Jay Bennett

(Author’s note: This entry is in part about collaboration, so I think it’s only fair that I come clean and tell you that I’m a new contributor on this blog, and it’s my first entry. In the interest of collaboration, SuperChar contributed the picture, but the fair-to-poor quality of the entry is all mine. Cut me some slack.)

In the midst of high-profile celebrity death watches like Patrick Swayze and Farrah Fawcett, it’s hard to remember that sometimes celebrities die the old fashioned way: unexpectedly in their sleep. Such was the case with Jay Bennett, formerly of Titanic Love Affair, Wilco and of this world. But that's why he's here, I suppose...
Way way back in the 90’s, Bennett famously collaborated with Jeff Tweedy in Wilco, but it wasn’t Tweedy’s first difficult collaboration with someone named Jay. (Jay Farrar of Uncle Tupelo and Son Volt is still alive, so at least we can rule out some weird ‘collaborators named Jay’ curse.)
Truth is, he was lacking money and health insurance to take care of an old stage diving injury (how cool is that – I mean the stage diving part, not the money part). He had even recently sued Tweedy for royalties from the film that made him look pretty prickly (with an emphasis on prick), ‘I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.’ He pretty much spent the rest of his life trying to not be that guy who was in Wilco, so let’s take a look at Jay Bennett’s life in relation to his time in Wilco.
There were a lot of of clues in Wilco’s third album, Summerteeth that this might be an issue sometime down the road. First of all, in the lyrics of a couple of the songs, health care was clearly an issue:
In ‘A Shot in the Arm,’ Tweedy sings “Maybe all I need is a shot in the arm” (over and over.) And in ‘She’s a Jar,’ he sings “I believe it’s all because Daddy’s paycheck is not enough.” Pretty eerie, right?
Even in the album title provides a healthcare cry of help. It’s derived from a hillbilly quote: “I’ve got summerteeth: summ ‘er there, sum aren’t.” Wilco trivia for the day. But if you're the kind of person who would like that bit of Wilco trivia, you probably already knew that one.
Sure, Jay Bennett didn’t really write any of those lyrics, but he might have helped name the album, and he definitely helped to make the music sound delicious. All strangeness aside, this is a great album, in large part because of Jay Bennett. That's what Jay Bennett meant to me. A driving force in shaping one of the most interesting bands out there.
True collaboration isn't easy. And a lot of times it really is painful. But damn, I pretty much remember the first time I heard any of the albums he played on. That's some serious influence.
Maybe it’s because he couldn’t sit still for long.
Now if you didn't like this entry, let me know. I did have a couple more angles:
1. People who I think look like they probably smelled a little funky. (Keith Richards, Puck, Delta Burke)
2. Some connection between Jay Bennett and JonBenet. Never gets old for me. JonBenet was from Boulder like me. And they both wore cowboy hats.

Roh Moo-Hyun

Is it me or have there been far too many suicides of late? First, there was David Kellerman, then Lucy Gordon, and now this. And that's just the relatively famous people. In particular, the murder-suicide seems to be happening now more than ever. It's just a horrible way to go, and I personally don't see much honor in it at all. But that's just me.

Here is what the deceased had to say in his final words, literally copy and pasted straight from his computer, except it was translated, naturally:

I was a burden to too many people.

So many people have suffered greatly because of me.

I cannot even imagine how much more sufferings will come. The rest of my life

I will only be a burden to others.

Because my health has worsened, I can’t do anything. I can’t even read a book or write anything.

Don’t be too sad. Aren’t life and death

all part of nature? Don’t be sorry.

Don’t blame anyone. This is fate.

Cremate my body. And leave a small tombstone near my home.

I have thought about this for a long time.


The spirit of this blog is to focus on what the person meant to me, and in this case, I am sad to say, not much. It's yet another person who I only know about in death rather than in life. In this specific case, I need to be a bit more worldly. But, it's a big world and I betcha anything that you, dear reader, did not know much about this man, either.

OK, well what more can I find out about this man. This article, with an annoyingly pro-American slant, was written at the time of his inauguration. If you want a (probably biased) look at how things worked out in his first year, there's a book all about it.

But, as we all know by now, things didn't work out so well after all. It all comes down to a guy who seemed to be morally all right, but got his hand (or, possibly his wife's hand) caught in the cookie jar. Now, it seems like the charges have been dropped. Mission accomplished?

