I guess this is what happens to you as you get older. People die. Hey! That's expected, even down-right polite. But I keep missing them!

Gene Siskel went down the toilet without a word. It was six months before I knew about his passing. I was watchin' the tube on a Saturday, Roger was hanging with a homey I didn't know. One thing lead to another and bang, the foundation of my life, Gene arguing with Roger about a stupid movie, became a chasm of disillusionment and despair (albeit a tiny one). To be left out of such a public event by the entirety of society! I was indignant.

A couple years pass. I'm filling in the cracks in my foundation--I have a job, a girlfriend, an IRA, soon I plan on running for president. Then, SHABAM! Joe Strummer. D-E-A-D--Not a noise from the neighbor, save the thunder of love--not a squeak from the radio. Nada.

I feel betrayed. I feel left. I feel dumped. What's the point of mortality if I can't celebrate it in all it's juicy, gory, slutty, public splendor.

Sigh. Adios, Joe. It was fun while it lasted.