I've watched a lot of my friends die, everyone from John Belushi, River Phoenix to Chris Farley. It just keeps going on and on.
It's redundant to die in Los Angeles.
We don't really know who killed Martin Luther King. We don't really know who killed Bobby Kennedy. We don't really know who killed John Kennedy. We don't really know who killed Tupac Shakur.
I definitely know that I play the part, however big or small, in the deaths of at least two people, Chris Farley and Phil Hartmann.
I will miss my pal Dominick Dunne. I am sure his funeral will be just the sort of event he would have loved. Based on who will be there, I am sure he wishes he could have been there to cover it.
Do you remember where you were when Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett died?
The reason the rest of us remember, like, when John Lennon died, is because it's a moment when adrenaline is surging.
Americans respect talent only insofar as it leads to fame, and we reserve our most fervent admiration for famous people who destroy their lives as well as their talent. The fatal flaws of Elvis, Judy, and Marilyn register much higher on our national applause meter than their living achievements. In Amerca, talent is merely a tool for becoming famous in life so you can become more famous in death - where all are equal.
Quick. Name ten dead redheads.
What makes the most money for this business? Dead rock stars.
I had to tell the city that 2Pac passed, and I had to be on the radio early after Biggie passed. Those were awful, emotional.
You know who would make an interesting murder-suicide? Madeline Albright and Yanni.
Peter Cook and Dudley Moore were friends and the last people I expected would predecease me. They were, in a sense, casualties of fame.
I remember that, before John Lennon died, everyone was saying that Rolling Stone couldn't do good reporting anymore. But when he died, they wrote this amazing issue, as they should have about Lennon. They did that when Elvis died, too.
Most people are dead. Hitler. Ray Charles. Some other guys. But mostly those two.
Is this year over yet? Too many people are passing away. Rest In Peace, George Michael.
I honestly feel that because Steve has passed, you know, it's like when Biggie passed and Jay-Z was allowed to become Jay-Z.
After the shooting of John Lennon and the early death of so many great stars and the utter naked venal mercantile marketing of pop music and rock music, I don't think anyone really believes that music is anything more than another commodity.
