Mark was a close friend at Stanford. If I'm honest, I was probably a little in love with him for most of that time. We met August 1987 before classes officially started--both of us in the remedial "remember your math" pre-class class the GSB offered to us non quant types. We did a lot of things together, took many of the same classes, hung out at many a party--but I realized later how little I knew him. Mark kept things private.
There's one unfading memory. It still comes back as intense as ever whenever I hear U2. A few times, either on a Tuesday afternoon (we didn't have class on Wednesdays) or on Friday after class, we'd take off in Mark's little brown car and drive over the Santa Cruz Mountains to the ocean. We'd even phone a gas station on the coast to find out if the fog was in or not. As always with Mark, there was music. And it seemed as if sometime during the drive, we'd hear the recently released U2 single:
I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you.
I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you.
But I still haven't found What I'm looking for. But I still haven't found What I'm looking for. ...
I believe in the Kingdom Come Then all the colours will bleed into one Bleed into one. But yes, I'm still running.
But I still haven't found What I'm looking for. But I still haven't found What I'm looking for
Thanks Margaret, your “He’s Still Running”, hits on the very core of Mark, INSPIRATION. Starting to descry a commonality among those of us recalling him: That most, and best perhaps, Mark was an INSPIRATION to all fortunate enough to have known him.
Remnants of Harvey reigning over the northern border here, a sheltering-time ripe for a little U2 and Mark retrospective, inspired by you. Suddenly realizing that often, U2 mentions running in its songs, without them being about running. Know I like to espy running in celebrities. Something mutual, basic human, background to living well, not an upfront sexy-sell thing. Somebody writing their songs is a runner. Never really thought about that until you’ve brought it up. Of course Haven’t Found a favorite. Especially from Rattle and Hum, album, not movie. Used to pair it with Stones’ Can’t Always Get What You Want back in the old mixtape days. Try it. Marathon-morning music. Inspirational. Then thinking further, where their classic guitar intro building up to Streets Have No Name ends, and the words start, the absolute catharsis “I wanna run—“. “Still building and burning down love”, indeed. Then can’t forget the haunting burnout aftermath sound of Running to Stand Still. Concluding my Much Respect to you, fresh segue comes to mind, have to test if it’s good in reality as in thought—daydream into reality, always the crux of Mark’s and my brotherhood:
Stones, Can’t Always Get What You Want >>
From Rattle and Hum album, Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For >>
Streets Have No Name >>
Running to Stand Still— (“suffer the needle chill”) >>
Comfortably Numb, Pink Floyd— (“just a little pinprick…do believe it’s working, good” ) >>
Floyd’s Vera >>
One more from “The Wall”, Mother >>
John’s Lennon’s, Mother
So much Blues it Hurts. Mark always inspired me. Still does moreso even, now that we know what we’ve lost.