And the Third One came

Guinness. Calamari. Yankees. All things Gregg loved. (Photo: @davidmoyle)

My friend Gregg (@fstop23) died last week after a battle with cancer.

Since his diagnosis in October, he had put up a great fight. But cancer, being a cheating, murderous mother fucker that it is, got the upper hand mid-March.

His death completed the “it comes in three” circle for me personally.  (Remember 2 former coworkers from earlier this year?)

Folks have been writing wonderful things about Gregg and how his life and death impact them.

I wrote about three drafts of this tribute/story about Gregg now and I couldn’t publish any of them.  His death reminded me of my own mother’s.  It’s not fair to him or to anyone else to talk about how I feel and how I’m dealing with it.

But one thing I can share with you and I can share it well.

A rant.

I’m angry at the unfairness of it all.

Why Gregg?  Why now?  Why rare cancer? Why did he has to suffer so much and so long? Why wasn’t he to one to beat this thing?  I mean, the man was one in a million as a human being, why can’t you give him that one in a million chance to beat cancer too? Instead, you have to give him that rare disease nobody knows what to do with.

Why him?

I know I was cooing about how awesomely God/Universe/Karma/Fate/Circumstances has lined things up for me. But did It have to take Gregg as a payment for this cosmic alignment?  Or is this just another way of the Universe to teach me to fly into a brand new world through an emotional turbulence?

Universe deals out tough love, I guess.  I can’t blame It for that.

But I for damn sure will blame cancer.

Fucking. Cancer.

It has taken two of the people in my world now and gotten on my bad side.

The man who would have been here to mentor my professional leap of faith is gone.

The friend who’d swoop in to go do those things I like to do that Brandon doesn’t necessary want to do–like watching Avatar the second time but in 3D IMAX–is gone.

The kind of friend who took pity on this Carole King fan and took me to the James Taylor/Carole King concert at the Hollywood Bowl is gone.

The guy who would show up to watch USC game with me even though he couldn’t care less about college football.  The twitter buddy.  The photography partner.  The gracious party host.  The Yoda of technology and innovation.  The best of a friend anyone can have.

All of that. All of Gregg.


Fuck you very much, cancer.



  1. Ken C.   •  


    Very, very sorry that you lost your dear friend. The two of you shared a remarkably close and richly comforting relationship.

    From your account of Gregg’s qualities, he certainly was a wonderfully kind and nuturing person.

    Again, we’re very sorry.

  2. Nannette   •  

    Firstly, I’m so very sorry for all of your losses from this horrible, devastating disease. It’s true….there’s just nothing logical about it. Or fair. It always seems to take the best of the best out with it and that really pisses me off.

    It’s no consolation but be glad for the time you had with them. I barely knew Gregg and he left such an imprint on my life. I feel fortunate to have even been able to meet him, if only virtually, and he’s just another person that will spur me on to be the best human being I can be….following his example.

    Again, I’m so, so sorry for your loss.

  3. Dave   •  

    Sorry for the crappy news, Oak. Cancer sucks, no other way to put it. Chin up, homegirl.

    On an unrelated note, you should have a look at your site here. It’s all wonky, at least on Firefox.

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