I was wondering why people were so wigged out about Michael Jackson's death. Then I remembered...
I was watching Lynyrd Skynyrd play Freebird on the two part video from 1974 on YouTube. Despite the infinite airplay (second only to Sweet Home Alabama), it's still a great song. I don't think they ever played it the same way twice live. Then again, I don't think they played any song the same way twice live, unless it was "Sweet Home, Alabama"...
Watching them again, I was just having a blast, until it hit me all over again. In my head, I heard the announcer's voice on the radio: the plane crash, no details at first; slowly they trickled in. Dead and wounded, some survivors. What amazing guitar interplay! You can't play the song and have it sound *right* without three guitars. At least three dead, no names pending next of kin being notified. I remember the first time I saw them, opening for the Who. The song went on forever, and I never wanted it to end. Crescendo after crescendo. Ronnie's dead? Who else? Albert and Gary in bad shape? Leon may be paralyzed for life? I was stunned. I sat there and cried in the typewriter repair shop where I worked. (Yes, I cry easily for a guy. Big softie, that's me. My eyes got damp during Finding Nemo, OK?) I was inarticulate for hours. The tragedies of the rich and famous don't usually have much impact on me, but Skynyrd's music was practically a part of my soul. Just a bunch of long haired, red neck, hippy rock and rollers. Well, I was pretty much a long haired, Texas cowboy, hippy rock and roller myself, back then.[1] My homies, even though the term hadn't been invented at the time.
The kicker is that, since it's a band, not an individual, there have been several more deaths since. Each time, another bit of me feels like it died, and I grieve for all those who've gone before again.
I was always jealous of Albert's, Gary's and Leon's hair. I'm still jealous of all their chops. And Leon always had on some cool hat (I love hats).
Watching the video, I didn't exactly cry, but I did tear up. I miss those guys.
Death, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways. Nevermind, not enough time.
Ronnie and the rest who've passed on, I pray you made Heaven, and are truly free as a bird now. And one day we'll all fly free together.
[1] Still am, other than trading the hippy lifestyle for a relationship with the One who made me.
(Here's a version with some really sweet guitar work: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x34uaw_lynyrd-skynyrd-freebird-germany-197_music .)
