Some real.
Hello, all. Just taking a moment out from our interstellar tour saga to remember an old friend and one-time band-mate who died unexpectedly this past week. I will no doubt return to the utter nonsense that is this blog's usual narrative, but right now I can't quite bring myself to do it. Just need some time for reflection, I guess. Tim Walsh played guitar with a band my brother and I started back in the seventies - a precursor to Big Green in many ways. We had about seventeen names for the group, none of which stuck. (It was a bit like Jethro Tull's early days when they played the same clubs over and over under different names - kind of a good strategy, that.) Tim was my sister's boyfriend at the time; a slightly older (at that point in life, three years made a big difference) kid from Florida who had hair down to his ass, a blackbelt in Tai Kwan Do, and a 1959 black beauty Les Paul Custom. I was young enough to look up to him in those first days. Later on, we were...