As music writer Steven Hyden’s timely and expansive new remembrance notes, today is the fifteenth anniversary of the death of Warren Zevon. I recommend you read Hyden’s article while listening to these selections from Zevon’s deep catalogue. The first two picks are mine, while the third is the song Hyden identifies as the artist’s best.
I enjoyed the sandwich I had for lunch today, and I hope you have the opportunity to do the same.
Boxing is and remains at the nexus of raw athleticism and raw celebrity, and its literary and musical ties are no less strong today for the decrease in volume of evidence of those ties that reasonably tracks the decrease in the sport’s popularity. I don’t feel any special need to perpetuate the sport except that I would hate to see it go, which is why I try to keep an eye on it here. (Click the “boxing” tag at the bottom of this post for past coverage.)
I was looking forward to reading this interview with Boom Boom Mancini’s latest biographer, and although I did learn some interesting details about the fighter’s life, the interview wasn’t anything special. It did recall an earlier Mancini biographer, though, who gives a crisp, thundering delivery:
(I also think more boxing matches should take place outside.)
I hope that happens to me exactly, minus the rain and the catfish. I’ve caught catfish. I’ve eaten catfish. Various preparations. I’ve tried. I can’t do it anymore. And the pouring rain. It always seems to rain for the Liberty Bowl, but this year is shaping up just fine.