“Oh, baby don’t it feel like heaven right now
Don’t it feel like something from a dream”
Tom Petty‘s in heaven, and we’re dreaming, but it’s a nightmare.
I woke up to the Las Vegas tragedy. And what’s so weird is I was with one of the touring honchos last night discussing this possibility and he said it was just a matter of when.
And I saw Tom Petty, live, in the flesh, JUST TEN DAYS AGO!
So I’m at lunch with my mother, at Brent’s Deli in Northridge. She came out for Yom Kippur. I’m hoping she’s written in the book of the living. With her marbles intact. And my phone, which I’d turned to vibrate, since I wanted my mom to know I was paying total attention, started to go berserk. And ultimately I told her to hold on a second, I slipped my plus-sized device from my pocket and was confronted with a text on the home screen, “Is Tom Petty now dead?”
Huh? There are people who are ill, people who are aged, but like I said, I just saw Tom last week, it did not compute!
I didn’t believe it. The internet is laden with rumors. I told my mother to give me a minute. I searched for news.
And then I found the TMZ story.
And TMZ never gets it wrong. They’d be sued out of existence. Tom had cardiac arrest, he was brain dead, and…
I still did not believe it.
I don’t know what your life is based upon. I don’t know what it’s about. The sixties were about sports, my transistor told the stories of Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford and Tony Kubek. I dreamed of playing in the big leagues.
And then the Beatles hit.
There’s been nothing like it since. I wasn’t the only one. It happened to Petty too.
Just like the nineties, when everybody bought a computer to play on AOL, everybody bought a guitar, formed a band, we were infatuated with the music.
And our heroes were British.
But in the seventies…
The Americans penetrated.
Petty wasn’t there first, but by time he broke through…
He had history, he had gravitas, he had insight, he was the antithesis of a prepubescent rocker – all poses and no substance. He’d lived, played bars, gone to shows, and when he finally put out a record…
It was the one he wanted to make.
Those are the ones that last. Not the ones made for a market, chasing a hit, but personal statements, of truth.
Have you ever heard “Luna”? It sounds like a steamy night on a rooftop, that’s what music does best, not tell a story, but instigate your own, set your mind free to remember, to think, to envelop yourself in this thing we call life.
But now Tom Petty is dead. How can this be? Continue reading