By Bob Sarles

A few random thoughts.

One thing I keep hearing today are the words 'best friend.' One might ask: How can so many people claim to have had Brian as a best friend? If you change the usual emphasis on the phrase you'll understand how Brian could pull this off. Think of it this way, he was the BEST friend. He was always there, he was the best of what a friend could be. That's why so many thought of him as their best friend.

Our family of friends used to often gather every year at the Strawberry Music Festival on Memorial and Labor Day weekends. Partying would often go late into the night. But, every morning it was Brian who got up at the crack of dawn to drag a large tarp and many lawn chairs down to the meadow, for what is called the 'Strawberry Stroll' to stake out a prime spote so all of us late risers would have an excellent place to watch the concert that day. Brian always did this. It was a quiet contribution to his friends that he did without ever asking for thanks. It was just something he did. Because he was the BEST friend.

Unlike many Brian played music with, I'm not really a musician. I play the harmonica, which is the lowest form of musicianship. Anyone who has played music knows that there often is nothing worse than having a mediocre blues harp player enter a jam session. Yet, Brian always welcomed my harmonica playing. Whenever I came over to the Polivy house for one of the countless free meals Brian fed me, he would always ask, "Didja bring your harps?" And we would jam. He was incredibly patient with my playing. And I know I'm not the only one who will say that I never played better than I did when I played with Brian. He made me a better musician.

Over the many years I knew Brian we played together in an ongoing jam session by a pick up band of friends who went by various group names. On the porch of the cabin at the Strawberry Music Festival we called that group 'The Alcoholics.' Other times we were the 'Butcher Boys' because we butchered every song we played. At Dave and Tracy's wedding at the Fillmore we called ourselves the 'Time To Burn Band.' Playing on the famed stage of the Fillmore with Brian and Stu is something I'll never forget. It is very sad that the only two guys in all these jam bands who could really play are no longer with us.

We are here to remember Brian, and I don't want to take anything away from his memory today. But Brian's passing at this time is especially poignant because it happens almost exactly nine years to the day that we lost another brother from our close knit family of friends, someone Brian loved very much, Stu Marks. I know Brian would want us to remember Stu today as well. One thing that Stu's death all those years ago has taught me is that the years have not diminished his memory of him, nor my love for him.   I still speak to Stu, often, and I'll never forget him.   That gives me some solace about losing Brian, as I know that no matter how many years pass from today, I know Brian will always remain in my heart.   His friendship will always be with me. And I will be better for it.

That's all I have to say. Except, I love you Brian. You were my brother.