June 20, 2005

That's it, folks, I'm outta here.

My reasons are my own, suffice it to say that I'm sick and not getting any better, and I'm having too much difficulty accepting the options I'm presented with. I know, I know, a lot of people have it worse than me, yet they keep soldiering on. Kudos to those braver than I.

Thanks to everybody who was nice to me and tried to help me out. Mattie Parfitt is a very sweet person, as is Jocelyn Logan. Amanda V. Noark: good luck in your music career, I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy.

Matthew G. Scott, you're stuck with the ugly duty of distributing my possessions. You know the passwords for my various internet accounts, and you can get people's addresses and phone numbers from my Yahoo address book or from my Sprint cell phone, provided you can get the thing to work at all. Anything leftover that nobody else wants should go to Goodwill Services. Please see to it that my cats are taken care of, Angelique Phillips might be interested in taking them. Please take good care of Tanesa, she's a special woman and you'd better appreciate her.

My dead carcass goes to the Lupus Foundation of America, or whoever wants it for medical research. If my hair is long enough, somebody cut it all off and give it to Locks of Love.

Steve Layne gets Blondie (my 1953 Harmony archtop guitar) and anything else he wants.

Bobby Hemperly gets my Dodge minivan and the black archtop guitar (Blackie) and the tube powered record player in my bedroom (it's his, anyway.)

Daniel Fluett gets my Alamo lap steel.

Ross Jennings gets all my lutherie tools and spare guitar parts on the condition that he finish the guitar project for Ray Benson and the Rickenbacker 4003 bass for Steve Wilhelm. It'd be nice if he could finish out the Fender Jazz Bass marked for Winston Barrett.

Pierre Deribes gets all my stereo equipment and speakers.

Todd Morrow of Tecumseh, Oklahoma gets my computer and software and all my CDs, all my books, my Kawasaki motorcycle and all the spare parts and factory service manual that go with it, along with all other guitars and amplifiers not otherwise marked for somebody else, including the 1958 Danelectro that my dad gave me. Go make something good with it, Todd. (The bike is running a bit lean, you'll want to shim the needles in the carburetors before you go for any long rides.)

Mom & Dad, I'm really sorry to beat you both to the punch line, but remember that you still have Farron and all the wonderful snot-nosed bratty grandchildren he's provided. (Maybe you should have stopped after you had him…)

Justin Belshe


PS A great big hearty FUCK YOU to Mike Robinson, Jason Allen, Gary P. Nunn, the Internal Revenue Service, George W. Bush and his evil band of fascist dickheads.