Leonard Cohen goes west

November 10, 2016November 10, 2016 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 13 Comments

I'm not saying alive, I'm not saying dead. — I’m not saying alive, I’m not saying dead.

Gassho, bhikkhu.

• A final interview with The New Yorker.

• From Lion’s Roar: “Leonard Cohen burns, and we burn with him.”

• His obit in The New York Times.

A moment of not exactly silence

September 11, 2016 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 15 Comments

Hell sucks

June 25, 2016June 25, 2016 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments

You may never have read "Dispatches" by Michael Herr, but chances are you've shared some of his experiences at the cinema, in "Platoon," "Apocalpyse Now" or "Full Metal Jacket." — You may never have read “Dispatches” by Michael Herr, but chances are you’ve shared some of his experiences at the cinema, in “Platoon,” “Apocalpyse Now” or “Full Metal Jacket.”

Michael Herr deserves his own post, if only for “Dispatches,” a work I’ve mentioned here before.

He went to Vietnam for Esquire, not for Uncle Sam, and he had to have a breakdown before he finished the book for which he would be best known.

If you saw “Apocalypse Now,” you’ve heard his work (he wrote the narration). You got some more of it in “Full Metal Jacket” (he wrote the screenplay with Gustav Hasford, author of “The Short-Timers,” for his friend Stanley Kubrick).

But “Dispatches” was the real deal. Seventies reportage from the scene, slightly fictionalized, deeply admired, by the king of Gonzo journalism, Hunter S. Thompson, and by me, too.

Rest in peace, Mr. Herr.

Extra-credit reading

• “Hell Sucks,” which became part of “Dispatches,” reprinted in its entirety at Esquire.

• “Breathing In,” also from “Dispatches,” excerpted by NPR.

• Herr’s New York Times obit.

• A remembrance by Graydon Carter.

• A 2000 interview in The Guardian by fellow war correspondent Ed Vulliamy.

R.I.P., Merle Haggard

April 6, 2016April 6, 2016 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 27 Comments

A workin’ man finally clocks out. During one drink-and-drug-soaked road trip I played one of his “greatest hits” tapes so often that my copilot yanked it out of the deck and threw it out the window.

I let him live. I didn’t want to turn 21 in prison doing life without parole. ‘Cause Mama tried.

Sixty-two … something

March 28, 2016March 28, 2016 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 16 Comments

The proof is in the pudding ... or, in this case, on the Cateye. — The proof is in the pudding … or, in this case, on the Cateye.

Well, I didn’t manage 62 miles on my birthday. Nor did I ride 62 kilometers.

How’s 62 minutes sound to you?

Yeah, sounds that way to me, too.

But this morning I managed a run that lasted exactly half that time, and I reckon that’s the equivalent of 62 minutes on the bike. So I got that going for me, which is nice.

It wasn’t an entirely unproductive birthday. My burro-racing pal Hal Walter has expressed interest in doing a podcast, so I broke out all the old hardware and software and gave myself a refresher course in Podcasting 101.

Everything still works — though what Apple has done to GarageBand while I was otherwise occupied is matched only by what they’ve done to iMovie — and we may do a short test run tomorrow, if time, Skype and Call Recorder permit.

If we actually manage to slap something together, I’ll give you the 411 on the sumbitch. Expect it to be heavy on the works of Jim Harrison.