Lucy Gordon

OK, first things first. I officially changed the name of this blog from "Celebrituary" to "Celebituary." To be honest both are problematic. Celebrituary is hard to say, and people have told me as much. Oh, and is it only for British people? I got that comment too. Celebituary makes more sense, but it has a misleading real word ingredient, that being "celebate," which some might ask, so is it only for deceased clergy?

It's sort of ironic that I am switching gears for this post, given that the recently deceased is a Brit, one Lucy Gordon. She apparently hung herself in Paris two days before her 29th birthday, which is really sad and unfortunate. My wife, Jennifer, who has her own thriving blog warned me, "...now, you're not going to go out and make fun of someone who just hung herself, are you?" I guess there is the misconception that I am the ultimate opportunist. You might even say a vulture. But, it's not like that at all. I just find the phenomenon of "the last fifteen minutes of fame" sort of interesting, and feel like it's a great time to learn a little something you might not know about this person.

So, for starters, I won't say a thing about that big movie she was in, although I will point to a well done blog entry of the photographer who snapped a shot of her at the opening of (un)said blockbuster. To be honest, I really don't feel like sleuthing factoids today as, believe it or not, I have a day job, and these untimely events sometimes conflict with meetings. Finding the links is the hardest part. But I owe it to you, guys don't I? OK, well. Her is an interview from the premiere of "The Four Feathers," which also starred Heath Ledger, thus linking the two not only in death, but in the superhero movie genre.

Here are her modeling specs. And while we are all learning something new, I just lost about ten minutes educating myself on the interesting character Serge Gainsbourg, who was the subject of the biopic that she last starred in as Gainsbourg's young wife, Jane Birkin.

Oh, and she was in Spiderman 3.

Dolla

How's this for a nice warm slice of irony? American rapper, Dolla, 21, best known for the song "Who the Fuck is That?" was fatally shot in L.A. yesterday.

I hold this death upside the weekend death of Uraguain rapper (poet), Mario Benedetti, 88, who is virtually unknown in the U.S., but whose contribution to world literature was mighty.

Celebrity is relative, but death is absolute. So, what is a blogger to do? Do you play to the American masses and make sure that someone has at least been on American Idol, The Today Show, or Oprah to make the cut? It's a tough call and one, I'm afraid I will be forced to make again and again as I sustain this blog.

Ultimately, this is about pop culture, which is why I resisted the temptation to shine a little light on Mario; and I so eagerly banged out this post on the less accomplished, but arguably bigger star, Dolla.

Well, now I am committed. I have to go through with this. OK. His real name is Roderick Anthony Burton II. I'm sure you all heard this already, but here is an exclusive Dolla interview from DJ Booth. Here is an almost impossible to read Yahoo Answers thread on whether Dolla's death merits purchase of his forthcoming debut album. A nice pencil sketch of Dolla from Princess. The Artist. Oh, and here is a list from askmen.com on the top 10 murdered rappers.

Wayman Tisdale

Well, I was getting all geared up for Farrah Fawcett, and then Wayman Tisdale changes everything. What's really weird about this is not only the Chuck Daly weekend event, but the Bernie Williams reference in the Dom DiMaggio obit. For those of you who don't know, Wayman Tisdale had a nice, albeit brief post basketball career as a jazz musician, which creates the Bernie Williams connection. What's kind of interesting is that his basketball career was pre-Web and his music career was post-Web, which overindexes the bass guitar part, so much so that the uninitiated might think of him more as a bass player than a basketball player.

So, back to Wayman Tisdale. I think you would be hard pressed to find a better basketball player name. I can't say that I have any Wayman Tisdale recollections, specifically. It just seemed like he was sort of always around. Being five years my senior means that he came to prominence in the late seventies, which is right about the time that I started doing things like reading newspapers and watching the evening news. So, what I mean is that the name "Wayman Tisdale" has been around practically as far back as I can remember. Not as far as, say...Mark Hamill, but me and Wayman, we go way back. But not nearly as deep as this fan's comments on MetaFilter:

"He was on the Phoenix Suns from '94-'97, when I was a young teenage Suns fan. I'm still a basketball fan, but like most people, my unbridled enthusiasm for the sport and my team peaked when I was around 13 to 15 years old.

The Suns players from those years are mythic figures to me, and Tisdale was one of the most unique in a rather odd crew*. Tisdale moved differently than other players--he had a big butt and used his low center of gravity to make room for himself in the paint. And he had this sweet baby hook shot that seemed to come from nowhere. I seem to remember that the Suns' play-by-play guy, Al McCoy, had one of his silly nicknames for Tisdale's hook shot, but I can't remember it right now.

