Da Blues...
For some reason tonight, I've found myself writing about Stevie Ray Vaughan all over the place. To me, he is the best guitar player there is, was or will be in my lifetime. Of course, there are about a hundred guys in second place, but not one of them is Stevie Ray. Not only does he own my heart because of himself and his guitar playing, he'll always mean more to me than any other guitar player because of how I found out about him.
One of the best friends I've ever had in my life, in terms of having things in common and feeling the same way about stuff and understanding what can't be articulated was Anderson Wood Harris. Also known as Andy, also known as Dru.
He was (murdered) killed by an inattentive truck driver (asshole) several years ago. The jerk-off Olde Dominion driver ran a stop sign and managed to wedge Andy's truck under his trailer and drag him about a quarter of a mile up the road sideways. That Chevy pickup was buried to beyond the windshield under that fuckhole's trailer. He ground Andy's rims into the shape of the capital letter "D", at night and didn't know he'd hit anything. How the fuck do you not notice something like that? How do you miss the sparks from his rims being ground down? How did ya miss all the signs leading up to the stop sign, not to mention the stop sign itself? How did ya miss the earth-shaking bang? Probably too busy playing with his stereo, CB or dick. God, forgive me, but I hope the waste-of-humanity that (murdered) killed Andy had the decency to kill himself, too.
Any-friggin'-way....
After Andy was (murdered) killed, I spent quite a bit of time with his destroyed pickup. In it, I found a tape that Andy had made himself, of several artists he liked. We had been listening to it when we went to his GrandDad's funeral just a coupla weeks before. It had dirt in it and was beat up, but I kept it. I cleaned it up and popped it into my stereo when I thought I'd be able to handle it. I recognized most of the people he had on there; Roy Orbison, Marty Robbins...people like that. But, there was this one instrumental that I had heard before on Howard Stern's show, but I had no idea who it was. I asked a guy I knew in a band and he said "It sounds like Stevie Ray Vaughan." It was. Within a month, I owned every tape Stevie had made, two videos and a coupla books. I fell in love with the guy. The whole SRV experience was like a gift from Andy after he died (was ripped so rudely from my life). I don't think of one without the other comin' through, too and I believe they're together, somewhere, playing the blues, smokin' a doobage, waitin' for me. Andy is, anyway. He'll introduce me when I get there. The fact that both of these gifted, unique individuals were taken from us too soon by incompetant, inattentive, stupid assholes just makes them both more special to me. If ya start fuckin' with either one of them, ya get my blood up, my respect for you diminishes and I pity you for your obvious lack of brain function. If you bad-mouth Stevie, I just figure you're too ignorant to get it. Your loss. Ya fuck with Andy, you'll meet the business end of my "Pusser Club". (Yet another reason I'm glad to be out of Salem County, NJ.) (The "Pusser Club" is a signed axe handle I bought while visiting the "Buford Pusser Home and Museum". )
Someone earlier tonight (who shall remain nameless, even though he did almost piss me off-like he cares)
was saying that his favorite artist made a lot of money from a song with three chords.
So?
Stevie knew and used all the chords.
So, ppppfffftttt to ya.
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