All music created by Negative Hype Media is dedicated, in honor of, and made possible by Barry Busse.
Who was Barry Busse?
I could answer this question in so many ways. One may expect to see a list of his vast range of accomplishments, or a testament to the depth of his expertise and regard. But instead I would rather substitute this thought; if I had to assign one word to the life of Barry Busse, within the 15 years I knew him, that word would be momentous. Barry Busse is the manifestation of blending every honest part of a great human being. He is much more than significant, which is well aware in the minds of anyone who knew him. Barry was, and still very much is in my world, more than any brief paragraph will ever reflect. He was compelling, he was genuine, he was bold, he was rebellious, he was studious, gracious, and ever problematic. He was wholly inspiring, he would surrogate your determination, and he was a certain achiever. His mind was incredibly capable, his manner was always welcoming, and he was engaging at every level. He loved to learn new things, he loved to teach new things to others. To have his regard was worth rising to the constructive challenges he offered. He was admired, he was adored, and always endearing. He was certain to never let it go unnoticed had he felt vexed by you. He could pierce your resolve with a glare, and he could employ you to improve yourself without you even knowing it. He often did both of those things at the same time. He was well received by anyone who was fortunate enough to cross his path, he could delight anyone with a conversation, and in parting, he could return a willful, sturdy hug even to his most sordid acquaintances, such as myself. He was a friend, and a friend I loved dearly. He was a friend we all loved dearly, that’s who Barry Busse is and will remain.
I fell in love with Ohio and wanted to give something back to the young people in school today…something akin to the incredible experiences I have had along my incredible journey.
The exceptional man that I was lucky to know, and the meaning he gave to my life.
Losing Mr. Busse is something I will mourn the rest of my life. The absence of a remarkably astute and inspiring mentor, and loss of a profound kindred soul has become a great tragedy of my own life. I know only that I truly and deeply loved this man. I don’t expect that I would have ever been ready to let him go, but that thought does not soften the blow to a raw and primal nerve my heart had attached to him. I wish I could make him feel what I feel, when I think about what he means to me. I wish that feeling could be the last feeling he knew, instead of what it is that death brought him, what death brings us all.
At the center of our friendship, I’ve always wanted most to make him proud. Now that’s something I pursue even without the hope of any validation. I’ve lost something from my life that cannot be replaced. What he represented was a pure and sturdy cornerstone, and now it’s simply gone. When I think back to the moment I last saw him, mostly I think about if I had known that hug would be the last I’d ever give him. I think about how I wish I would have squeezed him hard enough for him to know that I’d love him for the rest of my life. Now I just replay the moment, trying to remember it clearer, wishing it was more meaningful so I could feel some absolution. Wishing I could make him feel the weight of the kinship my heart drives me to feel for him. I want now, more than ever, to have given him some semblance of understanding for his significance in my life. I think up all these small wishes that seem so gratifying to wish for, but simply cannot be.
Mr. Busse’s first language was music. The foundation of what invigorated our relationship was making me realize that music was my first language as well. In that, he gave me the greatest part of my life, he gave my life its meaning and its greatest joy. Mr. Busse enlivened something in me that I, otherwise, would never have even looked for. He wasn’t only my friend and teacher, he was my most imperative guide. Mr. Busse was the only true north I had. It will always be my greatest transgression in life, not learning more from him while he was here. The most regrettable aspect, although, is not being a better friend to him the last couple of years with my sparse visiting and abrupt imposition when doing so. Although he was always very accommodating. For this and so much more, I have extended a gesture to help repay part of what I owe to my departed mentor, and given his beloved cat, Tiamo, a nurturing and stable home to live out his days as Barry would have most certainly seen to. Even the strict, twice daily feeding schedule my measured scoop at 9:00 a.m., and again at 8:00 p.m. as he had done for years.
Barry Busse and Daniel Blackwell; 2007