I don't know much about what Mark was later in life. I'm catching up on his podcast and other stuff.

Mark was definitely a skateboarder! Hours a day we skated! I'm pretty sure the garage on Petit Avenue still has dents from him. We once spent a week during summer vacation at my grandma's house in Newbury Park with Mark Rickets skating an abandoned closed skate park. We played Devo's "Freedom of Choice" album exclusively. Another thing about Mark was his musical style. Kiss was big at first, then it was Clash,Joe Jackson, Stiff Little Fingers,Buzzcocks,Selector,Madness,Devo, and B-52s.

One day as we were in his house, a knucklehead neighbor stole his Duane Peters red and black stripped deck with red kryptonic wheels. Of course this was uncalled for and completely unacceptable! The Calvary was dispersed. I stole my mother's red Maverick as she napped. (I've done this many of times. Mark has gone to many places to skateboard new developments with smooth as silk asphalt.) We loaded up, and I think Russ,Pete,and Johnny were aboard to find this fuck. Less than twenty minutes of cruising the neighborhood we found this skateboarding stealing deviant motherfucker. Mark rushed him, I existed my mom's car without putting the brake on in the excitement. Almost hit the thieves father's collectable cars. There was a little scuffle, a scared father, and a safely recovered Duane Peters with red Kryptonic wheels back home before my mother awoke from her nap. That's how it used to be done!

I was very lucky to have the Goff family in my life at crucial time in my development! My parents were divorced and I was a latch key kid. I spent all most everyday at th Goff's in my junior high times.

Mark was notorious for saying "Don't eat that" as he slapped the pizza, giant chocolate chip cookie, or ice cold soda out of your hand and it went flying in the Balboa junior high cafeteria line. You were fucked! You went hungry! It could be argued, Mark was teaching me a life lesson or he was an asshole.

Mark,I,Johnny Rutherford, Russ Dicuss, and Peter Becerra when in the neighborhood would be grateful when "Ted the ice cream man" would show up after school driving his truck with two huge dobermans and, as far as I can tell....two younger Asian wives, delivering push up sticks and bomb pops. Those conversations between kids and an adult loaded down with sugary sweets are not acceptable now. Ted would later be murdered under suspicious circumstances.

I went to see The Plasmatics at the Paladium with Mark. I'm not sure how we got there. I'm hoping it was in a green Grand Torino! If you know anything about the Plasmatics, their music is aimed at adolescent boys. Hook, line, and sinker for a couple of naive wanna be punks! The lead singer was Wendy O Williams. Mohawked sex goddess who latter died by suicide. (Give her a Goog). Mark and I were really impressed that the guitar player played his solos in another room not listening to the rest of the band. That's fucking punk rock is what we thought. At the concert Mark and I weasel our way through the "fan base" of weirdos to the front of the stage. At one point Wendy, shimmy s down her sweaty sexy underwear (nothing like our mothers) does the pull back the elastic panty on the forefinger and let it fly......the super elated recipient was Mark Burton Goff(RIP). Happy happy happy was that car ride home. 

I was fortunate and blessed to have met Mark almost 30 years ago when we were both enrolled in a screenwriting course at UCLA. I was a "Comedy" guy, he was an "Action" guy and we quickly bonded over a shared realization that we were the only two sane people in this class. The fact that WE were the sane people should tell you all you need to know. That was a big part of Mark's shine -- at his core, he was solid, loving and funny. We should all be that way.

We "graduated" from the class (which meant we actually finished our screenplays) and went out into the world. I went into 1/2 hour TV and Mark almost instantly sold a script to Will Smith. I remember being so excited for him that I cut out the blurb in the trades, had it blown up and framed and drove it to his house. His smile stretched from Pasadena to Ventura and his hug almost broke my neck. He was never shy about sharing his joy and gratitude. We should all be that way.

Mark was to me, the embodiment of "The Black List" in screenplay writing. He wrote so many great, producible, clever scripts. I always turned to him for an ear when I had a story idea and he always had a rock-solid take on the material. Why he wasn't the next Joe Eszterhas, I have no idea. Could be that there's nothing fair in this business or that he wasn't ever a megalomaniacal SOB that would step on whoever/whenever to "succeed." He was a great writer and a greater person. We should all be that way.

The world was made much better by his existence and far worse by his early exit. Everyone who knew him loved him, and will miss him dearly. Oh, and he also saved a ton of animals. We should all be that way, but we can't -- there was only one Mark Goff.

Goodbye, Friend.

I'm so glad I got to know Mark Goff on ASM4.  He was such a breath of fresh air and had such an amazing perspective on the work we do, having come to it from a different path.  His cheerful presence was always so welcome and appreciated - and no small part of the reason he was so well-beloved by his colleagues.   

I wish I could be there to celebrate his life.  I hope the day brings not just tears of sadness, but joy as folks remember him.