In memory of James Golick (https://medium/@mijlodaniel/in-memory-of-james-golick-fbc8b7ef3c52). James and I spoke a lot recently about belonging. For many years, we both had felt like outsiders. James had lived extensively in Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver, and had traveled around the world, but it wasn’t until he moved to New York this year, that he found his home. We engaged in an ongoing debate pinning Toronto against New York, both of us mostly arguing for New York, with him trying to convince me to live there almost daily. We spoke about the food, cocktails, fashion, the talent, the architecture, the jazz. The endless list of things that James was passionate about. But the thing that touched me most was that he said living there was the first time in his life that he felt like he belonged. He would communicate how happy he was to have finally found his home, his job at Normal, and a woman who he believed he could spend his life with. He was happier than he’d ever been. James was an inspiration, my oldest and closest friend, my most trusted advisor, the most intelligent, disciplined, and multi-faceted person I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. But what made James most dear to me, was that he made me feel like I belonged. I’ve never met someone who I could speak with so freely, so deeply, and felt connected to on so many levels. He understood me in a way one else ever has. I’d joke to girlfriends that if it was socially acceptable, I’d marry him platonically. I wasn’t really joking. Last time James was in Toronto, we ate brunch on College Street. We spent most of our time complaining about the venue, the menu, the staff. I brought up that we were both pessimists, and that this had recently been giving me some trouble psychologically. James responded immediately that we were in fact optimists, that we looked at the world and saw what was possible, what could be better. And that we could have a conversation that might look like complaining to other people, discussing our many issues with this mornings meal, while simultaneously having a great time together. It was these sharp insights, expressed so casually, that were my most profound experiences with James. Something that had been giving me difficultly for months, he could resolve in seconds. I’m reminded of a recent Mark Zuckerberg quote: “There are people who see the beauty of things, and then there are people who see things and want to make them better, and I tend to be the latter.” James was an avid skier, yogi, kayaker, golfer, hacki-sacker, juggler, food and music lover, debater, and more, but his life was most dedicated to technology. To seeing things, and to making them better. He moved away from Toronto 10 years ago. I would visit him wherever he went, he would visit when he was back, but it was technology that kept us together. Daily texts, emails, tweets, Skype sessions, I will miss James here more than anywhere, but it’s also where he will live on. I knew that James was brilliant, and renowned within technology circles, but seeing the stream of admiration on Twitter this past few days has been incredible. His effect on the world of technology was substantial, much more than even I knew, and I am happy that his legacy will continue, not just in our hearts, but on the Internet where his work will continue to help the community do what he did, and what they do best: make things better. In grade nine, we conceived a business for selling graffiti t-shirts online. In the fifteen years since we dreamt up many more. James helped me find my calling in business and technology, and helped me realize it every day. Goodbye James.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 00:24:11 +0000
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