I have only recently started emerging from the fog of it all.
We all lost Lemmy.
You lost a hero and a friend.
I lost a dear old friend, a hero, a major influence and a role model. He taught me that my lifestyle, that of living and working within my own hours, was possible, that I just needed courage and a fierce dedication to my work. It was hard.
Saturday night - My neighbor Rich is a great guy. He works in cancer research and is the first to step up and offer any help a needy friend or family might have in this area, and he’s also a fun guy to be around when it comes to music. Oh, he also likes beer and sport. Before any of you ask, he’s married hahahahahaha! ANYWAY, I digress. Rich likes to have friends over to hang out, listen to tunes, eat food and drink beer. Tonight will be a special event, in so much as it is a gathering of the local Books, Bands & Brews club he and our buddy Todd have going, and the focus tonight is Led Zeppelin. We will discuss two books written about the band, the infamous Stephen Davis epic Hammer of The Gods and UK writer Mick Wall’s warty and occasionally fictionalized hike through the myriad of myths and truths around the Zep-entity (sharks, groupies, jets, drugs, devil worship and dark arts oh and a few large-ish gigs to throw out just a few things from Led Zeppelin’s life).
The words wouldn’t come.
I sat in suspension.
I laughed about a few things I knew, things which would’ve made him raise an eye-brow and crack a grin, and memories came and went in no order.
The time Phil Campbell and I were sent back to Brixton Academy post-gig to retrieve ‘an important thing’ Lemm had left behind in the dressing room (two sliced-white, cellophane-wrapped cheese sandwiches).
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