The Rebirth of a Friend

                                                                                                                                                                                        (photo circa 2003)

                  Trent was killed. People that ran to the scene of the accident were with him in his last moments on the side of the road by the upended truck and the bloody bike tire that the news story displayed. The dust and the chaos of his random and violent death has only begun to settle, giving way to the raw, gritty feelings that come with losing an old friend. I can’t pretend that we were really close at the time of his death. But there were many people that were, and this really became evident as the days moved on. Seeing his mother on the internet begging Trent to call home and let her know that he was ok, because she had seen a news story about a bicyclist wrenches the very seat of my soul. I could not imagine that feeling. I am not attempting to dig this back up, because many have found peace through this whole experience, but my purpose in writing this is to find peace myself and reflect on some humorous unimportant moments in Trent and I’s life. Many people that have not seen each other for years sat down together and broke bread, shared a pint, made plans to hang out because Trent, even in passing, brought us back together. That is beautiful.

                  Trent joined the band awhile after me. I had been driving up by myself to band practices in Seattle and when it came time for a new bass player, it just made sense to ask Trent. He lived at the 1227 house. Our band and a number of others were part of a little scene of bands and friends that had spawned out of that house. Trent had been friends with many of those folks for years before that, but that house brought many different groups of people together and we all revolved around it. I used to drive an 87' Volkswagen Fox. This would have been close to nine years ago now. Trent and I used to drive this tiny little car to band practice in Seattle every week. Trent would always make a mix cd for the ride up. For all of us that played music with Trent or knew him through the band… we all might have thought we were into some extreme stuff, like really obscure underground out there music, but Trent just lived to go beyond that and we were constantly being reminded of this. He would make these mix cds of the most cerebral, mathematical, psychedelic music you could find. It was always interesting driving to practice. He would talk these bands up so intensely and just wait to see my reaction to some crazy part of the music and laugh out loud when my brain exploded.

                  I remember we were coming out of the practice space one time and him being like "dude, somebody broke into your car." Sure enough. They had smashed out the front window so we had to clean it up and tape the window closed to get home. The worst part is we had been on this big Rush kick. All my Rush cd's had been in the front seat and they all got stolen. Bust!

                  Our band did one tour. We went all through California and Nevada. I remember driving through Death Valley in this miserable July summer heat. Our guitar player Chris was a complete freak and was driving like a mad man through the canyons of tumbleweed and sand. For some reason he was naked and decided to inform us all that he was going to masturbate right then and there. Our tour van wasn't a passenger van. It was a large conversion van with a tall roof and we had removed the seats so you could walk around and stand up straight. Timm and I were trying to vibe him out since he was naked and masturbating in front of us. So naturally, we got naked and started dancing for him and squirting sun screen on his crotch from behind saying "yeah daddy you like that". This would be quite the spectacle to anyone driving by our van. Trent… the entire time was sitting in the passenger seat reading Get In The Van by Henry Rollins and I swear to you he did not even flinch or acknowledge that any of this was going on.

                  On that tour the band was getting in some heated post apocalyptic discussion about some future world after society crumbles or whatever we usually argued about and Trent got so worked up and intense that mid sentence he just laid down in the door well of the van and pooped his pants. It was the funniest and weirdest thing. If I recall he just wiped up and threw his underwear out on the freeway during rush hour traffic.

                  Our band had a song that to this day is referred to as "Trent's song". He composed and constructed it himself and it was very perplexing to learn. It is probably the best song our band ever created. Trent defied convention in everything he did. He was drawn to people, places, musicians, substances, and perspectives that did the same. What we perceive to be reality, he refused to believe that it was the only perception of it. His music exemplified this. What he played and wrote on his bass made no sense to any of us. It defied the constructs of cords and scales. Trent had to challenge himself and everybody else to play, see or do something different. This is what I will take from Trent. I don't know if his mind was initially set free by his obsession with fantasy novels and this led to everything else he put his time and energy into, but Trent wouldn't look for face value. He would turn face value upside down and see it completely different. He was off somewhere else in his imagination. Also I really have to make mention, that for all the mind bending intelligent music he listened to and created, he really and completely, enjoyed the emotive pop punk band Saves The Day. There was no appropriate way to work this in but I needed to mention it because it serves to only confuse my memories of Trent further.

                  Trent went at everything deliberately and intently, well the things he wanted to do anyways :) Trent made beer for my band's album release party. He bottled it and we sold it out of the van. It was made with coca leaves as in COCAINE LEAVES! It tasted like a porter made out of lavender and gun powder! But the fact that he would invest weeks into creating and preparing something to support his friends really shows how driven he was when he found his motivation. I still have a few bottles somewhere. Trent won awards in Tacoma for his beers. I would have loved to see him take this further.

                  It was foreign to hear some of his new friends and co-workers talk at the memorial service about how he had impacted their lives because when he left Tacoma he had hit a dead end. Trent left hard feelings and hard times in Tacoma. Bad break ups and friendships turned to resentment. A lot of people have to live with this; that they weren't able to mend these kinds of things in the months after he moved to Everett. And while that is a hard thing to swallow I want to offer some perspectives I have on Trent's life after leaving Tacoma.

                  I only got to watch Trent's life from a distance during his last ten months. Through the things he typed on the internet and the pictures he posted. The life he was living in those ten months was a part of Trent I had only caught glimpses of in the 11 or 12 years I knew him. He was visibly full of creativity and joy. Seeing him post about his job; about riding his bike; about his experiences at Burning Man, about his art and his constant energy to produce it. What amazed me attending his memorial service was how many people got to experience Trent in these months and moments where he had completely let go and became all the pieces of Trent all at once. His co-workers, friends and his family who got to experience the radiant, passionate, unbridled creative side of Trent. During this time Trent had made an effort in many people's lives to patch things up and I know it would have been his next order of business to let his transformation and rebirth be a part of his Tacoma friend's lives.

                  The last time I saw Trent was in Tacoma right before he moved back to Everett. It was a nice day out and we went for a bike ride around Tacoma. I want to close with Trent's own words because they move me and give me the sense that Trent was not only happy but at peace. These words were Trent’s and they resound deep inside of me.

"Getting a chance to display my art to thousands of people. Though I wasn't entirely satisfied with how it turned out other folks seemed to enjoy it, and that's what it's about."

"FINALLY LETTING GO of my hang-ups about my personal appearance. "

"Getting dressed up by my camp-mates and dancing (for the first time in all of my life)..."

"Developing this incredibly powerful wanderlust that now consumes my every waking moment."

"Leaving baggage from previous relationships in poem form on the temple, was a tear inducing catharsis that I've needed for the past couple of years."

R.I.P. Trentalicious