I'm at something of a loss for what to say about Warren Zevon, but I surely can't let his passing go unremarked. He's too important in my mental landscape for that. Forgive me then if I start to ramble.
I should have had something in mind for the occassion. It's not like we didn't know it was coming. Yet it didn't feel right planning an obit for Mr. Bad Example. Maybe the doctors underestimated him. Maybe he'll last another year, make even one more album. Ah well.
Today, "The Envoy" comforts me best of his lot. I've always loved this boyish intellectual macho. Oh, yeah, he was a badass diplomat, with diplomatic immunity to use that lethal weapon that no one can see. If he weren't sick, he could have probably gone in and strong-armed Saddam personally. Hell, Warren might even have been able to make peace amongst all the Blogcritics. Well, let's not get TOO crazy.
"My Shit's Fucked Up" does not get the notice that it deserves. He wrote it about five years ago, a while before his cancer was diagnosed. It was probably the best melody he'd written in a decade. It also had that unique emotional duality of his best work, a strong dose of humor based on great emotional dis-ease. There is an ultimate equality at work, though: the rich folks suffer like the rest of us. "I went to the doctor. I said I'm feeling kind of rough. 'Let me break it to you son, your shit's fucked up.'" I like to play this at birthdays.
Down here on the farm, of course "Play It All Night Long" works real good blasting out of a pickup kicking up dust through the Rabbit Holler. "There ain't much to country living but piss, shit, jizz and blood." Warren, you wrote my life.
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