Matt Gersting’s passing
has been sending major shockwaves through Orlando culture since last night. Most people these days know him for his stand-up as one of the key movers of the city’s indie comedy scene.
But I know him from the local music community.
It was many years ago, back when Bar-BQ-Bar
was around and cool only to cool people. But the memory’s as vivid as if it was just last month. Gersting and I were sitting at the bar, discussing as always. At that point, he was very much of the Orlando music scene, as both a player in highly regarded band the Sugar Oaks
and an active, intelligent supporter. But we were talking about comedy.
From the perspective of guys very familiar with the live setting and all its dynamics and politics, we both agreed that it was probably the most difficult, daunting and naked things a human could do on stage. That sentiment between us made us unanimously regard the art form with both fear and awe.
Next thing I know, within probably a couple years, he’s doing
it. We shared the same conclusion about the prospect. In me, that conclusion ensured that I would never, ever contemplate the notion, not even in unchained fantasy. In him, however, it triggered something else entirely. Who the fuck does that? Only the select few.
So cheers to you, sir. And thank you for your light.
There's a funeral fund
. Help if you can.
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