RIP, Eddie

 I was feeling all inspired earlier today, but now (9.04pm AEDST), I'm feeling about as inspired as a sloth that's been pulling cones. Nice things have been happening this week. I've received good news about a matter that I cannot yet discuss, but one that has been a millstone around my neck. I'm on holidays. I received a lovely bouquet of flowers from the family of the young woman to whom I rendered assistance last week when she had a medical episode. I received a 'Pass' on a subject I have been studying online. I had a lovely lunch on Sunday with Mr Bingells as we celebrated our wedding anniversary. We went to a nearby winery and had a delicious al fresco meal, looking at the beautiful vineyard. I got the final assessments on another subject finalised and uploaded. 

Prima facie, life is good.

Then this morning came the news Eddie Van Halen has lost his battle with cancer. 

Honestly, can 2020 suck any harder than it already has? Everyone is already miserable and melancholic with the changes and adjustments as this virus does its diabolical work. That malignant narcissist in the White House had a turn, and still does not appear to have learned, given his lap in a car waving to what he called 'fans'. Honestly, does he still think he's being a television star? What about the poor people who had to drive the deluded nincompoop; would they have enjoyed possible exposure?

But no, it's a guy who had more an a modicum of talent in is chosen field, and who was apparently a genuinely nice person, who had to go. Okay, I will admit to having harboured a bit of a crush in my teenage years. He had a cute baby-face and a gorgeous cloud of dark shaggy hair that cascaded below his shoulders, and he rocked the spandex pants. And he was seriously fucking talented, folks. What a virtuoso! As an aside, I won the Who Am I in an online live trivia game I play a few weeks ago - the clues were: born in the Netherlands in 1955, emigrated with family to US, played piano but decided to stick to guitar because brother liked drums - and I was first with the answer: Eddie Van Halen. 

When Thriller was released, and people sighed and rhapsodised about its brilliance (I didn't get the memo; not a huge Jacko fan), and the album was played ad nauseum at parties, and other kids would be up dancing: I'd just loll on a beanbag, glass of coke mixed with Blackberry Nip in hand, and wait for Beat It so I could enjoy that ripper guitar solo provided courtesy of Mr Edward Van Halen.  I still maintain Eddie's guitar solo was the best part of that album, but my palate has matured and I no longer drink Blackberry Nip with coke. 

You were a true talent, Eddie. Rest in peace.