papsrus

That's very sad. It sounds so cliché, but wtf is wrong with people who would do this to another human being?

I'll confess, I bought it. And enjoyed it. I just didn't sign on for the thirty year cruise...

Nice article. Thanks for posting. I give the guy a lot of credit for challenging certain assumptions in his approach(es) to the music. I only have his Ivey-Divey, which I dig. The other stuff of his that I've heard strikes me as always interesting, but hasn't always immediately connected, with me anyways. But again, I respect the guy's approach. Always have meant to get Bug Music. I'll add it to the list (again).

Have a great birthday!

I've heard of him. He's had endless hit albums in America. I've never heard him but, from a glance at some of the titles of his songs, I guess he's a satirist (whether intentional or not I don't know). But titles like "Desperation samba (Halloween in Tijuana)"; "Elvis imitators"; "Cultural infidel"; and "Perrier blues" do suggest something like that to me. But I've seen a photo of him wearing a Jack McDuff type of sailor's hat, which doesn't go well with satire (or not obviously). Can someone start a trhead about this mystry man, whose records have probably never been released in Britain? MG Oh no. ... What have I done?!

truer words have never been spoken Yeah, he's on the album AND in the movie. I didn't want to mention it. Make of that what you will. And he's very probably the richest person from the album. Make of THAT what you will. Oh yeah, he's wealthy. Don't let the frayed cutoffs and straw hats that he puts on backstage fool ya. His restaurant chain and merchandising of the whole Key West image thing is a cash cow, I'm sure. He's completely Disney-fied. And he's managed to do this on the back of simply awful and formulaic music. He's a sharp business man though, I'll give him that.

That's a pretty good argument.

85! Wonderful!! Happy birthday.

Senior citizens who whistle, huh? Ours mainly just shuffle along with their heads down, coming to a full stop every 10 feet or so to lecture anyone in the vicinity about how much better things are done "up north."

Almost (ALMOST!) any band that was around in the '70s and is still touring today in some form or another is almost by default an embarrassment. We've all moved on, why can't they? Maybe because they never believed in the music in the first place. They're perfectly happy playing the same damn songs for the 8 trillionth time just to make their nut. One of the worst offenders, in my book, is Jimmy Buffet. His lyrics are so insipid it's embarrassing. And all the parrot heads singing along rapturously only make it all the more unbearable. ... Oy.

Since watching http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thOxW19vsTg, I'm holding out for the hologram version.

Out of the mouths of babes... You got me, Dave! Yes. MG Beautifully said. A friend told me today that she hadn't told her young children, who knew Prince, about him passing away yet. I relayed your story of this 6-year-old's wisdom to her as a way she might help explain things, so thank you. There are a ton of rescue organizations out there, and I of course don't mean to imply anyone should rush out and get a dog if they aren't already considering it, but just as a little public service announcement I guess, here's a link to an excellent group in North America (not a country ) that rescues papillons. It's a process -- there are applications, home inspections, etc. But it's not a big deal. This small breed is very smart, among other things. They can be active, or homebodies, whatever you like. Very adaptable, has been my experience. So ... just thought I'd punctuate things with that. Thanks for all the good vibes. Onward and upward, as they say.

Steer clear of Florida.

I guess the argument goes: You do what you feel is right and let the consequences (intended or unintended) play out as they will.

His music has a very searching, spiritual vibe -- or as Geoffrey Himes puts it, a "left-wing Christianity, which can be as unrelentingly earnest as Bono's." Intelligent, introspective lyrics. I'd recommend checking out "Salt, Sun and Time" from his early work (1974). There's some groovy clarinet playing by a Jack Zaza (?) on this one, too. Of his somewhat more recent stuff, "Charity of the Night" is good, I think (1997). It's got a dark, jazzy feel to it.

The question of whether or not to break any law is solely up to each individual, but there may be consequences. This is Captain Obvious, signing off...

A hearty congratulations. Keep making great music!

Wish baseball would forget about this World Championship bs in March and open the season earlier, gosh, the season almost went into November! What a waste of time. I'm already looking forward to new season -- football stinks. I feel the same way. I used to love football. Just can't get into the pro game at all anymore. College a little bit, but not nearly as much as I used to. Pitchers and catchers will be reporting before you know it!! (except, not here anymore ... ... that's going to be weird.)

Have a happy birthday. Cheers.

I use DSL, but every once in a while it drops out for some reason for about an hour or so, and I have to piggyback on some nearby wireless network connection that is a bit slow (or has a weak signal, more accurately). Not to encourage broadband theft or anything, but you could see if your computer can pick up a nearby wireless connection just for grins.

Just want to say again to every one of you who has responded here, thank you for all the kind thoughts. Truly.

