My pre-GPS marker was the "other" Buckeye Donuts, where I'd occasionally make a run for Andyman because he was working late. I can't remember now why I had so much time to kill or why I wasn't sleeping on those nights, but my favorite place to kill time was with Andyman in that tiny booth. I even made it onto the air a few times in my occasionally drunken state. Who knows what I said. Andy would just laugh his big comforting laugh and smile that amazing smile of his. Andy and I shared conversation and comraderie that helped feed my soul on those boozy nights.
One day, I played a CD101 night at Ludlows in the Brewery District. It was the only gig both my parents ever attended and I remember saying to Andy "Look, both my parents are out there and if you embarrass me, I'll kick your ass..." I'm sure the anxiety on my face showed I was serious. Andy somehow found a way to put a spotlight on both of them and introduce both of them when I stepped onto the stage. I can feel my face going red right now as I remember it. Darn that wicked drunken Andyman!
Over the years, we'd run into each other. In 1998, I went to a Columbus Chill hockey game at the fairgrounds for the first time with my new boyfriend and there was Andy, in a suit. I had to go over and mock him a little. I didn't know it then, but I'd scored big points with the boyfriend (now my husband) because I knew ANDYMAN.
Andyman was for me, a prince among human beings because he radiated so much genuine warmth. He wasn't perfect, but who amongst us is? So many of us felt the patch of sun that Andyman radiated. How could you not be drawn to it?
I love you. I miss you. I'll always remember you.
