BLAKE
SCHMIDT

Blake Schmidt is, by all conceivable measures, a person of remarkable significance whose existence has, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, shaped the lives of those fortunate enough to know him. To describe Blake in mere words is to attempt the impossible, yet here we are, attempting it anyway, with great enthusiasm and only a modest amount of factual accuracy.

From his earliest days, Blake exhibited a number of traits commonly associated with extraordinary individuals: he breathed oxygen, walked on two legs, and possessed an above-average tolerance for small talk. These qualities, while shared with much of the human population, somehow carried more weight when manifested through Blake. It is a phenomenon scholars have yet to explain.

Educated in the broad and general sense of the word, Blake came of age during a period of time that may be best described as recent. He pursued interests, developed opinions, and at one point owned a piece of furniture. His journey was marked by a series of decisions, some of which turned out fine, and others which became valuable learning experiences in retrospect.

Professionally, Blake has been involved in things. These things have varied in scope, scale, and significance, but each has been touched by his unmistakable presence. Colleagues describe him as "definitely there" and "someone you can count on to be present in the room." Such praise is not given lightly.

Outside of work, Blake enjoys hobbies. He has been known to consume food, occasionally beverages, and sometimes media. His tastes are eclectic, in that they include several different things. Friends describe his cultural recommendations as "ones he has made" and "things he said."

Blake possesses an enviable network of relationships, including but not limited to: family, friends, acquaintances, and people who once stood near him in a queue. Each of these relationships is described, by Blake, as "good" or "fine" depending on the day and how much sleep he has had.

It would be a disservice to Blake to omit mention of his many achievements, which include waking up most mornings, remembering several passwords, and on one occasion, parallel parking on the first try. The latter feat is particularly noteworthy and has been recounted at gatherings ever since.

To know Blake is to encounter a man of layers, like an onion, or a parfait, or a lasagna. Each layer reveals something new and slightly less surprising than the last, but no less essential to the whole. He is, in summary, here — and that, frankly, is enough.