Please jot down a memory of Brian, or a photo with him in it, or just tell us how you were connected.
wrote on March 13, 2023
at
12:08 pm
The sadness of losing Brian:
I don't have a brother, but if I could have picked one, it would have been Brian. I will miss his quirky jokes, particularly the ones that teased me for being a rabid feminist. In case you are wondering, I looked for a synonym for rabid. None work. Rabid is the word Brian would have picked to describe me.
The silence will be hard. No more brilliant political and historical analysis. No more learning geology and earth sciences from Brian.
His commitmentย to his family and friends was without equal. He left behind a wonderful family. And all of you, his family, have Brian withinย you: his caring, his knowledge, commitment, passion, and all the rest. It's quite a legacy.ย
I miss him.ย
And, now a story from SAFECO, where I met Brian in the late 1980's:
We worked on the same programmingย team. SAFECO sent the team to a seminar on how to get along and work as a team. You know, one of those that seems really silly becauseย don't we all try to get along?ย One of the things that was stressed was how to approach a person when you needed them to do something for you. The gist was, don't just barge into their cubical and expect help but take time to butter them up first. Use small talk such as how is the weather or nice job on that last project. After two days of this we couldn't stand it anymore. So we settled on, "I like your socks". I don't remember how we got to this little saying, but we used it all the time. For example, "Brian, I like your socks. I need you to fix this program today, right away, it's a crisis." We didn't mess around with small talk, we just said, "I like your socks".ย Women wore nylons and skirts at this time. We experimented with, "I like your nylons" but that was creepy and did not have the same ring. So, we settled on, "I like your socks." I wonder what others on the team thought of us?
I don't have a brother, but if I could have picked one, it would have been Brian. I will miss his quirky jokes, particularly the ones that teased me for being a rabid feminist. In case you are wondering, I looked for a synonym for rabid. None work. Rabid is the word Brian would have picked to describe me.
The silence will be hard. No more brilliant political and historical analysis. No more learning geology and earth sciences from Brian.
His commitmentย to his family and friends was without equal. He left behind a wonderful family. And all of you, his family, have Brian withinย you: his caring, his knowledge, commitment, passion, and all the rest. It's quite a legacy.ย
I miss him.ย
And, now a story from SAFECO, where I met Brian in the late 1980's:
We worked on the same programmingย team. SAFECO sent the team to a seminar on how to get along and work as a team. You know, one of those that seems really silly becauseย don't we all try to get along?ย One of the things that was stressed was how to approach a person when you needed them to do something for you. The gist was, don't just barge into their cubical and expect help but take time to butter them up first. Use small talk such as how is the weather or nice job on that last project. After two days of this we couldn't stand it anymore. So we settled on, "I like your socks". I don't remember how we got to this little saying, but we used it all the time. For example, "Brian, I like your socks. I need you to fix this program today, right away, it's a crisis." We didn't mess around with small talk, we just said, "I like your socks".ย Women wore nylons and skirts at this time. We experimented with, "I like your nylons" but that was creepy and did not have the same ring. So, we settled on, "I like your socks." I wonder what others on the team thought of us?
Admin Reply by: Evan
Thank you so much for sharing, Susan! I like that story and your socks.