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Saying Good-bye...

Is there anything harder than suddenly, out of the blue, losing a friend? That's how today started for me and most of my friends here in Pittsburgh. We lost our buddy Osh. An early morning 2 car accident down in the South Side. It was over that fast.

I woke up already feeling like shit. Between my heart condition and sleep apnea, mornings suck for me in ways that, fortunately, most will never know. Imagine waking up feeling like someone has been suffocating you. That's how most of my days start.

I came downstairs, took my pills and flipped on the laptop to see what was going on on Facebook, while having my coffee. This is how I start most days. Today was bad. I saw a large number of messages in my inbox...rarely a good sign. The first thing I saw in my newsfeed was a post about a car crash. Right away, I knew it wasn't gonna be good.

I clicked on the post and read the article. Damn. Tommy Osh gone in a car crash. 47 years old...same as me. Way too young. For anyone. I just talked to him 2 days ago. He had a huge project that he was working on but wasn't talking about. He was worried he'd jinx it. He'd been asking me to help him learn a few different bass styles and how to make sense of chord charts for this project. Seriously...it was gonna be big. He was so proud of it too. It was his time and he was gonna make the best of it. He asked me not to divulge any details about the project...but let me tell you, I was jealous as hell and proud of my friend at the same time. We're talking Big Time stuff!

I met Osh back around 1990. Our bands used to gig together all the time...The Upstage, Decade, Zelda's, The Electric Banana, Anthony's...always seemed like we were doing a show together. And if we weren't, Tommy Osh was usually at the show anyway. Him and drummer Ang were ALWAYS out supporting other bands. Real Rock & Rollers, that's for sure.

But more than that, Osh was a character. He could be loud, obnoxious and crazy...but could also be the sweetest teddy bear you'd ever want to know. For as wild as he could seem to some, he was every bit as quiet and sensitive as a poet. He was a helluva songwriter and a bass player too. Any success his bands had was due, in large part, to Osh's determination and love for the music. Rock & Roll was more than his passion: it was his life's blood.

I remember back in our younger days, when we'd all go to a party after a gig. Osh was always there and always ON. He'd pick my brain about everything I knew about music. He'd ask about 'those fancy jazz chords' that I played or who originally did an obscure cover we'd played. If the guitars came out, of course we'd jam. Damn... I miss those days. I miss them even more now.

Osh was supposed to come over this week. I was looking forward to getting to hang out, just the two of us. We hadn't got to do that in years. Seriously...probably 15 years since the last time we got to hang out and just make some noise. Funny how life goes. It takes friends all over...but invariably, leads us back again. 

I've fielded calls from a number of our friends today. We're all just stunned, shocked, pissed off, and generally saddened by the loss of our friend. I guess what hurts most is in times like this, we're all filled with the woulda shoulda coulda's. What I think hurts us all the most is that we never got to say good-bye.

Good-bye Osh. Damn...I'm gonna miss you. Damn...

Matthew 5:4 "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

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