Rest in Peace, Doctor

The good Doctor

"You better take care of me Lord, if you don't you're gonna have me on your hands. "

Last night, in what is being called an apparent suicide, Hunter S. Thompson died. Thompson was found with a gunshot wound by his son Juan. I'd like to think that somewhere he's marvelling at the coverage his death is getting. He wrote a fantastic article for ESPN.com's "Page 2" last week about his new version of golf and a conversation he had with Bill Murray about it. Of the books he wrote, or compiled, I've read The Proud Highway, Fear and Loathing in America, Hell's Angels and Better Than Sex. The first 2 are really compilations of his letters home from 1955 until the mid to late 60s. Hell's Angels was by far the best of the 4, but there are many more to read. I've also seen Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas more times than I can count. In recent years his body began to deteriorate, he had an artificial hip, broke his leg in Hawaii and had had back surgery which caused him a bit of pain. Not that he didn't know how to medicate himself. HST was a living tribute to freedom, his excesses were legendary, and his writing was, well, Gonzo to say the least. Not many people will ever live a life as colorful as Hunter Thompson's. Not many people have the gumption to live such a life. He will be greatly missed.

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die"