Death is insane. You work your entire life to build, to understand to excel, and then without warning someone pulls the plug and you are gone. The question arises, “Why do anything.” And I realize the lack of ambition may have it’s roots in wisdom. A good friend, John Garwood, died last week. Out of the blue. Of course, last time I saw him play in LA he was coughing bad. But it was something you don’t really dwell on. Especially with a guy like John. I knew he was stubborn as all hell and a born rebel. John was not one to comply. Or care about anything but music. He was a mixture of extreme focus and discipline and a total lack of any worry or care. His own band , Mr Ectomy had achieved a lot of local success doing a amazing avant-garde kind of progressive rock Zappa thing. Then he would play pretty straight rock with my band. A total partier, but always a total pro musically. I don’t think I’ve been thrown out of more bars with anyone but John. And it wasn’t for being rowdy , we just loved to drink and didn’t really have stop buttons. I guess that’s the final lesson . Even if you don’t have your own stop button , life will eventually provide you with one.
Death Is Insane
Wandering around the internet this morning, I came across the news that John Garwood had died. It hurt. I didn’t know him well, but my buddy Big Dave and I used to go see Mr. Ectomy a lot back when. Was especially fond of those all-weekend shows out in the desert or that old ski hill up the 2. John was exceptionally talented, and a genuinely nice guy. Dave and I befriended him, and he spent a fair amount of time with us. I skydive, and dropzones are often a bit off the beaten path and have land space, so we were trying to set up a show at one of them. We didn’t quite pull it off because I really didn’t know what I was doing, but John was into it and willing to help. I am genuinely saddened by the news, even if I’m late to the knowing. Condolences to you and all who knew him.
As an aside, I’ve been jumping since the late 70’s, and through the 80’s, DC-3’s were a common jump plane. I’ve got God knows how many flights in, and jumps out of them. The baddest airplane ever built, the Harley-Davidson of the sky. The picture at the top of your page is a ‘3. That’s a bad-ass picture, and if you could find your way to email me a clear copy of it, that would be much appreciated.
In any case, I hope all is well with you, and know that your friend John is well remembered.
John was one of my best friends. We played in bands and hung out a lot. It was a horrible loss. He was a genuine good guy and tough as nails. Amazing musician and dedicated to his craft. So sorry he’s gone….thanks for dropping a note.