In Memoriam

I met Paul Weber in 1979, when we were both still young and just getting started. From the beginning, we recognized that we were kindred spirits, formed by many of the same influences, committed to many of the same moral principles and in love with many of the same things. Indeed, he would often look at me wistfully and say "Oh, the loneliness" when one of our younger colleagues failed to remember a book or a film or a song that he and I had carried with us from our college days. To those who didn't know him well or whom he regarded with contempt, he could be distant, even harsh -- and, in truth, he had profound disdain for people whom he felt were self-seeking or pompous or lacking in generosity toward others. A lot of things disappointed him about the world and he treated that disappointment as a kind of betrayal. Indeed, I would go so far as to say that he was secretly a thwarted romantic at heart, even though he would hate to hear me say so. To me, he had a wonderful sense of play and he always invited me to share that with him. As Paul himself would often say, the world was divided into those who had "dance" and those who didn't. He himself liked nothing better than to sit on a chairlift with me and Mark Neporent or Marc Weingarten and let us ridicule him by calling him "Lightbulb Head" or "Tron". Although he didn't talk about it, he took great delight in his friends. He was a great lawyer, a great teacher, a committed father and an exasperating churl, all at the same time. As he would put it, the goal in life was to be a "foxhole" guy. And he was, in spades. He was my dear friend for over 35 years and I loved him like a brother. I do not expect that I will see his like again."