Chris Hobgood, R.I.P.

I got a call Thursday night from Jeff Peterson with this bit of news: Old friend, drinking buddy, Mentors fan, plate-shitter, gym-farter, general malcontent and probable genius Chris Hobgood was dead. Shot dead at the age of 36 in Knoxville. How'd it happen? Don't know. Why'd it happen? Who can say?

It's just another sign of the weird road that we run. My ex-wife said that my circle of friends have a curse on them. Yeah, a lot of people have died: the Sarge cashed in his chips about 5 years ago, Gary bit it on his motorbike about four years ago, Rodney let go this year, and now Hobgood takes a couple of rounds at 2am while cruising in his car.

I haven't processed this one yet; however, I'm listening to Sorry Ma (one that reminds me of the old days at the Marion building when we thought we were invincible), and in a little while I'll hoist one for the departed.

I have an old Super 8 movie that I made back then, and in one scene I have a tracking shot that takes in various party-goers as they go about their weirdness. Chris played the guy with a disbelieving, skeptical look on his face while reading the Bible. His scene ends with Chris becoming obviously agitated and giving the Bible the finger.

Here's to ya, Chris.