“Ronnie James Dio died.” That was the e-mail from Kristine.
It barely registered. It was too out of the blue, and too horrible to make sense. But I went off and found an article, and by the end of the article, it had sunk in. He’s been battling stomach cancer for a year now and lost that battle this morning. He was 67 years old.
I’m shattered and heartbroken (and have “Stand up and Shout” playing at the moment, off of Holy Diver). He’s one of my favorites, one of my top handful of musicians. I have others I do listen to more sometimes, but the only other musician who would crush me in a similar fashion is Alice Cooper, if he passed (please, no, thanks).
He was a rock god. He gave us devil horns. And he produced some of the best songs of the past thirty years. I’ll miss ‘im.
It always scares the utter shit out of me, when something like this happens. I don’t subscribe to the unspoken young person idea that you can just do whatever, you’ve got all the time in the world. Maybe I’m just fatalistic, but I’m always aware that I don’t have that much time. None of us do, really. Well, we’ve got a lifetime. I think we all vaguely assume (when we’re young, I suspect) that we’ve all got a hundred years, or more, and even that’s just this massive number.
But you don’t, necessarily. He was only 67. That’s just not that old. Who knows what’s going to happen.
It always scares the shit out of me and leaves me thinking “you had better get it into gear” for awhile.
Sigh. Well, here’s a song for you.