Yesterday, 11:51 AM
"AFS Lost Boys" is a perfect description of those few.
Farr was many things: Charming, self-aware, very accepting of minoritized people, intolerant of bigots of any stripe, very funny, an autodidact, given to violence, great with kids, and a very talented musician.
Local lad of tremendously fucked-up parents (and a fucked up sister) kicked out of the house as a teen, made a life in SF. Played guitar in many bands, got to tour Europe once. Lived in London with Wife #1, worked as a stage hand, drank often with Spider Stacy of the Pogues. Divorced, moved back to SF. Took fencing at City College (sabre). Worked as a "bad doorman" (his own words; he was quick to choose violence, coworker Lothar was a good doorman as he could talk you out to the street). He got a job at AFS.
His music interests branched from guitar to traditional Irish fiddle. A true pro, he took lessons and practiced constantly; he became very good. Good enough to play in sessions in Ireland, where he lived for a couple years with Wife #2. The wheels came off that marriage and he returned to SF, took up bartending and playing fiddle.
Music and drinking were his main pursuits. A degenerative spine problem took away his hand snd his music, and he lost the one thread of his life that tied him to the lifeboat. He drowned in his drink. It took a while.
Friends tried to intervene, but as is mostly the case for interventions, any small successes were drowned within months. He ended up semi-homeless, in and out of ERs, one stint in county jail for a DUI.
I don't have any details about his passing, don't really want to know. I've had too many loved ones die alone and in pain.
So long, Glenn. I wish you peace & music.
Farr was many things: Charming, self-aware, very accepting of minoritized people, intolerant of bigots of any stripe, very funny, an autodidact, given to violence, great with kids, and a very talented musician.
Local lad of tremendously fucked-up parents (and a fucked up sister) kicked out of the house as a teen, made a life in SF. Played guitar in many bands, got to tour Europe once. Lived in London with Wife #1, worked as a stage hand, drank often with Spider Stacy of the Pogues. Divorced, moved back to SF. Took fencing at City College (sabre). Worked as a "bad doorman" (his own words; he was quick to choose violence, coworker Lothar was a good doorman as he could talk you out to the street). He got a job at AFS.
His music interests branched from guitar to traditional Irish fiddle. A true pro, he took lessons and practiced constantly; he became very good. Good enough to play in sessions in Ireland, where he lived for a couple years with Wife #2. The wheels came off that marriage and he returned to SF, took up bartending and playing fiddle.
Music and drinking were his main pursuits. A degenerative spine problem took away his hand snd his music, and he lost the one thread of his life that tied him to the lifeboat. He drowned in his drink. It took a while.
Friends tried to intervene, but as is mostly the case for interventions, any small successes were drowned within months. He ended up semi-homeless, in and out of ERs, one stint in county jail for a DUI.
I don't have any details about his passing, don't really want to know. I've had too many loved ones die alone and in pain.
So long, Glenn. I wish you peace & music.
In the Tudor Period, Fencing Masters were classified in the Vagrancy Laws along with Actors, Gypsys, Vagabonds, Sturdy Rogues, and the owners of performing bears.