Mike Camero was a good friend. He leaves us in the middle of his 5th decade on this earth. It is a loss for family and friends.
I met Mike in the 5th grade when my family moved to Houston. We became close friends in high school. Mike was the baby of his family. The youngest of 3 brothers. The classic All-American boy. Mike was not the tallest or biggest guy, but he was a good athlete. Mike was one of the few guys who could fight with our friend Dong (not a good idea) and sometimes win or draw. He was good enough in sports to play linebacker on our high school’s Freshman and JV football squads. This being Texas, making the football team and putting up with the exhausting practice regiment in 99 degree weather is no small feat. Mike also was a good student, scoring good grades in advanced classes.
The welcome new addition
One of the joys of Mike’s life was his little sister Carrie. Carrie was a big surprise. She was born more than a decade after Mike. She entered the Camero clan while we were in high school. I remember asking Mike what it was like having a baby sister so much younger than him. I figure it might be a drag having a crying, diaper-soiling infant to contend with. His answer surprised me. Mike was never a sentimental guy. He just sized up the situation by saying that his sister was pretty cool and fun. Not cute. Not darling. But cool and fun. Classic Mike.
One time I remember being at Mike’s house. Carrie must have been around 3 or 4 years old. Carrie and Mike started arguing. He never baby-talked with Carrie. He treated his conversation with her just as he would a friend or adult. I remember walking out with Mike afterwards and telling him, “Mike, she’s only a kid.” Mike has this puzzled look on his face, and said, “Well, sometimes she pisses me off.” I started laughing. I realized that he looked at Carrie as his equal despite the huge discrepency in age and experience. That was Mike for you. He never looked up or down on anyone. He treated everyone on an equal par, sometimes to his detriment.
Mike and the hobo
We had a high school reunion at South-by-Southwest in 2001. Austin is known for its campus, its music, its barbecue and its liberal attitude. It also has plenty of homeless folks down on their luck. We were cruising around town checking out different bands when this hobo confronts us. He is out of it. Despite physically impeding our path and even grabbing our arms, we ignore the man and continue walking past. All except Mike. The guy grabs Mike’s arm and starts begging Mike for money. Mike is trying to extract himself from the situation, but the hobo is peristent. We turn back, and there is Mike in distress. He looks straight at this man, and says, “Leave me alone man, I’ve got my own problems.” The guy finally relents and Mike rejoins the group. We are amused with the absurdity of the situation. That was Mike for you. Honest to a fault.
Mike and the wardrobe change
After graduation, Mike headed off to College Station to Texas A&M University. The environment didn’t suit Mike well. He couldn’t connect with the people, and it was a struggle. He would tell us how he would entertain himself at boring parties. Sometimes he would go into the host’s bathroom and start carving soap scultures. Another time, he went into the host’s bedroom and found a t-shirt from the guy’s closet. He returns to the party wearing the shirt. The guy looks at Mike and says, “hey, that’s funny, I have that same shirt.” Mike casually says, “oh really, that is funny,” and goes about his business. Quirky sense of humor? Check.
Mike and music
Chris, Dong and I had visions of starting the next kick-ass rock band along the lines of The Cult or Jane’s Addiction. Talent got in the way. The rare jam sessions turned out to be more noodling than practice. Mike grabbed an axe much later than Chris and Dong (I was on drums). He started playing in the middle of high school and unlike Chris and Dong, he could play a song from start to finish, and well. Mike loved music and was almost entirely self-taught. Had he started earlier and joined with a more musically inclined group of friends, his musical pursuit may have flourished.
Mike and his mom
It was the summer after our first year in college. Mike was disillusioned with Texas A&M. He couldn’t understand the purpose of college. The lack of structure and support was disorienting. He told me that he was far too innocent before going off to college. I didn’t understand what he meant. He explained that he lived the perfect childhood. His mom was so supportive and protecting of him, that he had no idea what the real world was like. He was shocked at the pettiness, fakeness, and ugliness that the world presented. He could not buy into the game. Mike’s number one role-model in life was his unconditionally loving mother who instilled values such as honesty and loyalty. When he went out into the world, he discovered that few shared this ethos. This disturbed Mike greatly. Mike decided not to take the traditional path of scaling the ladder in corporate America. He had all the tools to win at that game, but he didn’t believe in the purpose. Mike loved his mom dearly.
A complicated legacy
Mike had a son, Donovan, from his ex. Unfortunately the relationships did not last between father and mother. Mike was so excited to be a dad, but his time with his boy was limited due the estrangement between the parents. This is a true shame. Mike’s baby brought a sense of purpose back into his life that he had lost in the adult world. I know that despite the limited time he spent with his son, he truely loved him. I hope that sometime in the future, his son will get to know more about Mike. He should know that his dad was a talented and honorable man. A father he could be proud of.
A friend you could count on
Mike was a true friend. No drama or flakiness. He had your back when you needed it. Some of my best conversations were with Mike. If you asked him for a favor, he would do it. If you asked him a question, you would get a straight and honest answer. Mike had a great sense of humor and was fun to be around. He sometimes would get down, but you never had a bad time with him. He would put aside all his problems and just be in the moment. He could laugh at all his problems, and just hang. I am very sad to lose one of the great friends of my life. Houston will not be the same for me. Mike, if you are listening, thanks for the friendship and memories.
