Wanderlust was his muse. For as long as I’ve known Charlie there was music in him as he went. In the earlier days this often took the form of a nonsensical rambling rap somewhat reminiscent of Andy Milonakis in it’s humorous absurdity. This was often accompanied by an obscene amount of Dr. Pepper and Airheads as we walked our way from school to gas station to wherever else. We walked and rode our bikes all up and down Wheat Ridge, Arvada, and Lakewood more times than I can count. On more than a few occasions we would set out late in the night with no real destination just to see where we may end up.
Not long into knowing him he picked up the guitar, learned the CAGE chords and immediately threw himself at mastering Jimmy Page’s Bron-Yr-Aur. He was never one for gradual progression. But progress he certainly did. And in hindsight now it’s not surprising to me that as his musical horizons broadened so did the scope of his travels. His urge to explore and passion for music were tied together in a way that was uniquely Charlie. And I can’t help but feel his passing is a natural progression of that. That he’s not gone but merely further afield.
All the same, I miss you friend.