Mike lived like an outlaw. He WAS an outlaw.
He made me feel like a repressed, sheltered, middle-class square. (I am one thousand per cent certain that he didn't intend to do this) He was a hyperactive, impulsive child who cared not one bit about tomorrow. It just wasn't in him to consider the future. So, he thought nothing about stealing from stores. This is not to say that he didn't care about people. He really had a nice way of talking and listening to what people had to say.

Words that come to mind are rebel, lone wolf, (actually, "coyote" seems more appropos) anarchist, street (as in "credibility," which he had in spades.) and, that word again, OUTLAW.

There won't be another Mike Guis. Authoritarians, tyrants and party poopers can rest a little easier now, which is a total drag.

Damn.Damn.Damn. Mike had such a good heart. So open to people. We'd bounce into each other in the "early days", shared a brief tenure at the Island of Misfit Toys (aka EMH), then run into each other again after I started going to big girl school and he was back from whatever wildness had possessed him. I was always glad to see him, and he was always glad to see me, no matter how wide the "lifestyle" gulf had become. He liked what he liked and did what he did, with some sort of zen grace that drove some people up the freakin wall.... Actually, it wasn't grace, it was chaos, but sometimes those blend beautifully. Peace, Mike. I'm smiling for you right now.

Mike always felt like a brother to me and I admit to being a little in love with him too.

It's a fun memory that the last three times we met up we made out like teenagers.

I don't know what else to say right now but Ed's right there never ever will be anyone like him.

Heidi

I used to work with him at the Fab 50s Cafe years back. I wish I could of seen him one more time. Deffinately someone worth remebering.

Steve

mike was special as fuck. his name will remain golden in my heart.

hi dave came across this today..anndrija posted this..on myspace..
Body: Saturday, December 17, 2005

I hope he lives

I was picking up my Christmas tree with my brothers at Bambi's on Madison and Dewey a couple hours ago. We were loading the tree into the truck when my brother Josh said, "Hey somebody lost a shoe." There was a black tennis shoe on the sidewalk. About twenty yards from the shoe was a man sprawled in the road. A woman was standing over him. We approached the man and saw that he was dying. His bicycle was lay nearby. Its front tire was bent. The woman standing over him had hit him with her car, we later learned. She was fairly calm.

Other people were arriving on the scene. Someone checked his pulse. He had a faint one. I checked if he were breathing. It didn't seem that he was. The man was bleeding profusely from his head, but I couldn't see the wound. A puddle of blood was expanding at our feet. His eyes were wide open, and he was twitching. There was a small crowd now. "Keep him warm," someone advised. People began covering him with their jackets. I sensed confusion and uncertainty in the air. I tried to focus my mind on my CPR training. I made sure someone had called 911. The man suddenly gasped for air, then went quiet again. I checked his pulse again. It was there, but very faint.

Someone said, "Talk to him. Keep talking to him." Everybody began talking to him. We told him to hang in there; to stay with us; to keep breathing. A woman cried, "Someone should say a prayer." Nobody did -- at least not out loud. I asked if anyone had a towel. I figured the only thing we could do for the guy was try to stop the bleeding until the paramedics arrived.

Someone at the back of the crowd began telling everyone to leave the man alone and not to touch him. I ignored this person. One should definitely not move an injured person unless they are in imminent danger of sustaining further injuries. But checking a person's pulse and respirations isn't going to hurt that person, and even touching the person gently and talking to him or her will do more good than just standing aloof and gawking.

The man's pulse was gone. I pulled back the jackets and got ready to do heart compressions. The same guy at the back of the crowd yelled, "What are you doing? Leave him alone." I ignored him, but I checked the pulse again. It was back, faint. In the next moment, another man came running up. He yelled, "I'm a nurse." I moved aside and let the nurse tend to him. Not too long after that we heard the fire engine. When the paramedics arrived on scene, my brothers and I left.

I had to close the comments section on this one, too Damn spammers. If someone would like to make a comment, please let me know and I'll put it up.

Thanks,

--Dave