The first time I heard my favorite rockstar, Gram Parsons,
wail "every time I hear your name I wanna DIE!!" it was love at
first listen. GP was just 26 years old when he overdosed
in this very room in 1973. 33 years later, just after my 25th
birthday, I slept in his bed, strummed him a tune, did a shot of
tequila, and put
on a little show for him -- because what earthly delights would you
miss more than girls 'n' booze?? I think he appreciated it, because
as I was getting ready to undress, I said to my photographer,
"I think we better close the door now!" and, on a windless day,
it instantly slammed shut! No joke. Thanks Gram! This is my tribute
to GP, the one and only Grievous Angel,
pioneer of Cosmic American Music...May your legend live on.
p.s. We'll sweep out the ashes in the morning...