You're not alone. I know this feeling too. I would guess it's not uncommon. Our pets rely on us 100% to take care of them. How they die is up to us. That's an enormous responsibility. When we fail them at all in that moment because we love them and can't let go, the guilt can be overwhelming. And reading between the lines of what a vet is telling you when you're grasping for any thread of hope can be confusing as well. But ... I've come to the conclusion that there is no "good" way to go. So while meaningful in some respects, and something we all want to be gentle and filled with kindness, the end doesn't matter a fraction as much as everything else that came before. Whatever suffering Maggie, or Prince, or anyone's pet endures in the end, it is just a tiny sliver of sadness that doesn't begin to compare to the mountain of joy they bring through the rest of their lives. Anyways, thank you again for all the kind words.

Thanks for all the kind thoughts. It has been sort of a rough day, but there's still a few critters wandering around here to keep me company. (One with no lower jaw; one 20-year-old cat, nearly deaf. ... what can I say?) Prince was an innocent soul who was cast off at some point to fend for himself. And I simply raised my hand when the call went out from the rescue group that scooped him off the streets. I was lucky enough to end up getting him. I remember the woman who fostered him saying that he collapsed from weakness in her arms when she went to pick him up and she thought he had died right then and there. He didn't, of course, and recovered to a point under her care. But the transition into a new home can be somewhat dicey for a frail animal with special needs, and no sooner had Prince arrived here than he began to fail. It took a couple of days at the vet and a whole lot of intravenous fluids to get him back. When I went to pick him up, he was laying down in his crate, a plastic tube still stuck in his leg. Although he'd only been with me a week or two, he got instantly excited as soon as he saw me, jumping up and down and barking. I was surprised and delighted, and off we went. His health would ebb and flow in a certain range, and he required subcutaneous fluids regularly or his appetite would disappear. Overall though, he was doing really well, particularly over the past couple of months. But his decline was swift. I'm sure some of you know this already, but the vet said that with impaired kidney function there is a tipping point. There are X-number of kidney cells functioning, and once that number drops below a certain level, that's it. The kidneys basically shut down. Not a lot of people want a fatally flawed animal. I understand why, but the reward comes back tenfold when you see a struggling and sickly animal come back and do well, if not thrive. Once they feel better, they don't know they're sick, or slowly dying. And you tend to forget it, too. They play, show affection and want attention just like any other dog. It's great. Anyways, I dropped off Prince's remains about an hour ago and will pick up his ashes later in the week. I look forward to that. Thanks again for all the kind words. I know a lot of folks here have gone through the same sort of thing and are destined to go through it again, as am I. And that's why this was a good place to post what I did.

Thanks. It helps. That's Prince in my avatar now. Cool little guy, he was.

A friend left me last night. He came to me a little over a year ago, frail, afraid and with failing kidneys. The first few weeks I had him I thought I was going to lose him. But with care, he crept back from the precipice and enjoyed what remained of his life. He was happy and cared for while with me, and I'm grateful for that. I'll remember him run-bouncing in little circles for his dinner, a low-protein mixture of white rice and deli meat concocted to keep from taxing his kidneys. I'll remember him laying across my chest and rubbing his ears bashfully with his paws as I would tell him what a handsome boy he was. And then he'd rub his ears some more, rolling his head from side to side and slapping my chest with his paws as he did. I'll remember him rolling on his back playfully, his paws in the air, swishing from side to side to scratch his back on the carpet. And I'll remember him curled up in the crook of my arm as we slept through the night. The last year of his life was good. But he'd endured something harsh before being brought to me by a rescue group after being found, emaciated, on the streets somewhere in South Florida. In a way, we probably cheated death a little bit, Prince and I. But when I checked on him this morning, he did not respond. He was gone. You can't cheat death forever. He died last night after falling ill midweek and deteriorating rapidly. I've seen it happen this way before. A week or two ago, he was a happy and reasonably energetic dog. But when they're frail to begin with, illness can be harsh. Every effort to treat him only seemed to make him worse. Yesterday, after returning from the vet where he'd gotten some treatment, I held him upright in a towel against my chest and gave him water and warm soup through a syringe. That was his last meal. As I tried to get this last bit of nourishment in him, he was very still, and stared off into the distance, as if trying to tell me, "I'm dying." But he'd been that way before and recovered. I've had other special needs animals, too, who would fall very ill, then recover. So you never know when that last time is going to come. And that's why, in part, it's so hard to know when, or how, to let go. But I'm glad he died here, in his home, rather than in a cold, sterile animal hospital. And I'm glad to have given him comfort and love at the end of his life. I shed a tear for him now, and as always, wish I could have done more. But I don't regret a moment. Not even this one. And I just felt like I should say so. So long, Prince. I love you pal. -------------------------------------- Help an animal in need, if you can.