope he realized how very much he meant to us all.
Part 4: Remembrance
Kirk was the best! Around! And nothing ever seemed to keep him down. The man had the good humor of a hundred ice cream men and the vitality of a hundred ninjas. Maybe that's why I never really suspected that the cancer might actually win, even though Kirk was beating the odds every single day.
We can just go ahead and retire the phrase, "it couldn't have happened to a nicer person," because it already did. The fact that the universe took Kirk over any of the rest of us chumps makes me want to punch it right in its stupid infinite face. It's not right; it's not fair! In the annals of ontology, in the volume about "why bad things happen to good people," there's bound to be a whole chapter on our boy Kirk.
Assorted things I miss, remember, and hope never to forget, about Kirk:
- The "Jooooey!" squeal.
- Zombie neck bite greetings, and awkwardly long goodbye hugs.
- Various & sundry gesticulations, and their accompanying sound effects.
- His poetry. (Coffee table book. Let's make it happen!)
- His writing style. Specifically, capitalization-as-emphasis.
- Spring Break 2001, Pensacola edition: When he found that out-of-print 400 Blows Criterion edition for cheap in the used CD store.
- Spring Break 2002, Atlanta edition: "Who? Who let 'em out?"
- How he feared the hungry hungry hobos on Pensacola Street would eat him if he walked from The Atrium to Tuscany Village.
- The fact that, within a week of introducing my friends to Kirk, they would like him more than me. Kinda frustrating for me personally, but come on.
If I had a time machine, I would gladly go back and change things for Kirk -- paradoxes be damned. If I had some of Herbert West's re-agent, I would totally use it on Kirk -- even though I know better.
Kirk, remember: never say never at heaven's elevator door.
The rest of us, remember: be excellent to each other.
I raise a milkshake and a hearty bowl of sugary cereal to you, brother. Peace out. Peace out forever.
— Joe "Joey" ("Joe Joe") "Shabadoo" Vinson
No comments:
Post a Comment