RIP Taylor Hawkins. I was shocked last night in the midst of text-hanging with a friend who is the biggest Foo Fighters fan in my life and she basically passed out on the other end so I absentmindedly checked into Instagram only to see that his band had posted about their drummer’s demise literally one minute previous, thus letting the world know the sad news. I quoted a Foo Fighters song just a couple slices ago. Sigh.
When I heard the phenom drummer from Nirvana was fronting a band and that they’d released a single, I will always remember that my first words were, “he must have a really incredible drummer.” And he did. I wasn’t a Foos superfan but always like their music, loved the members of the band, and appreciated that they were the type of rock n roll band you don’t see much these days anymore, especially live. When I broke my almost 9 month movie theater sabbatical last week, with the Foo-loving friend I was passed out on by last night, it was to see their new horror movie. The boys played themselves and it was fun to check in with them on a campy, fun artistic endeavor and Taylor was great.
The death of a 50 year old rock star isn’t a major development in the grand scheme of the world that we currently live in. But I had a connection. He left behind, suddenly, his fans, bandmates, and a wife and children. Top of the world. He’d won. Now he’s gone.
Got me thinking about mortality. I don’t need much of a nudge these days. I woke up to another round of properties my realtor friend had found for me. She sends upward of about 8 places a day throughout the day. It started out to be an exciting prospect. Change. Growth. But more and more I’m losing faith. The market is historically bad. Or maybe it just is this now. Technically the filters spit out houses and condos and such that are where I need to be, geographically and financially. But some calculator or hidden fee derails them all eventually.
It’s hard not to look at these numbers and let the vice squeeze my head with the understanding that if I had someone to do this with it would be so simple. Have a solid place AND be able to save and build and grow. A temporary abode with an eye on the future. And a partner to help chart the course. But. That’s not reality for me. I’m moving forward with two showings tomorrow. It just feels like whatever I wind up choosing will be the place I scrape by in until my time is up here. No building. No growing. Just, what? Rotting? Imprisoned?
Because one day you’re here and the next, who knows? I know I have to do something with the unknown time I have. I’ll probably never be a rock star at this point. But even rock stars aren’t immortal. Well, not in all ways. Rest in peace, Taylor. You were a monster behind a kit and seemed like a really sweet, cool guy. Thanks for the memories, and for the eye opener. May your people find peace eventually with your moving on from this world.
“Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more”