so my music friend died on friday night.
just like that.
he's the one in the black hat on the other guitar. that guitar was my favourite one. it has a warped out of tune sweet sound. it's the one i want to burn on a pyre for him.
this isn't going to be some sort of eulogy. i'm just saying.
he was always the kind of person who liked a trip. a wild one. i guess he saw the light and thought, man, i ain't gonna miss this for anything ferrchristsakes...and lynyrd would've been there waitin', ya know?
we loved each other.
and at times we hated each other.
we played foot stompingly good music together.
he was a bi polar genius. he was either being 100% arsehole (by his own admission) or 100% charming and wildly fun. he got a kick out of always being slightly on the other side of the law. and boy did he know the rules. and the chinks in your armour. he could do your head in in a flash.
even when i hated him i always conceded he played sweet home alabama better than lynyrd skynyrd.
the man with the scythe has brushed my shoulder a few times. i can be quite philosophical about him, really. but man, everytime he's round for collection, it blows me away. i am left immeasurably sad and stunned.
yeah. so there you are. and i'll tell you something else. getting a body from tanzania back to texas is like herding cats and some....
god speed Wesley Corbett Bishop....