I was beyond lucky to know him. It would be a hell of a stretch to call us friends, but in the 20 years since we first met - in the hallowed halls of our high school (or possibly in the living room of his friend G’s house, where I babysat) - I went from slightly intimidated (contrary to popular belief, he didn’t ALWAYS look like that, but he’d certainly started on his path from looking like a conventional suburban high schooler to the man he was as of Sunday) very quickly to awed by his personality, even in the early-mid 90s. And whether we were running into each other at the club or at the Giant, he was always astonishingly nice. A light. And one you’d never think would be put out.
Happy birthday, Josh. I hope you can see everything.