Lou Reed

 "Lou Reed died on October 27, 2013.................."

That is the first sentence of the last chapter of the Lou Reed biography I recently read. That sentence hit me hard - as if I was experiencing his death in real time. Unnerved me.

I read lots and lots and lots of biographies and autobiographies. They are heavily skewed towards the music industry, but they run the gamut from Jackie Gleason to Dean Martin to Katherine Hepburn to Neil Young to Lenny Bruce to George Jones to John Cleese to Waylon Jennings to Paul Simon............you get the point.

Once in a while I come across a book that affects me as if the subject was a friend of mine. I become emotionally involved in their life story.

Lou Reed caught me off guard. I own one Velvet Underground CD (the infamous banana album) and one Lou Reed cassette (Magic & Loss). I was aware of him, he interested me because he walked on the dark side and was ferociously independent, but I did not take a deep dive into his music.

My loss.

Obviously the book led up to his death and I could feel it coming, but at that point I had developed a deep admiration for who he was. He essentially died a second time for me.

His wife, Laurie Anderson, was in the room with him when he died. She described the scene - it was so peaceful, so spiritual - he knew he was dying, he accepted it, his wife was by his side.

George Harrison's death was similar - his wife was in the room with him. Again, a peaceful, spiritual scene.

Bowie's death was like that too.

Most of us, most likely, will show fear at a time like that - you will see it in our eyes. Nobody wants to die. But if you can get to that place where you accept it, it must be a beautiful thing. No kicking and screaming, no raging against the dying of the light, no fear. Looking into the eyes of your loved one.

I recently read about a woman in Australia who spent 12 years counseling dying people. She recorded their top regrets. #1 was:

"I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me".

Lou Reed, George Harrison, David Bowie - they lived extraordinary lives. They lived life the way they wanted to live it; they made a living doing what they loved. They were fiercely unique.

I think that's the key. I don't know how I will go, but if I was in that position right now, aware of my impending death, you would see fear in my eyes. Because my life in many ways has been a foreign thing to me.

That's why I am scrambling so hard right now to find a new path. Even if I only get a few years, but those years make sense to me, that will go a long way to exploding a mountain of regrets.

Truth is most of us do not live the lives we want. Our lives are too small; restricted, structured, inflexible. I guess if you live true to your personality - no compromise - that is a small victory.

I'm just not sure that's enough to erase the fear from your eyes.