satellite of love

let me get this shit out of the way before i talk about what i really want to talk about...

the Sunday night shows last night were excellent. i think Boardwalk Empire won out for me for the damn near perfect fight scene at the end.

my fantasy sports were up and down all yesterday. i'll know how that mixed bag turns out after the game tonight.

the New York Rangers have their home opener tonight. hopefully they get a win. Monday Night Raw should be interesting this evening after last night's ppv. and The Voice starts the knockout rounds tonight. needless to say i'll be jumping around all evening.

ok, now to the show...

i was sitting in my chair yesterday watching The Red Zone Channel as my mother was sitting at the table, reading the news off of her laptop. she casually said aloud "Lou Reed is dead." she said it so casually that i actually thought i didn't hear her correctly. i said what? and she repeated, "Lou Reed has died." i sunk down in my chair and just felt numb. immediately thought back to the years i spent in my room listening to his music and nearly every fucker that was influenced by him. i didn't really start to process it as i was so wrapped up in my fantasy football shit. but today, it's really hit me hard. i was out feeding the birds earlier, singing satellite of love and i stopped and watched the leaves start falling off the trees. i walked to the next feeder and started to cry. and then i thought about how the greats can turn sadness and grief into art. and how it's best for the rest of us to just wallow in it. that's pretty much what i've been doing today. so, a thank you to the man that made me love words, love songwriting, love drugs, love debate, love punks, love New York City, and most of all, helped give me the courage to fail. not sure how much peace you'll be getting, but you've certainly earned the rest.

music:

Lou Reed - Transformer
Lou Reed - Rock n Roll Animal
The Velvet Underground - 1969: The Velvet Underground Live with Lou Reed: Vol. 1

"I think life is far too short to concentrate on your past. I rather look into the future." - Lou Reed (March 2, 1942 - October 27, 2013)