15 years ago today I was in Vancouver on Easter Holidays when my uncle came into the room and shattered my reality."Did ya hear? Kurt Cobain blew his brains out!"
"Nooooooooooooooo!" And I softly wept and wrote a poem two days later.
I remember watching Much Music straight for the next 48 hours. Until the memorial when Courtney "I didn't hire anyone to kill my husband" Love had us all call him an "asshole" really loud. I wasn't there, but I felt like I was.
Now I am officially older than Kurt Cobain was when he "killed himself." I am more than twice the age I was when I found out he "died." Yet I am still feeling the loss- somewhat. It's more that I think it's a shame that it all happened. It's a shame that Pearl Jam is still around-ish. It's a shame that so many famous people have to die when they are 27 because that leaves me feeling useless and old. What have I done?
Yeah, thanks Kurt. Thanks for being my idol and then showing me how I've wasted my life! Thanks a lot.
Ok, just kidding. Come back ok? You can Elvis can come out of hiding and we'll all have a party. Ok? Ok? Cool.
But I sure do wish I could be at your park for the memorial and observe the magic of 14 year old grunge rockers today shedding tears, writing you messages and leaving you flowers in that suburban neighborhood of Seattle.
1 comment:
Do you think he was murdered then? I thought it was a mercy killing.
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