Warren Zevon died on Sunday. He was 56. Diagnosed with terminal lung cancer last August, he was able to spend much of the last year working on his musical epitaph, The Wind, released just last month. Astute Heathen will note it was Zevon who gave us the title for my dove hunting essay of several years ago (reposted last week).
Obits:
And a quote (from the Billboard obit):
In a candid interview with Billboard last year, Zevon — who had addressed death with frankness and caustic amusement frequently during the course of his 30-year career — joked that he wanted to live long enough to see the latest James Bond film. Once a Hollywood wild man of legendary reputation, Zevon had been sober for nearly 18 years and quit smoking almost five years ago. When he was asked last year what he does while staring death in the eye, Zevon replied by saying, “Work.” “Harder, hopefully with some focus,” Zevon said. “I’m working a lot every day. I already have great relationships with my children … I’ve already led two lives. I got to be a wild, crazy, Jim Morrison quasi-rock star, anyway, and I got to be a sober dad for 18 years. I can’t possibly complain.”