Thank you for the authenticity, Brian McKenna

St. Louis remembers his indomitable spirit today in a special event.

Most people don’t live authentically. It’s a taxing process that's like filming an endless live video on social media for every second you’re out of the house. Everybody is watching and judging, but you couldn’t care less because that’s the way you want to live. Living any other way would be like wearing a mask that made others feel safer, yet decreased your realness by at least 20%.

Brian McKenna never wore a mask. He lived each day like the clock read less than 24 hours left on his time here. He gave a lot of himself to the public, whether it was live videos with his beloved neighbor, Babs, or his lifeless yet loyal UFC punching bag pal, Manny. For every curveball life threw at him, Brian adjusted and created a hit out of it. A pitch too far inside would be driven to right field for a great time out at Stan’s Bar. A pitch off the plate would be looped over to Pueblo Solis for a double.

Nothing got in Brian’s way, even if life’s biggest hurdles tried their best to trip up his good times. Cancer came at him multiple times, and he beat it down every time. When his movie star looks were taken away, his unbreakable spirit crafted a personality that made him the hottest person at any bar. The hair was still perfect, but so was the experience of being in his presence. He was a movie star; he was the movie.

I couldn’t admit to spending hours with him. Like many who knew him, it’s a wish without a happy ending. One of life’s toughest challenges is the regretful experiences that you didn’t take part in. It’s something I’m dealing with a lot at the moment, and the reflections always include a “you should have gotten out there more, dipshit” recap. Brian made you regret spending a night at home in a basement. A night without his presence counted as a zero on your board. A few minutes around Brian was a lifeline to a power source that people who didn’t live outside of South City could only think about when he died suddenly earlier this year.

It wasn’t cancer or any other illness that got him in the end. It was a fateful decision to cross Hampton Avenue in the middle of the night that took him from St. Louis too soon. He only broke into his 60s at the time of his death. Let’s be honest: If anyone deserved to live to 100 around here, it’s Brian. The world needed him more than he needed us. When a guy can create so much life even though his biggest companion at home is a punching dummy, it’s a special person.

Today, the South City community will honor his spirit with a special celebration. Between Devonshire and Nottingham Avenue on Macklind Avenue, several restaurants and businesses will gather to show their love for a one-of-a-kind dude. All of his favorites, including The Mack, will partake in the festivities. You can go down there and find a place to park, then walk around to get a sense of the McKenna experience. Feel that energy from all the people that he touched before his untimely departure. Few have a timely manner to leave this rock, but Brian was far from done with his efforts to lift the city of St. Louis. One would have imagined his shoulders were as big as The Rock with the people he carried during his time here.

That’s all he did. Go somewhere and make it better. Smile and light up a room. Laugh and light it up even more. He could turn a desolate library-like St. Louis Bread Company more entertaining by simply sitting at a table. Every time I saw him there, he got up to hug me. No handshake. Just a big hug. The last time I saw him, I got a hug—one last hug from a great man.

Today, even if for only a little while and a couple of drinks, I’ll honor that man.

Be like Mike? Maybe.

Live like Brian? You bet.