I miss Joe Cocker and Janis Joplin.
That’s right.
Both of them.
Equally powerful, equally mesmerizing, each in their own inimitable
and wonderful way.
If you’ve never seen or heard either of them, you may not
know it, but you miss them too.
And if you have experienced them
you know you miss them. More so than I can even express.
I don’t need to be reminded about the void left in my once
well-satiated soul. My psyche is
just a little out of sync since they’ve been gone. My equilibrium is just a little bit off-kilter. The pop-star-strippers the star-makers
keep running out in front of us are mere wannabe’s, pickpockets, and imposters
compared to the likes of Joe and Janis.
These pretenders are not here to enhance our lives with their pop
drivel. They never have been. They’re here to enhance
themselves. And they’re here to
allow us the privilege of purchasing four hundred dollar tickets to their shows
so they can maintain their mansions, their private yachts and jets, while collecting
costly wardrobes to impress their equally narcissistic friends, even though
their designer garments are dripping with the sweat of our own brows.
But Joe and Janis . . . . . passionate, authentic,
captivating, fascinating; each in their own peculiar way. Each one as unique as the other. Each with a voice the size of their
desire, and a heart the size of their fiery voice.
Janis was the tortured soul-searing singer who could bring
you to your knees in a passionate plea for mercy. She could give you gifts you never knew existed. ‘Take it. Take another little piece of my heart now baby. You know you’ve got it, child, if it
makes you feel good’.
And Joe, the trembling vocal jester with convulsive soulful
gestures resembling both the agony and the ecstasy simultaneously in song. ‘You are so beautiful to me. You’re everything I’ve hoped for,
e v e r y t h i n g I
n e e d. You are so
beautiful to me’.
Joe and Janis.
Gone too soon.
Gone but not forgotten.
Never have been.
Never will be.
Not in my house.
