I cried with the loss of each of these gods that walked amongst us. I mean, literally, tears down the cheeks cried. Each one, for me, sang the songs my Soul could not, and so brought to light the suffering and joy that had to that point remained hidden in the dark.
And, oh, there were others: Glenn Frey of the Eagles. Paul Kantner of Jefferson Airplane. Maurice White of Earth Wind and Fire. Keith Emerson of ELP.
I mourn the loss of all these astounding musicians, and how the world is left as if it were a bit drier in the midst of a drought. Perhaps my tears will water the soil of the Soul to bring forth a new garden of gods.
And Kurt Cobain, Tom Petty, George Harrison, John Prine, Peter Green, Jerry Jeff Walker, David Crosby, Neil Peart, Dicky Betts, Robbie Robertson, Jeff Beck, Chick Corea, Greg Lake....
What a wonderful ride to have been alive to experience the genius of these giants.
That will get him a ticket reminding us all of the "noble wild" (Injun), who deserved to be eradicated from the map by us humans (i.e. us rich, white scum) and our completely artificial values, laws, and rules in opposition to nature's flow.
Charlie Byrd, the eminent jazz guitarist, lived in Annapolis MD and had a long-running gig at the Maryland Inn. A classy, small room place with limited and tightly packed seating at breadboard sized tables. In 1981 GF and I went to hear him there. The room was quite dark when we were seated. I soon noticed diagonally from me at the next table was a very beautiful woman, but I didn't notice her male companion seated about two feet from my right (yes, really packed). At a brief pause between numbers our drink orders were taken and I heard the man in this unmistakable and memorable Scottish burr speak his cocktail order. Yes, Sean Connery. Over the next 90 minutes the four of us would chat briefly during pauses and the very short intermission. Mostly we spoke about our admiration for Charlie Byrd. He seemed a gracious and witty guy with good taste in music. GF and I got a fun evening with great music and this story. RIP, Sean Connery.
Charlie Byrd, the eminent jazz guitarist, lived in Annapolis MD and had a long-running gig at the Maryland Inn. A classy, small room place with limited and tightly packed seating at breadboard sized tables. In 1981 GF and I went to hear him there. The room was quite dark when we were seated. I soon noticed diagonally from me at the next table was a very beautiful woman, but I didn't notice her male companion seated about two feet from my right (yes, really packed). At a brief pause between numbers our drink orders were taken and I heard the man in this unmistakable and memorable Scottish burr speak his cocktail order. Yes, Sean Connery. Over the next 90 minutes the four of us would chat briefly during pauses and the very short intermission. Mostly we spoke about our admiration for Charlie Byrd. He seemed a gracious and witty guy with good taste in music. GF and I got a fun evening with great music and this story. RIP, Sean Connery.
We're all older than Wilford Brimley was when he was in Coccoon.
Yeah, I always thought that was odd that he was only 50 when he did that film. They grayed his hair and did make-up to make him look older. He was good in "The Thing".
We're all older than Wilford Brimley was when he was in Coccoon.
Cat couldn't scratch it...
Wilford used to live over in the next county (near where Kanye just bought another ranch). He used to make appearances at the Greybull/Ten Sleep boy scouts or FFA fundraisers just to get butts in the seats. Show up, have a Pepsi, visit with the folks then duck out. Wouldn't it be cool to be able to bring thousands of dollars in just by walking through a room? Not a posh area, but pretty with semiarid scrub pine and sagebrush and dinosaurs ... but a few years ago decided it would be better for him to live closer to 2-story hospital.
Something always just seemed familiar about him. Never saw this. Happens to be first song I learned to play on harmonica a long time ago.
We're all older than Wilford Brimley was when he was in Coccoon.
Cat couldn't scratch it...
Wilford used to live over in the next county (near where Kanye just bought another ranch). He used to make appearances at the Greybull/Ten Sleep boy scouts or FFA fundraisers just to get butts in the seats. Show up, have a Pepsi, visit with the folks then duck out. Wouldn't it be cool to be able to bring thousands of dollars in just by walking through a room? Not a posh area, but pretty with semiarid scrub pine and sagebrush and dinosaurs ... but a few years ago decided it would be better for him to live closer to 2-story hospital.
