10/12/2024
A few slightly delayed thoughts about Artie Baldacci:
When I first learned about Artie Baldacci’s passing, the news rocked my psyche like someone had snuck up behind me and hit me with a bat or a golf club. It came suddenly, out of the blue, and was entirely unexpected. It was crushing, shocking, numbing. For several days all I could think was "Artie?? Not Artie!"
As we go through life, and especially as we get older, we tend to take certain things for granted: the sun will come up in the morning, the IRS will still expect our tax payments, there will not be peace in the world anytime soon, etc. Patterns and institutions. Mindsets and givens.
We tend to think of people in a similar manner. Whether or not we see one another every day, or whether we rarely speak anymore, (or even never speak, ever again), once we have been intensely close due to shared emotions and/or experiences, and irrespective of how our lives may have diverged, there is that indelible bond, that connection, that feeling of “There will always be an 'us', and I know that you are there, and that helps me to feel like everything else is a little more OK, the way it should be”.
Deep friendships, partnerships, marriages, love affairs and, without a doubt, rock ‘n’ roll bands, even if they only exist for a few months or a few years, and regardless of how they end, become fixtures or, again, “institutions” within our souls. What we shared was so intense, so all consuming, so “us against the rest of the world” and so all-consumingly addictive that it forever becomes, in many ways, with all of the good and despite all of the bad, part of who we are. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." (Dickens).
Artie was (and still is) just such an institution in my life. There is a list of people, (I am not going to identify names, but you already know who you are if you listen to your hearts), who are forever welded into my consciousness. Please remind yourselves, right now, that we are all still important to one another. You are all institutions to me. Artie’s passing shattered any barely remaining illusions I may have had about all of us being indestructible and immortal and, from today forward, I plan to be even more purposeful about keeping you in my thoughts. Time is passing...in fact, there is no time...there is only now. “The future’s uncertain and the end is always near.” (thanks, Jim)
Artie had a lot of style, a lot of class, a terrific sense of humor and a beauty that glowed from within. A "Boz" cool. Mostly go with the flow, man, but keep the ship on an even keel. Give an’ take, like a rubber band. When I was with Artie, I always felt like I was home and with family. Artie was an artist of living and it manifested in his playing, whether on drums or piano. Artie was like a fluid clock with chops, deep pocket, so tasty, full of passion, each drum tuned, each riff right there. When we were on stage, if Artie was there behind me driving us forward, I felt invincible. I was proud of what we were doing together, and experienced unbelievable joy when we were doing it. I know that everyone in the band shared the same mutual bonds and feelings, as did those other precious souls around us.
Artie had a true love of fun, food, adventure, and people. He loved to laugh, and he was not afraid to cry. Like a child, he could get excited about the simplest things. I will never forget the day he introduced me to squash blossoms. His family had a traditional recipe to lightly bread and fry them. He said, “Hunter, you’re not gonna believe how good these are! People go crazy for these squash blossoms...when we have ‘em at home, everybody lines up at the stove!” So enthused.
Artie and Leslie were a phenomenal couple. Elegant, earthy, into it. One moment they could come off like Nick and Nora Charles; the next they could be more like Fred and Ethel Mertz. So much fun...and so real. And loved by so many.
There are endless Artie stories to share. But that’s for other days, other times. For me, today is simply to acknowledge Artie’s passing and to be grateful for his having been in my life, and for the amazing, irreplaceable, once-in-a-universe thing we built and the experiences that we all shared.
The space that Artie once occupied is now empty. He leaves behind a vacuum that will never be refilled. But he's still here, still with us, still inside us.
God’s grace to Artie, to his beautiful family, and my love to all of you.
JH
