Last time I saw Steve Tristano, and Scott Huntsman

Last time I saw Steve Tristano was at the old Forest Knolls train depot (now a bus stop) in the 1970s, it was their hang-out. Scott Huntsman, Johnny Kaufman, Mike Frank and Steve were the four muscateers. Thicker than thieves. I learned that Mike had died a while back, but I didn't know about the heart attack. At the age of 42, that seems harsh. What does one know about life at 42? I know Scott Weaver died about the same time. I assume it was drugs. It was his flat horizon line. Neal, and David Weaver, long gone. An with their passing, something of our youth died too. Only Kent survived. I was surprised that Johnny Kaufman made it into the 1980s and beyond...another classmate I thought was long gone—drugs required their mordida.

What I remember about Scott Huntsman, was that despite his silver tooth, he smiled a lot. (How did he lose his tooth?) He was steadfast and kind (though there were a lot of bullies at Lagunitas School in the 1950s). He was very self-conscious, sometimes awkward within his body, he never knew how we envied his thick mane of long black hair. Probably the only thing that saved him was the hippie movement, he could move into becoming who he was, without reserve, without judgement. He became one of the cool ones. Generous with his time. I lost track of him after high school. (As I did with most of my classmates).

When the Gundlach-Bundschu winery burned down during the fires, Phil Bundschu's name came up. I remember a poetry reading we did there sitting on hay bales, on a bluff, overlooking the vineyards, reading to the westering sun, in late fall, and incongruously, Phil, crippled by polio, was there, all golden, on his winged motorcycle. A blast from the past.

Last time I saw Johnny Kaufman, he was sitting on the ground in front of the old bus stop in—I guess he was still strung out. Like Jimmy Bohman. Morphos never let go her grip. But Steve Tristano, I was just writing a music review of his father, Lennie Tristano's album on the indie music site, AmieStreet. Steve's half-bro, Guy, saw it and we corresponded for a while. He sent me a photo of Steve. He said Steve got clean, moved to Oregon, still played a little guitar. I was so glad to hear of it. I always liked Steve, the boogie woogie man of my childhood. But then, I heard he died in 2015. I never got a chance to say hello in there. How's it goin'? Didn't see much of them at Drake High School. but then, we were all playing hooky one way or another. And now, I heard Scott Huntsman has joined the heavenly bus stop choir. All aboard!