R.I.P Joe Alaskey

I'm too old now to pretend that 63 is a good, long life. It's clearly too short a span for a splendid vocal performer who hand-delivered me a lotta yuks in times of gloom. The prolific successor to Mel Blanc of blessed memory, Joe Alaskey was probably from space, or he wouldn't have been so believably bad as nerdy would-be world-conquering Martians like Marvin & Dr. Ziplock. Mr. Alaskey taught me to love the sound (but never the taste!) of "Corrugated Bran Puffs" as Grampa Pickles from Rugrats. Plus, not for nothing, he's got my vote for immortality as the unlikeable yet unkillable Duck Dodgers. Joe Alaskey- a talent to remember beyond the 24th & a Half Century.

R.I.P. Alan Rickman

Because the universe is not always fair, cancer continues to destroy Englishmen I admire. 

Doctor Lazarus, Metatron, Marvin the Paranoid Android, & Severus Snape will always be deeply memorable and valuable to me and many millions of you.

I don't have the right words of my own for my sadness lately, and now I don't have the Voice of God to speak the snark for me, either. I fear that being older means losing all my heroes. And I'm forced to remind myself that nothing and no energy and no one loved is ever truly lost.

By Grabthar's hammer, by the suns of Warvan, you shall be avenged!

R.I.P. David Bowie

I can't claim special knowledge of The Man Who Fell To Earth, but I am bummed out that he's fallen off it again.

Thanks to Guardians of the Galaxy, I've listened to 'Moonage Daydream' a lot lately. I'm full of doing my own thing and I didn't even know David Bowie was sick, so it goes to show you can snap your fingers and turn around... and lose something important in a moment. It's only forever- not long at all.

My wife rightly suggested we revisit 'Labyrinth' tonight, and it remains a wonder and a delight. Sing sadly tonight for a troubador, performer, space oddity, and Goblin King.