Dusty Hill, the bassist from long time rock/blues band ZZ Top, died yesterday. I was profoundly sad to hear the news. Sure, they could have been less raunchy. Yet few of us are without sin, not that that excuses it, and boy, they could drive a beat.
Sharp Dressed Man is one of my favorite songs ever. Every girl's crazy about one, right? Not that I've been to that many concerts but their performance at the Michigan State Fair back 2005 (August 17, according to Wikipedia; who knew concert tours could have Wikipedia pages?) was the best live show I've ever seen.
One of the bad things about getting older, and I hope this doesn't sound flippant because I mean to be serious, is that more people die. Yet a kind of good can come out of that. It makes you remember the past more vividly. I can actually see and hear them performing, and amazingly clearly, from that night 16 years ago. How and why my son Charlie and I decided to go, I think it was rather last minute, I don't recall. But I'm glad we went.
Dusty just left Houston. I hope he meets Jesus coming down from Chicago. Rest in Peace, man.
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