About Michael

Michael Ian
When you first meet Michael, you see all the obvious and ordinary teenage things. You see a teenager who’s interested in cars, music, adrenalin rushes, and, yeah, pretty girls. You see a messy room, a wrinkled Kiss t-shirt, a backpack stuffed with papers that should have been handed in two days ago. But when you talk to Michael, you find that the description “interested” doesn’t fit his attachment to the things he cares about. He is passionate and informed and educated in all sorts of things that can’t be tested or evaluated. He can tell you the name of the 1972 Pontiac model (and the color he’d like to have it in and what should have been under the hood). He can recite the lyrics—and supply the background of the artist’s intention—for the third cut song on the 1983 AC/DC album. He can make you care about dirt bikes and stray dogs and the graphics on the Transformers Xbox game. There’s something contagious about his love of life and there’s a sweetness to him that makes you lean in a bit closer when he talks. He is the person who says—and means—“Don’t worry about me. Worry about Andrew.”