It's a Bit Early, but I was Just Thinking of You...

I will never forget the day Kurt Cobain died.

I was walking out of the house, to see what my dad was doing in the yard. It must have been really warm, I was only wearing grubby jeans and my Jesus and Mary Chain t-shirt. I do remember the sun shining, and the snow was almost gone. I couldn't see dad, but CBC radio was blaring from the radio in the garage, so he had to be within ear shot.

"Smells Like Teen Spirit" started to play, and I heard the DJ say, "Stay tuned to CBC news on the hour for more information on Kurt Cobain's tragic death".

A few seconds later, the on-the-hour CBC "beep, beeeeep, BEEEEEP" came, and I don't remember much after that, other than standing in the middle of the garage, dumbfounded, trying not to drop to my knees.

I cried a lot the next couple days, alone in my room. I still cry at times, when I think of how sad I was at that time, and how music made me feel like I wasn't alone.

A couple years later, I watched my brother become a fan of Nirvana, and I watched him feel the way I had felt. People worried about the sad Kurt Cobain posters on his bedroom wall, and worried that he was just as sad. I'm sure he was.

One night, as my parents were busy worrying about him, and the cops were worrying about his Nirvana posters, I locked my bedroom door, and pretended that nothing was going on. I smoked a few cigarettes, had a hoot, and cranked up some John Lennon on my stereo.

I was hoping to send a subtle message. I don't think it got through.

But music saved him too.

Our artists suffer, so we don't have to.