RIP - Alex Chilton 03.17.10

Alex Chilton died on March 17th. The problem is that I didn't hear about it until now. I was in Germany at the time and about to be ambushed to cook a birthday dinner for a girl I hadn't seen since October of the previous year. Alex Chilton, who's name will only ring a bell to devotees of Power Pop and a band called Big Star (of course you've never heard of them) was most known as the lead singer of a 60s American band called The Box Tops. When he was 16 they had a #1 hit with a song called, 'The Letter'. "Give me a ticket for an aeroplane", he sang, "Ain't got no time to take no fast train. Lonely days are gone, I'm a goin' home - cause my baby, she wrote me a letter." Rest in peace Mr. Chilton. No one will ever write a song that sets a man's heart traveling because his baby, "she sent him a Twitter". Alex Chilton was 59.

My friend just died...

My friend Bob died, recently.

And you know what? He's not dead. (and his name's not Bob)

Bob lives in Chicago and he was my financial advisor through Leo Burnett, Leo Burnett Korea and my own company CarlsonCreative, in Korea and more recently, in Vietnam.

But Bob is now dead.

Not physically.

Bob has allowed his brain to die.

For me, I have lost a friend. A person I liked. All about music and finance and new ideas and seeing the world for fun through eyes that didn't have our wallets attached to them. Or the SEC.

I miss the Grant Park Music Society (Chicago Symphony Summer Series). I miss the big hats on our dates. I miss him whinging about all kinds of shit. I miss Nintendo. I miss him not knowing fuck all about Nintendo or IT and still letting me buy AOL in it's IPO stage. I miss buying into AOL at $27 and selling the last of my lot at $175. I miss teaching him about Silicon Valley and Siliconmunist Valley and the silly shit in Redmond, Washington. He didn't know fuck-all.

Here's a picture of Bob's home. Overlooking Lake Michigan, in Chicago.

Nice place, if you work at home all day.

But worthless if you work in a shitty office – like Bob does. (sorry, no photo of crap office)


I miss divorcing my wife.

I miss him being my friend and helping me through that.

I miss seeing him in Michigan at my lake house.

I miss his mom being an illustrator for the Smithsonian institute (and drawing birds) and him being a complete financial geek, but getting it totally. I miss the way he related this to me but totally rued me when I become low on cash.

Absolute dichotomy.

He walked from me because the Patriot Act. SEC bullshit, and my lack of "Million-dollar client " status. I suppose he walked because he was never really a friend. His new wife didn't like me either... Told me I couldn't afford his $275 an hour rate for advice anymore...

He was fun when I had money.

I miss him.

What are friends worth?

I sort of wonder what ever happened to friends. It's as if I may never come back.

Who knows.

I miss you BOB.