Running into Mailboxes

Those in New York City who adored Bill but like myself are unable to make it to Mill Valley for his memorial service Friday are welcome to join me in Central Park at 2 pm for a run of 2.2 or so miles — the distance Bill had left to complete the SF marathon Sunday.

The idea of honoring this way comes, I believe, from Rebecca Smith Hurd, a more recent colleague of his at Wired. I gather some of you will be running/walking the actual course he left unfinished when he collapsed in SF at 11 am Pacific — hence my plan to “join” you.

I will be at the 6th Av /59th St entrance to the park at 2 pm on the nose and should be unmissable as Jake Ward has said he’ll join. Jake stands six-eight (black hair), and I can get there on tip toes (six-seven, red hair). Despite our collective inseams, you should have no problem keeping up. Or, I’ll speak for myself and confess that the few times I ran with BIll he left me in the dust.

It has a been a difficult week trying to accept his loss. There are few people I can think of in my life who made me better, while asking so little in return.

Or made me laugh as hard (and at myself).

Or beat me to my own punchlines — and made them funnier.

Truly, the very first time I met Bill, just inside the door of the SFWeekly, I liked him. He rescued me from that moment when you’re so nervous you wish you hadn’t come.

Grieving with Jessie Scanlon Monday night, I realized he’d never failed me since.

Right off the top, one of my fondest memories of him is with you Evan, after Shoshana’s Readymade loft party two or three years back. We have hit the streets looking for more food and trouble, and Bill is running full-tilt into postal boxes and stacks of cardboard bundled on Soho curbs, pratfalling, clowning a bit extra for Shana’s benefit, no doubt. But really she’s just the excuse we need to be moronic for an hour or two and forget it all for awhile. We hadn’t seen each other in months to that point, but we were dancing, laughing, but also confiding the stuff you generally don’t want to talk about within moments of being reacquianted.

That is why I wish I could have made it to Cali tomorrow: Since leaving Wired, I’ve grown accustomed to his physical absense and fear I’ll miss him more later. It just isn’t right that he’s gone.

I will dig out some photos and billspeak for future posts.

– Brad Wieners