Eli... 25 years ago we were at Tierney's for the MKA class of 94's first reunion. We barely spoke in high school or middle school (my most significant high school memory of you was when you got suspended for fighting with my ex, Gregg), so I was kind of in shock to find us chatting and flirting and me driving you home at the end of the night.

I remember you sneaking me into the house (I know you and your mom are together now – my apologies to her for our inconsiderate 20-something behavior) ...waking up to your gorgeous face the next morning was like some surreal high school fantasy and I was afraid that if I rubbed away the morning-after mascara crust that it wouldn't be real even though it was. I was convinced after our somewhat awkward lunch at Forte's that would be it, but you actually called (or texted or emailed or whatever people did in 1999).

I thought we were so cosmopolitan – I invited you to a museum opening and you took me to that advertising industry event. I remember thinking over the rounds and rounds of delicious red/yellow/green cocktails that I was so damn lucky to be there with the hottest guy at the party. I think someone took a picture of us that night – I wish I had a copy of it all these years later. This photo from the reunion lunch is the closest thing I have to a picture of "us". 

Admittedly I didn't try that hard to really get to know you. Reading through the memories left by others, I wish I had gotten to know you better... like your fascination with how things fit together – MKA didn't offer shop, but if it had, we probably would've been in that class together. 

But there were moments when I got to learn more about what made you you... Like how you spoke about your mom’s work as an artist with pride and admiration – the way you described her artwork was so inspiring. Or when I got a glimpse of your spontaneity when you just had to jump up and strut around the room playing a Santana song on your guitar in the middle of the night. Or when you raved how great a movie The Graduate was – of course I rented it and it left me curious and wondering if you had a Mrs. Robinson experience of your own and who she was (and I realize that 47-year-old me now could be a Mrs. Robinson to 23-year-old 1999 you).

I had no intention of getting my heart broken, especially not by a guy from high school, so I tried to play it aloof and emotionally uninterested with you – were you able to see right through that? Maybe I wasn't anything special to you, but did you know how giddy I felt whenever we were together? It was like I was on an adrenaline high but I wasn't going to let you break my heart and bring me crashing down. When you came home for Thanksgiving, did you realize how excited I was to see you? And then that same weekend, when we met up at the Verona Inn and decided to stop seeing each other, I just shut down any feelings I had and told myself it would never have worked out anyway. Sometimes I wonder how things might have turned out if I hadn't worked so hard to be emotionally indifferent about everything with you.

Then I called you a couple months later and unfairly accused you of some terrible things – and that was the last time I spoke to you besides a lame "what's up?" 5 years later at our 10-year reunion. 

And then the years after that flew by... I was too exhausted from chasing after a 1-year-old to go to the 2019 reunion – I had no idea that would be the last chance I'd have to see you. I wish there had been another reunion to laugh about how stupid I was about everything with you, to admit how over the moon I was for that short time, to thank you for making my teen daydreams a reality, and to apologize for the last things I said to you.

But there won't be, so this will have to do. I hope you know how unforgettable you are and most importantly, I hope you're at peace now.

I'm pretty sure (not 100%) that this was the concert we went to with Booth & Dave Kettner. Tears were shed. It's so fresh in my head. I'm sorry to be weird. The holidays are bringing all the feels.

Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

You were caught on the crossfire of childhood and stardom,

Blown on the steel breeze.

Come on you target for faraway laughter,

Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,

Rode on the steel breeze.

Come on you raver, you seer of visions,

Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

Michelle and I were heartbroken when we heard the news of Eli's passing. He was my friend and roommate for years and was a constant source of pure fun. He was intelligent and boasted an exceptional sense of humor and absurdity. I am certain he would be proud to hear that he was the pre-eminent vulgarian in my life.  As I gradually [then all at once] exiled myself to the suburbs, we went our separate ways over the years. I am deeply saddened that I was not a part of his life these most recent years, and pledge in his memory to aid those unique and beautiful souls who struggle, as we all do from time to time. May Eli's memory be a blessing, as he was to me in life.

Mike Kettner

It's hard to fathom Eli's left us.  My friendship with him started my freshman year in high school when he slapped a stack of books out of my hands and we both laughed.  One of the smartest people I ever met with a matching world class sense of humor.  And loyal to the core.  So many great memories.  One of my favorites was from our wedding reception when he grabbed a tray and had the bar tender pour a couple dozen shots of tequila which he happily served to my parents' friends (not your typical shots & tequila demographic).  Hard to resist his charm.

My sincerest condolences to his family.  I will miss him dearly.

I've known Eli for close to 15 years. We met at the squash courts (of course) at NYSC 62nd and Broadway where we worked together teaching kids Squash. Since then we have had many adventures. We once took a group of about 12 kids to California to do some training and play some squash tournaments over there. One was in San Diego. One morning we all went to a diner called the 'Broken Yolk' for breakfast. On the menu was 'The Gut-buster Omelette Special' which said, 'Eat 12 egg omelet with home fries and two biscuits at the Broken Yolk Café, for T-shirt and wall-of-fame rewards'. Well Eli saw the 'wall-of-fame' opportunity, dived right in - as you'd expect - and ordered one. I noticed there must have been over 100 plaques on the wall with peoples names on who had achieved this feat. Could Eli be next??

10 minutes later the plate arrived.... oh my god! it was enough to feed our whole table. I have a great photo (which I can't find at the moment) of Eli with the biggest cheesiest smile on his face - mouth agape - looking over the challenge that faced him on the plate.

Needless to say, Eli being the finely tuned athlete that he was, hadn't got the stomach stretching ability to consume even 1/5 of what was on that plate but the whole breakfast experience was lit up with Eli's enthusiasm, disbelief and just plane old joy at giving it a try. Something that he had the ability to do almost anytime, anywhere. One of his many wonderful traits.

We have had some great times together and I shall dearly miss Eli. The last 3 or 4 years with covid and me having 2 young kids made it hard to stay connected but we did manage to see each other a couple of times. Sadly not for long enough and we never got to play that game of squash we were talking about where he wanted to show me how he'd been working on his technique and now had an even deeper and better understanding of the game. 

Eli's passion for life, squash or whatever he was currently infatuated by (I think of 'my memory palace', motivational speaking, a new diet) was catching and relentless. I couldn't help but love him for that and he was perfect just the way he was. 

RIP buddy. Keep working on that backhand hold, flick cross-court drop!