In memoriam

Yesterday morning I went online to get the address of the recording studio I had to go to from my email. There was a message from the New England Conservatory Alumni Association mourning "the loss of Andrew Starr Kyte." Andy Kyte and I were at NEC at the same time. We were friends, but more like we had good mutual friends. We never were close. When you lose someone you didn't know very well and all of a sudden find yourself really missing them... the temptation to poetics and melodrama is big. I always liked him, always found him interesting and smart and funny. The thing is, though, I think I always worried about Andy, even though I never got the story from him about what he was going through. He loved a lot of things and involved himself in them, but he also had something distant about him. He could be like a lamb in wolf's clothing- scathing, funny, sarcastic, but there was a quietness, a kindness in the way he listened. For my graduation recital I got an orchestra together to play Hindemith's "Der Schwanendreher" a viola concerto. I asked Andy to play first horn, and he also got together most of the rest of the brass. True to form, the brass players all had the best time in rehearsals, joking about everything, laughing at the back of the orchestra. I remember having some issues with the conductor, who had very different ideas about the piece than I did, and often times Andy would speak out in my defense, in his own way, like "Dude, it's her recital!"
I don't know. this is all very random and stream of consciousness, I know, and I feel like I almost don't have a right to speak about him since we weren't close. Like, what do I know, what did I ever do for him? I guess this is that feeling you get when you lose your chance to get to know someone better. And I'm also feeling so much for my friends who I DO know well, who did know him well, and are now mourning and feeling the loss so acutely.
Meanwhile, there's all this going on here. I feel even less of a right to speak about it. It's shown me what a tenuous connection I have to this country. I feel more shame about this war going on than anything. I understand the necessity of defense, of attack even. But why so much death?
Some people Christopher and I have talked to have said they didn't continue to go to the reserves because they knew they wouldn't be put into combat units. Like the only reason to be part of the Army is to kill people. From a different generation of ISraelis you hear about how their friends from the Army are their friends for life, how it's a necessary part of being an Israeli. I've heard this quote from someone: "If the Arabs put down their guns there would be no more war. If the Israelis put down their guns there would be no more ISrael" HAve I put that up here before? I used to believe it, but now I don't know. I feel like the guns could bring about the end of this country much faster than diplomacy would.
Meanwhile Christopher and I have fun as much as we can. We play frisbee, basketball and chess, go rock climbing, and read books to each other. We paint, and I've been doing origami again. Right now The Goonies is on in the other room. I'm going to go watch it and try to just enjoy the day, try to resist the constant urge to put on the news as much as possible.