Post by dagtoking1 on Dec 22, 2006 9:14:41 GMT -5
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Friday, December 15, 2006
The Inimitable Sandy West
Well, I haven't said anything about Sandy yet, or much of anything in a while for that matter. I'd known for awhile that Sandy was not doing well, but I had moved to London and started a new job and in the craziness of London's worse heat and humidity ever, walking around for miles in the stagnating air, desperately looking for a place to live during my short time between business trips to Rome and Paris, knowing that I only had a short period of time to find something, Sandy seemed very far away. She was, in fact, very far away. Not just by virute of the 6,000 miles between California and London, but because by the time I got the message that she wasn't going to make it she was already gone.
I didn't take the news well. Not because we'd been such great friends (we hadn't), but precisely because I hadn't kept in touch much. Which has its plus side, I suppose. To me she'll always be 17 years old and ready to kick my a ss or anyone else's at a moment's notice, although really, she'd rather just beat on her drums. Anger and sadness did battle in my heart for a few days when I heard. Sadness, because no one should die of cancer at age 47 and because she'd been through so much that had never been on her agenda; anger because she'd chain smoked since before I ever met her, which was when she was 16, and when a heavy smoker dies of lung cancer it's hard not to feel that she might have held her destiny in her own hands. But that might be unfair. Addiction is a f**ked up thing and it can turn people into something they're not. One thing I do know about Sandy is that she wouldn't hurt anyone intentionally. Unintentionally, now that was another story, but it goes with the drug territory. I wish she'd had the strength to kick her habit and her disease since she was strong in so many other ways. All I can say is she would have been amazed and pleased at the outpouring of love and affection. Basically, at heart, she was a big, ole mush ball. Who could whack those drums with the best of 'em. Who knows? Maybe she's jammin' with Jimi and Janis right now.
Friday, December 15, 2006
The Inimitable Sandy West
Well, I haven't said anything about Sandy yet, or much of anything in a while for that matter. I'd known for awhile that Sandy was not doing well, but I had moved to London and started a new job and in the craziness of London's worse heat and humidity ever, walking around for miles in the stagnating air, desperately looking for a place to live during my short time between business trips to Rome and Paris, knowing that I only had a short period of time to find something, Sandy seemed very far away. She was, in fact, very far away. Not just by virute of the 6,000 miles between California and London, but because by the time I got the message that she wasn't going to make it she was already gone.
I didn't take the news well. Not because we'd been such great friends (we hadn't), but precisely because I hadn't kept in touch much. Which has its plus side, I suppose. To me she'll always be 17 years old and ready to kick my a ss or anyone else's at a moment's notice, although really, she'd rather just beat on her drums. Anger and sadness did battle in my heart for a few days when I heard. Sadness, because no one should die of cancer at age 47 and because she'd been through so much that had never been on her agenda; anger because she'd chain smoked since before I ever met her, which was when she was 16, and when a heavy smoker dies of lung cancer it's hard not to feel that she might have held her destiny in her own hands. But that might be unfair. Addiction is a f**ked up thing and it can turn people into something they're not. One thing I do know about Sandy is that she wouldn't hurt anyone intentionally. Unintentionally, now that was another story, but it goes with the drug territory. I wish she'd had the strength to kick her habit and her disease since she was strong in so many other ways. All I can say is she would have been amazed and pleased at the outpouring of love and affection. Basically, at heart, she was a big, ole mush ball. Who could whack those drums with the best of 'em. Who knows? Maybe she's jammin' with Jimi and Janis right now.
