Ric Ocasek’s death provokes memories. And a question: Why had I already let him go?
What the devil is somebody’s grandfather doing singing my song?
It wasn’t just jazz she heard from the little portable record player. It was a statement of faith.
I dropped the needle on the Stones’ 1972 masterpiece. And everything changed.
They buried the funk in a small records section in a small drugstore. Dena Odell found it anyway.