I'm incessantly amazed at the variety of paths we all take through this world, both as individuals and as collectives. We're forced down certain paths by things beyond our control or because we've handed control over to someone else. We take some paths for reasons unknown even to ourselves. We choose the occasional path by volition and for reasons only we know and can't always communicate effectively. The course of these paths is also unpredictable apparently.

I met Philip Weber in the hazy 80s. We both worked at Macado's, a restaurant on the Corner near UVa. He was a bartender and I was a sandwich maker. The job wasn't too bad as crummy restaurant jobs go. One of the managers was a cokehead who would give me $100 and tell me to go find him a gram of blow. He'd keep me on the clock and I made sure it took an hour or two. I've never liked cocaine or the society it attracts but it got me out of work for a while. The majority of my co-workers were kind people of a temperment not as common now as in times past. The grinding economic environment of today doesn't leave a lot of room for civility and things were easier then.

This little knot of co-workers during this period later went on to become a part of the continuity of community in Charlottesville, a remarkable occurence for such a transitory town. Artists, musicians, merchants, architects, teachers and other professions are represented in this particular community of food service alumni.

Philip took his own path. He later became known around town as the Running Man.

Philip was studying chemistry and music at UVa. I was studying women and partying and was on permanent sabbatical from reality. I was a lost soul but I was having a good time. Philip lived on Jefferson Park Ave near Durty Nelly's and I rented a room from him. Neither of us was easy to live with but it was his house so I didn't stay long.

Philip was fascinated by a ridiculous exercise of mine in which the word "love" in pop songs is replaced with "lunch". 'Lunch is a Many Splendoured Thing' was one of his contributions. 'Stop in the Name of Lunch', 'Whole Lotta Lunch', 'All You Need Is Lunch'....this was in the days before search-and-replace so actual memory and association had to be employed. We sure knew how to party back then.

We clashed sometimes but about random things generally involving nothing tangible. Existence/essence style arguments were a frequent topic of debate. Philip was brilliant on a plane that many around him couldn't comprehend but it went both ways as he had trouble understanding people. He was a technician with an artist's leanings. I knew nothing about music theory but left his house with a better understanding of it than when I moved in. He digested piano scores and would try to understand them by explaining them to me, his musically ignorant friend. Through this process, I learned the rudiments of music theory and could apply it. Philip taught me something just by trying to understand something himself.

Time coursed and pushed us all down the paths before us. In the late 80s, I began to see Philip running around town. He told me he got hassled by some passing drivers because of his short shorts and his hair. Cville was still kind of rough then, before the burnishing touch of Mammon began reshaping it into Fairfax Lite. I'd see Philip on the road over the years but he never saw me. He always looked straight ahead when he ran and never allowed himself to be distracted by attempts to get his attention. His devotion to running was pure and complete. His life was built around running 100 miles or more every week, year in, year out, for over 25 years. He became a well-known and legendary figure in Charlottesville.

Only a few times in the past twenty years did Philip and I actually cross paths to exchange words. We were always glad to see each other but neither of us ever made the effort to pursue the friendship.

Philip died when he was hit by a vehicle while running on a foggy early morning in December 2015.

I began by talking about paths. Philip chose his own path and followed it to the end, literally. He inspired people that didn't even know his real name. They were inspired because they saw a human that was choosing and following his own path to the best of his ability, every day.

"Either move or be moved", as the great poet said. Philip did both, just by running his path until its end.