I'm posting this late in the day on the 26th, so you might call this "A Year and a Day". I'll just call it a year though.
Back in the '70s, one of the best songwriters of the era laid down an epic track, celebrating the music and mourning the loss of Buddy Holly. American Pie, by Don McLean remains high in the pantheon of superior songs, and it is a fitting parallel to this annerversary.
The Day the MuseSick Died.
For that atrocious pun alone, Rob would have me dragged off and shot.
I can think of less praiseworthy forms of demise. Seriously, I can picture Rob chortling and laughing his patented "Buwahahaa!" as he'd watch me trooped off to the post and blindfold for Abuse of the English Language.
A few days short of one year ago, I wrote this eulogy in tribute to a man who's impact on my life is mirrored in the lives of dozens of other writers, and quite literally, thousands of other readers.
My closing words from that year-ago eulogy are no less fitting today, than then.
Now, a final word. I've been as maudlin, emotionally torn-up and just flat-out shattered at Rob's demise as imaginable. I've shared tears with friends on the phone, swapped some war-stories of Rob and most sadly, have been the bearer of the bad news to three who had not yet read of his death. Those were the worst moments of all.
But now, it's time to move on. Rob wrote often of his football days, of playing through the pain, of hustling through the hurt. So, we've got it to do.
Life goes on. Shitty things in the news which would've pissed Rob off still need ranting. The laughable idiocy of the Left still need lampooning. Bourbon needs be sipped, cigars need be smoked, hogs must be roasted and fresh green peanuts need their boiling.
It falls to us to do all that, lest we be dragged off and shot.
Goodbye, Rob. Adios, Acidman, you cranky old bastard.
Sloop New Dawn
And to that, may I get an Amen?
Updated, ten minutes after initial post:
Some of you might wish to revisit what many other bloggers had to say a year ago. Ain't none of us going to fill the hole Rob left. None, of us.