Anyway, I'll miss Wayman.

* the odd crew: the outspoken Charles Barkley, the famous virgin AC Green, the high-sock wearing Elliot Perry, the coke addicted wunderkind Richard Dumas. And of course Thunder Dan Majerle and one of the great underrated point guards, Kevin Johnson. Good times."

posted by mullacc at 12:26 PM on May 15

So, here is the part where I do the "I betcha didn't know..." thing. Today, unfortunately (or maybe poetically), his site is down. I certainly hope it comes back up for his posterity.

What's great about the Web, and the advanced state of local papers is that you end up with ridiculously comprehensive collections of links, so you can follow every newsworthy event in the man's life.

But, what they failed to capture is this entertaining thread from bass guitar snobs on the fact that in actuality, Mr. Tisdale played piccolo bass guitar, NOT bass guitar. Somebody else noted that he plays the 5 string Tobias Killer Bs. And here is a somewhat unfortunately titled video from YouTube on his successful (to date) battle with the Big C.

Chuck Daly

Another mini-streak. Two sporting personalities in a row.

For the first time in a while, I actually scooped myself on this one. Well, it's not like I was there or anything. I just use this handy reference, which everyone should also bookmark.

Here is my highly personal memory of "Daddy Rich." It was the Spring of 1990, and I worked the front desk at Econo Lodge Tallahassee on West Tennessee St. What was terrific about the job was that the hotel would fill up quite often, and pretty much after 9 PM my job was done. I was still obliged to sit there, and field the occasional request for a towel or a porno VHS tape (this was before Spectravision).

One of the selling points of the job was the fact that I would have upward of 4 hours a night to study. So, every night I would bring a big stack of books to work and every night I would end up watching the NBA playoffs on the TV in the desk clerk's office. It was nearing the end of the "short shorts" era in basketball.

That was the season that Daly's "Bad Boys" won their second title, and I recall getting heavily behind Clyde Drexler's Trailblazers to no avail. In fact, I remember the final game. The series ended in five, but it was actually an amazing comeback from the Pistons on the road that sealed it. This meant no more basketball for me, and back to my studies. So, thank you, Coach Daly for sticking the final dagger in the Blazers and helping me get back on the right track of studying.

...Or, did I switch over to watching those video tapes?

Dom Dimaggio

Some people might call this borderline, and I guess it's just a question of where you stand. But, being Italian American and a sports fan, "the little professor" is a home run. Plus, I think it gives hope to Jermaine Jackson, Eric Roberts, and any number of Baldwin brothers.

It also marks two "Dom's" in a row, a fact duly noted by fellow Italian Stace Caseria who tipped me on this death. If I were actor Dominic Zamprogna, I would be very concerned.

I was hoping to get a little perspective, a little color commentary from my 82 year-old father, so I called him up.

"Center Fielder."

And then he went on a long diatribe about the empty seats at Yankee Stadium, about how he almost hit the Triple at the Kentucky Derby, and about buying a bicycle for my oldest son.

I could have pushed him on it.

"I do this blog about dead celebrities and I was really hoping you would have a memory, ... a sweet little anecdote about the other Dimaggio brother. Maybe a little something about the tension that must have existed with two brothers playing for bitter rivals. How about the fact that not only was he second fiddle in his family, but also in his own outfield to a man who is most recently famous for having his decapitated head frozen?

But, I decided to let it be. It was sort of nice that he didn't say, "Joe's brother." Just "Center Fielder."

So, how about this? Dom Dimaggio, according to this random Internet list is the 14th best Center Fielder of all time. Among the other dead people on the list are Mickey Mantle, Ty Cobb, and aforementioned famous brother. Not bad company. I have to question Bernie Williams being #7 on this list, but perhaps he will get extra credit for his jazz guitar work. It's hard even for me to write about a Red Sox player without invariably talking about the Yankees.

And, therein lies the importance of Dom Dimaggio. He is a meaningful thread in the ever-growing Yankees - Red Sox tapesty. And, as far as having a place in history, you could do a lot worse.

Dom Deluise

If I had any question as to whether folks are following this blog, I got my answer on a relatively quiet and rainy Tuesday afternoon. No less than ten e-mails and text messages poured in with the news that Dom Deluise had passed on. Clearly, this portly gentleman strikes a chord with those interested in the camp, the trivial, the semi-famous. And now the burden is on my shoulders. To deliver a celebrituary worthy of this bright star's cult status.

