Folks who really knew him said his songs told stories and a lot of them were autobiographical. "Desperados Under the Eaves" recounted a time early on in his career when he was so broke he couldn't afford to pay his hotel bill. A buddy of his pulled up around back, and Warren snuck out the bathroom window. He returned years later to try and square things, but the hotel settled for a an autographed copy of one of his albums.
Zevon wrote the song, "Lawyers, Guns, and Money", on the back of wet cocktail napkins "after a long day of improbable and grotesque mischief," and it brings to mind a gloriously misspent youth. Growing up in Long Beach, MS, I pulled some pretty boneheaded stunts. From the fairly mild shooting bottle rockets at passing cars to the somewhat wilder drag racing on neighborhood streets, there were a gamut of typical teenage shenanigans. On a couple of occasions I was involved in the "unauthorized borrowing" of a sailboat. Oh, don't forget that neighborhood venture where a few dozen trees were chopped down (illegally) to build a log cabin fort.
Fast forward a few years to that episode at the Grand Canyon, or that incident in the back of my buddy's Jeep. And we can't forget when I accidentally found myself in an active minefield - in Cuba.
I can recount several distinct times I could have found myself in very deep kimchee. However, much to my relief - or maybe chagrin - I've never had to call anyone and say, "Send lawyers, guns, and money."
Hunter S. Thompson, a close acquaintance of Zevon, said, “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming 'Wow! What a Ride!'”
Here's to a life well lived and lived to the fullest. Rock on!
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