Ivan

My friend Ivan passed away last week, and I've been spending a lot of time thinking about him, his wife Vanina, and their soon-to-be-born child. His passing is a mind-blowing event for me, and for for our wide network of mutual friends and family.

Ivan was a powerful force. A whirlwind of risk, excitement, and joy. He pushed us to live a full life - not of reflection and sober calculation, but of action and experiences. He crashed every vehicle other than (strangely) a car, broke many of his bones, and left a good portion of his skin on pavements around Northern California.

When I first heard the awful news, I pictured him pulling an e-brake stand into the Chunnel, or bungie-jumping off London Tower into a fishtank full of pihranas. The reality turned out to be much more mundane and random. It seems unfair, but we all know that it would have been hard to forgive such acts of stupidity these days.

Ivan was an instant friend to everyone he met. He spoke French like a cool punk from Marseille, and ate like a man possesed. From chicken feet to charcuterie, he was the Finisher, and he will never be replaced.

So, to Ivan. The coolest kid (sorry, Mina) ever to come out of Popper Kaiser. My friend, roommate, and co-conspirator. I love you.

Flickr group for Ivan
James Wilcox, on Ivan