The first time I met Tony Barilla was at an IBP party at Greg Stanley's house on Rosedale, in a four-plex across the street from the Lawndale parking lot. He was standing in a threshold between rooms, propped against the door frame, quiet-like, watching things. He told me he was a musician, and I could have sworn he said he just moved here from Michigan. He used the phrase ex-wife in our conversation. He said the name of his band was the seximals.
He’s been a good friend for years. I hardly ever get to see him anymore, and I miss him.