MANUEL STAHL! He would have turned 23 today. I'm not sad. Instead, I look back on memories of him fondly. He was fun to tease. I used to love grossing him out with my perv jokes about me and my dad getting it on. He'd say "Jesus Christ, Tanya!" and shake his head in disapproval - which always prompted me to laugh maniacally. Oh man.
OR! The time we were sitting in one of our philosophy classes together and I (lame) drew a heart on his notebook paper and he smiled and threw his arms up in triumph -- in the middle of class. What a nutjob.
OR! In class when he (knowing that I have this freakout thing about people touching my achille's tendon) "dropped" his pencil and on the way up squeezed and pulled my achilles. I seriously squawked and rammed my knee into my desk as he cracked up at my misfortune.
OR! The time he took me on my first real "date" and made reservations and we both got all dressed up and he pulled my chair out for me and he paid for our meal and made me think he was this amazing, chivalrous gentleman - which he was. BUT! At the end, as I walked arm in arm with him down State Street, he pointed out that a few dudes were checking me out. I was grossed out. Like a true gent, he reached behind me, flipped up the bottom of my short flowy skirt and flashed them my ass! I quickly covered up, but UGH! Horrible!! I hit him so hard and was sooo embarassed. He apologized. I believed him, but I still hit him really hard again.
OR! The time we took this massive tinfoil ball and kept chucking it at each others' heads. When he nearly tagged me and it slammed against the couch I said "Damn, you're gonna either kill me or bust a hole through your wall." Manni was so adamant that the huge, dense tinfoil ball would not cause such a commotion. So, Amit and I stood back, watched him wind-up, hurl it towards his paper-thin bedroom door, and then watched it fly completely through it - much to Manni's dismay. After we laughed until we cried, we noticed Manni was just standing with his hands on his head saying "Why did you guys let me do that?" Oh, Stahl. I miss you, kid!
I like to think that if he were still alive, we'd still be in close contact. I don't think we'd talk a lot - because I would, duh, still have a lot of feelings for him - but, I'd like to think we'd still call each other and chop it up. In the picture to the right we are at a party - I'm wearing a halter & not nekkid, gross-o's! - and we are bantering back and forth. Most likely I am deciding whether I should say something disgusting or whoop his ass in air hockey again.
Anyway, Stahl, if there is such a thing as the AfterLife, I hope you are having an awesome party in which you eat bratwurst (or something intensely German like that) and Marilyn Monroe blows you afterwards while you eat cake! Yeah, I said it. Take care, man. I hope you know I still think about you tons. Duh. And I wish I had been more myself around you. That is something I definitely regret. I was just too timid in wake of your greatness. Lame, I know. Too bad we never got to go to Alaska to catch polar bears, or to that rad jazz club we found out about. Maybe later...
PS. Here are a few links to read up on:
UCSB Motorcycle Club's Tribute
First UCSB Daily Nexus Article
Follow-Up Nexus Article
A more heartfelt blog I wrote about Manuel Stahl
5 comments:
thanks for including the links -- you've mentioned him before i wondered what his story was.
i'm truly sorry for your loss, he sounds like an amazing person.
xoxoxox
Thank you for more insight into Manuel's life. Here are some more pictures of Manuel doing modeling in NYC.
http://www.stahlusa.net/manuel.htm
Johannes (his dad)
I"m not really sure who this is, but I was having one of those nights again during which I can't think of anything but Manuel. I miss creating memories with him like the ones you have written about here. Some of the stories I havn't heard yet and it felt good to read them. I was just searching through the internet too see what I could find and this is exactly what I was looking for. Thank you for making my night a little easier.
Roman
(younger brother)
Four years later and I'm still doing the same, Roman. Searching for photos and rereading posts about him whenever I get that feeling I want to call him and see how he's doing.
My thoughts are with you and your family often and I hope you are all well.
Much love,
Whitney
*Thanks to the writer for sharing your memories.
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