One More Time for the World…

It is 11:15 on Christmas Eve as I’m writing this.  I’ve made it in just under the wire.  This is a small, but I like to think a NICE tradition for me.  A few Christmas Eves ago, a friend of mine died from Hodgkin’s Disease.  Earlier today—as I do every Christmas Eve—I listened to some music his band recorded back in the 90s, when cassettes were king.  And now, as always…

Here’s to you, Paul.  I still miss you.  I still think of you almost every time I plug in a bass and turn knobs trying to find the sound I’m looking for—YOUR sound.  Thanks for always making time for me when I was a geeky, awkward teenager.  Thanks for always letting me play your bass for a while when I showed up at your gigs.  Thanks for giving me your phone number last time we bumped into one another.  Sorry I didn’t get around to calling.  And thanks for being part of a band I loved, and for playing a really mean harmonica.  Merry Christmas, man.


Thanks for indulging me again in that kinda sad, kinda sweet tradition.  And just to break up the maudlin vibe…here’s a picture of me on a Christmas long ago, being very happy about getting Skeletor’s castle as a gift.

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