I have worked at a southern California music venue called chain reaction for the last 5 or so years full time, and filled in days in the early 2000's. When I quit touring it was the first place I flocked to wanting to be around music. I met Christian many years ago and with us both being from San Diego it was our connection. So before I lay into this let me give you a quick rundown in simplest form of my interpretation of Christian. He was the definition of cool, 1 part classic, 2 parts original, and definitely an individual. From his pegged dickies, past blue ribbon trucker hat, hilarious tattoos ( virgin mary playing flying v guitar), classic cars, and musical knowledge he oozed awesome. He was opinionated, loud about it, and most importantly, real. When you spend almost everyday with someone in a work environment of just hanging out you not only grow close, but pick up habits. I learned to throw caution to the wind and just be as is, live in the moment, and care less about what's going to happen and more about being. I miss that and I miss him. Let's get back to the matter at hand, fast forward a few years and all the good times I had now been pulling double duty working two jobs at merch connection in the day and chain by night, a slave to the grind. It was a typical night at chain reaction, shit talking, horrible bands, and a food run. It was my night to go so teriyaki bowls it was, Christian had his daughters there so I bought them dinner.
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Memorial Crash site |
I don't know all the details about the motorcycle accident which took my friends life, it doesn't really matter. All I know is my friend ran into a car pulling out of a gas station which completely crushed him. I don't know If he was in pain, or if angels guided him into some light, or if his life flashed before his eyes, If he thought about god, his kids, his loves, I don't know what a man thinks about during death. I hope he wasn't in pain, but it's all so tragic I don't think about it. This is the thing we call life, this is the rationality of death. Every move made his whole life brought him to this moment and this is the outcome, wrong place wrong time. I've come to the conclusion that the saddest part of his death was the aftermath. Christian was a punk rock guy through and through a skateboarder, musician, sang in a ska band unsteady, tour managed the aqua bats, did sound for countless bands, and carried the ideals into every aspect of his life. He would bring me countless things into work sweet horror posters, records, his sound book, anything and everything because he was about living not objects. It's true what they say "everyone loves you when you're dead". People came out of the woodworks to take over benefit shows, and memorials. There were two memorial shows which raised money for his children and unborn child. I personally didn't feel the full effect of the shows, it was a lot of faces Christian was very vocal about disliking, it was a shit show. From the press, to the money discrepancies, to the show in general. My closure was with my friends and his. From the staff painting a memorial day and night, to the shirts, and genuine spark of life instilled in the grieving. Seeing friends fall apart then laugh was touching and brought the staff of chain reaction closer than ever. I think we did pretty well, while family feuding and the fight over a dead mans possessions ensued we kept it together. We remained as a unit. We were his second family.He would have been proud, we did good.
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Memorial show |
I could write for days, calling people out on how they acted. Everyone fought for attention, who was a better friend, or closer, striving for acceptance through the loss of a friend, but not only would it be shameful in the sense of who am I to say how someone feels but also it would take away from the matter at hand. The remembrance and legacy of one man. Like I said who wants the happy ending of a tragic story first? I'll just end it like this, though many people had opinions about you, I thought you did this life thing very well, while some saw an outspoken asshole, I saw the light shining through the crack, you told it how it was. You might have been a heartbreaker but I saw it as a man who's heart had been broke and made hard, I know it was healing in the end. I saw you in your prime, as a father, that was your calling. I'm sorry i broke your ramp when we were wallriding at the school by your house, at least you landed one. Thanks for having me around your kids, I'll miss swap meet record shopping with you guys. Thanks for showing me sound when you told hundreds of others to beat it ( even when you'd leave me with big bands, when I had no idea what to do), Your worldly advice and keen outlook was much appreciated when you'd hang late after hours and give me advice, Thanks for always introducing me as your friend, Harbor house hang's, hooking me up with the sound gig at the U.S. open, talking and appreciating stiff records with me, and the most Important thing is just being all our friends giving us a glance into your take on being alive. We all love you dearly, I swear I'm like a walking r&b song because every little thing reminds me of you. I'm glad you not only left us the parting gift of wisdom and a true spirit but this little bundle of joy. We'll all be
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Your new little girl, and the last piece of you |

R.I.P. Mitch