Goodbye, Hunter

I was checking the frontpage of www.ntytimes.com last night around 11:15pm or so when I saw a new headline that wasn't there when I checked around 10pm (Its an OCD sort of thing I've developed since 9/11 - check check check the news). And here was a headline telling me Hunter S. Thompson, co-founder of Gonzo Journalism had taken his life. I sat for a second and thought about it and let it soak in.

"Aww no..." I thought. I also immediately thought of my estranged friend Tom who was a bigger Thompson fan than I. At least back when we spoke regularly he was. Anyway, I walked into the bedroom and told Clarisa what I had just read.

"Really? Wow.' She paused and looked briefly at her laptop screen, but saw nothing and looked back up at me. "In way, that makes sense.' she paused again."That's the end of something, isn't it?".

I thought about what she said for a second and I had to agree. I knew what she meant -- that it was more than Hunter that had just died. An age of sorts has passed. The voice of Gonzo Journalism silenced himself and left us to fend for ourselves in this land that I see quietly creeping toward Orwellian prognostications. And how was he supposed to leave this earth? Dying slowly in a nursing home? It just seems to fit that this is how it would end for him. By no means do I condone it and I hope I never face such a choice but it seems to fit, though I'd rather it not.

While not a regular reader, I always found it comforting to know that he was out there doing his thing; thinking bounding thoughts and experiencing things in a visceral way. What's more, I knew that I could, when I wanted, check right in and live vicariously through him for a bit via a column on ESPN's Page 2 or in any of his other writing. His writing is still there, of course, but all of a sudden I'm not as comfortable. Maybe he could appreciate that.