Damn it.

I was sad when Bowie died. I was sad when Prince died. But Tom Petty? Damn. It's an entirely different thing. Tom Petty could have been my friend. He could have hung out with me and Nick Rudd. He could have stood with me at the base of the stairs at Mabel's. Tom Petty could have been one of mine. It's totally different.

I'm sad.

Ernie cried.

Owen cried.

Leo looked sympathetic and said he was sorry.

It's just different.

And of course, in some ways, Todd Snider put it best... "piles and piles and piles of Tom Petty"

It was such a fantastic weekend and then we woke up to the Las Vegas news and then Tom Petty. When we got home a certain 15 year old was kind of an asshole but when he came down to drive Ernie in the bug to pick up dinner (because I'm not cooking) I realized how heartbroken he was about Tom Petty.

Damn. Life is hard for all of us.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Of course Ernie bought the first album. But me? I heard Refugee on some Chicago radio station and I bought the cassette before I headed off to college.

Damn.