I just don't know if I am up to it.

Here's the thing. I have stiff competition from all these publications, with all their damn reporters, who knew he had cancer and were rarin' to go with tributes like this.

But I can win on the personal touches. I can win with leftfield links and deep content from the DeLuise archives. I can win with tidy compilations of trivia. And the best part is that all this comes from you. People like Peter Knierim, Dennis Pereira, and Gian Lavecchia. I have an army and they number in the thousands. OK, maybe the tens, but most definitely the tens.

So, perhaps I don't get the scoop. But, I can be ruthless, resorting to the Muppet Show if I have to.

Here's something even more fun than the Muppet Show. It's fair to say that domdeluise.com is perhaps the WORST celebrity Web Site I have ever seen. But, it isn't completely without value. I learned that Dom was quite the prolific writer of Children's Books. And, as much as I would love to give all the business to the DeLuise estate, I just can't get past that Web page, so buy from Amazon.

Here is an excerpt from "Charlie the Caterpillar":

One day, One bright and sunny day,
Charlie the caterpillar was born.
The world looked very, very big to Charlie...
because he was very, very small...
because he was just born.

A little slice of relativity theory from Fatso. Enjoy the irony.

Jack Kemp

What's nice about Jack Kemp's passing (pun intended) is that I actually have a second hand account of the man, which serves to better dimensionalize the man.

My dear old friend, Terryl Bechtol, jr., not to be confused with the semi-famous Southern Entertainer, Terryl Bechtol, sr., was heavily involved with the young Republicans back in the late Eighties. He went away to some big summer retreat in Washington, DC and met all these other young Republicans. Apart from some heavy underage drinking and requisite "hooking up," the big keynote of the whole shebang was an intimate engagement with "the next President of the United States," Jack Kemp. Everybody lined up, hoping to get one of those Clinton meeting Kennedy photos. And I know Terryl got one, and I know I saw it, and I know I was duly impressed. Where it is now? Maybe Terryl will find it and scan it for me.

Back in that summer, and it had to be 86, the Republican party had a lot of mojo. And Kemp was really at the center (and quite possibly the source) of that mojo. And, like Ronald Reagan didn't recall how the Contras got those weapons, I don't really recall how Kemp faded at the turn and didn't get the nod in 88. But we'll let the internet help our memories there, if that is OK. My point is that Terryl met an almost president, and I knew Terryl pretty well, so that is about as close as it has gotten so far for me, short of shaking hands with Bob Graham in 1990 or so.

Let's do the link format that I have now settled into for Jack Kemp. Kind of neato coincidence that on the footsteps of Danny Gans, there is another former athlete who is better known for something else. For Kemp, though, his football career was anything but a footnote.

What else? I was actually quite moved by his last writing, the target="_blank"letter to his grandchildren. There's a nice reel of great moments in vice-presidential debates, which is a fun little piece of time travel that makes me start to feel a little old. Oh my...then there's the homosexual allegations. I'll have to check back with my buddy Terryl and get a little more information on exactly WHAT kind of parties went down in that summer of '86.

Danny Gans

Before I deal with the tragic loss impersonator extraordinaire, Danny Gans, I have to give a special shout out to Vern "The Voice" Gosdin who I somehow missed in all the hustle and bustle of the week.

My brother, who is also deceased, introduced me to Mr. Gosdin when I was a child. I don't remember any of his songs, but probably might if I heard a couple.

I am starting to realize that I have certainly taken on quite a responsibility with this celebrituary blog. If and when a person of note happens to pass on, the clock immediately starts ticking for me to get something up so as to honor the dearly departed during their final fifteen moments, as it were. I mean, Elvis Presley is also dead. But where's the newsworthiness there? But, after this massive tangent, I needed to build a King Sized bridge to back to Vegas. Thankyouverymuch.

So lets dispense with this Vegas icon, Mr. Gans. More than many of the Vegas stars, this guy was very specific to Sin City. Everybody knows about the baseball career, and Bull Durham, and his new gig at the brand new Encore Theater, now forever known as "The House that Danny Built."

Beyond that? He impersonated Wayne Newton on an episode of Rosanne. He's a Jesus Freak. Oh, and he had a bad reputation for canceling his shows all the time. Tonight's show? Cancelled.