By Rob Bleetstein

Well, this is one gig that’s not supposed to be on the itinerary, but here we are. Obviously Brian graced all of you here today with his love, friendship and generosity in some form or another, but for me he was simply my best friend and brother.   

The first time I ever laid sight on “Pol,” or “Homey,” as we constantly referred to one another as in our multiple phone calls to each other every day, was when Steven Maizner took me to check out Brockport State University in New York when I was 17. We pulled into the University of Rochester MayFest celebration and onstage was this guy who not only sounded like Jerry Garcia in his guitar playing prime, but also kinda had that look of him in his prime too with the glasses and admirable mop of hair and bushy beard. All I could think was, “this guy’s got it going on.” I would sure find that out in a big way in the following 27 years.
    
Coinciding with our mutual moves to Northern California in 1980, it was only a matter of weeks and there was no question that Brian was my brother and Laurie was my sister.   To even begin to count the ways and things that Brian has done for me and the times he’s always been there for me is impossible.   He put a garden in my front yard, redid my bathroom floor, and would always give me a wake up call at 5am when he knew I had an early flight out of town. It was no big deal for him as he was up and ready to take on life to the fullest every day, and have no doubt, he did.
    
But aside from sharing his enormous amount of love, Brian was incredibly generous. I was lucky enough to get a taste of that in the literal form as Pol could cook like no one else. From the days at Zelda’s in Capitola to the countless dinners he and Laurie always invited me to in their amazingly love-filled home with the two best girls anyone could ever wish for, he had passion and talent for so many things and seemed to meld them together effortlessly.
And music was certainly one of those too. It’s safe to say that was one of the strongest underlying bonds in our friendship. He didn’t really give me guitar lessons back in those Santa Cruz days, but he always let me just play along with him, even when I would constantly hit all the wrong notes, and come on, if that’s not the sign of something more than a true friend, what is?
      
Brian also knew the great gift of laughter very, very well…and that too would be a constant source of joy for us all. I’m proud to have turned him on to the tasteless talents of Country Dick Montana, Mojo Nixon and Tenacious D.   People he didn’t know personally but had a big space in his heart for nonetheless.
      
Pol really had the balancing act of life figured out pretty damn good. He could party with the best of ‘em and live as care free as possible, all the while making sure business was in order and the home fires were kept burning (pardon the pun). And the home and family that he and Laurie created and opened up to me is the greatest gift I have in my life. I can’t even begin to describe my love for Jilian and Dana, who are beautiful, smart, funny and were loved so, so much by their Dad, who always had them at the top of his list in all aspects of his life.
    
Brian’s world was filled with love, music, laughter, friendships and a continuous quest for the better things in life. I don’t know if you could possibly find a more peaceful and grounded native New Yorker. I do know that he is in peace now, telling me to wrap it up and let Steven get up here, so, Homey, I’ll always be waiting for your call and our bond will remain eternal. I’ll see you and Stu at the Butcher Boys reunion one of these days, say hi to Jake for me, and know I’ll forever be there for Laurie and the girls and I’m beyond grateful for the times I had with you and I don’t think a better best friend exists out there.   

Rock on homeboy.