Andrew Brown, Melbourne fan and good friend, died last week of unknown causes. I came home to find his funeral notice thoughtfully passed on via e-mail by Lucy Sussex, another Melbourne friend. He was a wonderful guy, sweet and funny and passionately intelligent. He was notable for his height (6'10") and his gentle demeanor. He often wore a t-shirt that said "I hate basketball." He provided some of my best memories of 1987: trying to convince the rather stuffy accordionist and bass player duo at a restaurant we dined at to play Louie Louie, taking me out to hear some great new bands in St. Kilda's and introducing me to them, sleeping on the floor of Alun Harries' flat with me, Nigel Richardson, and Martin Tudor (and stealing the only blanket we had by rolling himself up in it!).
We exchanged fanzines and letters and tapes. Our main connection was new music and science fiction. I saw him in Melbourne, London, and Oakland within about two years time, then not again. He drifted away from fandom, and we mostly lost touch, but once in a while he sent me a postcard. I hope his last years were happy ones. He was a remarkable person. It was a privilege to know him.
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