Hey Mr. Death, do you have a quota to meet this year? The higher-ups been sweating you? Seriously dude, is there some sort of really cool show in the afterlife that you are trying to book? Because you have been taking all the cool people lately, especially here in Houston. In the past month or so, we have lost Poor Dumb Bastards guitarist
Hunter Ward,
,
Marvin Zindler– come on now, how was he
notrock and roll? – and
Uncle John Turner.
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I didn’t plan on being in Austin this weekend. But seeing as I got “divorced” on Thursday night (yeah, the “Hilary Duff” girl from my Wack article), I packed up the blog-mobile Saturday and headed to Sixth Street to see our Fatal Flying Guillotines tear up Emo’s. As I regained consciousness somewhere in a gutter Sunday, I heard that Port Neches native Lee Hazlewood had passed away that very “velvet” morning. I immediately found a record store to get me some majestic and ornate Lee for the drive home. I didn’t know he wrote “Houston,” which Dean Martin later recorded. I recommend his entire catalog, even swan song Cake or Death.
As I pulled out onto that winding stretch of Highway 71, I realized that even with the hurt and gloom you may bring, Mr. Death, you always somehow bring a ray of sunshine to those left behind to rebuild. Now, if you could just lay low for awhile, we’d all appreciate it. Go kill some mosquitoes or something. – Craig Hlavaty
Here’s Dino....
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