RIP Martin.
As I sit here, alone in my apartment in NYC on a rainy Friday night, my mind does what it does best: think, ponder, and reminisce. Reminisce about a simpler time, the dinner with my girl and moms digesting in my belly, and the music that has been the single constant in MY life (much like Desmond Hume in LOST).
I am normally conscious of my fellow neighbors, but tonight, in sweatpants, I can't help but tap the trigger known as the volume to one that seemingly tries to reach through the stars and straight to heaven...where our good friend -- THE MEESTER -- Martin Fierro, has gone.
If nothing else, his music and corny-ass jokes will live on.
"Cole's Law" is ringing through my ears, as I wallow in the comfort known as life...and music. Probably my favorite sax player *EVER* for the style and grace he exuded, I will always think of Zero bringing me into the "Pits of Thunder" at The Wetlands in the mid-90's, the sit ins with the Steve Kimock Band at the Great American Music Hall in San Fran, and for one more magical visit over the last few years.
Always a humble musician, and more humble human, he will be sorely missed...especially by my ears.
Thanks Meester.
"Be sure to wear Zero underpants."
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