I hope that each of you, in your dispair and sadness over the untimely passing of Mark Tortorici, are finding the same comfort that I am in all of the wonderful thoughts, memories, and photos of him being shared. I am so thankful that that galoot touched so many hearts, brought so many smiles to so many faces, gifted so many ears with his voice, and blessed so many souls with his immense love and goodness. Knowing Mark loved many never diminished the love he shared with each of us individually. I feel blessed to have been part of that large circle. None of us will be the same, and are all connected by threads of knowing him. I remember the first time Mark left me waiting at LAX for almost two hours. How angry I was, and how uncomfortable I was sitting on my suitcase in the dress and shoes he insisted I wear, and how immediately the anger gave way to exasperated joy when he finally pulled up and leapt from that damn truck with that fool grin on his face. That visit was an adventure to end all adventures. We found a filthy hole in the wall flea market with 78 rekkids, a shared passion, for 25¢ each. We spent hours digging thru those stacks, and fighting over a few gems. He won the rock paper scissor fight on a Big Maybelle and I was so mad I pushed him over...and a mouse trap hidden behind the crate snapped his pinky finger. He sent me that record at Christmas that year. With a mouse trap. I missed my flight home on that visit because he recorded that Leanne Rimes things the morning I had to leave. On another visit, we met up in Vegas, with plans to travel back to LA together, where my daughters were flying in to meet me for an extended visit. That was an epic hang with Ron, the Harkenriders, and Big Jay McNeely. The trip back to SoCal took almost 3 days, with all of the sights he insisted we must visit together. He never missed a phone call to me on Thanksgiving, Christmas, or my birthday, and was always trolling for cheap flights that he would call me about, or schemes to meet up somewhere, and I was always telling him he was nuts, and reminding him that the freedom to go and be and see and do was not a jointly enjoyed freedom. He would always tell me he knew that, but wanted me to know he always thought of me, and that I was dear to him. I would always tell him it was mutual, and apologize for not reaching out more. Tonight, I will raise a glass of the organic Spanish red I have been saving for our next adventure, spin my prized Big Maybelle along with some of our other favorites in his honor, and very likely have the puking, yell cry snot fest that I have somehow managed to avoid since receiving the horrible news early on Friday. ..because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes Awww! - Jack Kerouac
Posted on: Tue, 04 Nov 2014 18:36:09 +0000
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