Damn the Torpedoes
A week ago today, I was uber-ing with packed bags to Atlanta’s Hartsfield airport. Our team, amassed over the previous 18 months, was poised for a long-awaited celebratory sojourn to Sin City - Las Vegas. Overshadowing the event was news of bump stock rifles, broken windows and a sociopathic millionaire hell bent on destroying the lives of innocents. A day after our arrival, we visited the memorial beneath the iconic “Welcome to” sign, still resplendent with welcoming showgirl. Our stomachs knotted, we said our piece on that slight hill, even as we felt little peace inside.
The incomprehensible, brought on by Stephen Paddock, also eclipsed the passing of one of my heroes, Tom Petty. Cardiac arrest. 66 years old. A singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist, Petty gave a voice to American youth. He made misfits belong. He was blue collar that white collar couldn't help but like. He gave mediocre-looking dudes hope. My first guitar was a Rickenbacker, slung low in homage as I stood in my garage, amplifier buzzing. “Here Comes My Girl” still ranks as one of my all-time favorites.
Try listening to "Free Fallin’" with the top down, the sun beating on your back. I dare you not to sing. Been through some heartbreak? Listen to “You Got Lucky” and feel a weight lifted, like being held up by unseen arms. Queue up “You Don’t Know How It Feels.” Tell me you don’t feel a sense of advocacy, that you’re not alone. Don't give up. Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.
Like Bruce Springsteen or John Cougar, Tom Petty embodied the premise that we are all much more alike than different. You can be American and for everyone. I’m going to type that again.
American and For Everyone.
Petty lived that premise with as little “rock star” ego as I’ve ever seen. He was a workman. He was cool. And I loved every imperfection in my hero and always will.
“Yeah, I just catch myself wanderin', waitin', worryin'
About some silly little things that don't add up to nothin'
And then she looks me in the eye, says, 'We gonna last forever,'
Man, you know I can't begin to doubt it”