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a bird named Keith: my Who story

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A bird named Keith: my Who story

The passing of John Entwistle has saddened me. I was a big Who fan back in the day. I wrote something about Boris the Spider and Happy Jack in my high school yearbook. Who's Next was a constant soundtrack to the nights spent hanging out in sumps and graveyards, drinking Heinekens as if we were rich and immortal.

Not one to let an opportunity to tell a story pass me by, here's my Who related tale:

In August of 1978, I got a bird for my birthday. He was a finch, a little bird who made a lot of noise. I named him Keith, after Keith moon. This was in the midst of my Who craze.

Less than a month later, Keith Moon died. Less than a week after that, my dog, Spanky, and my cat, Damien, conpsired to kill Keith. Damien knocked the cage down and when we ran into my room to see what the commotion was about, Spanky was tearing ass out the doorway with a squealing Keith in his mouth.

By the time we captured Spanky in the backyard, Keith was dead. Just days after his namesake.

I stuffed Keith in a Ziploc bag and put the bag in a shoebox. I went into the backyard, held a short ceremony with some friends present, and buried the box in the garden surrounding a huge oak tree. We cried, we told Keith stories, we reminisced about the two weeks he was with us. We cursed Spanky and Damien.

A week later I was in the backyard when I noticed the dirt near Keith's burial place had been upheaved. Upon further inspection I saw that the box was sticking out of the ground. Keith was still in there, still dead. I blamed those monster pets, Spanky and Damien.

Later on my sister, who was nine at the time, confessed that she dug Keith up. She wanted to see if he was still there. Well where the hell else was a dead bird going to go? Do you think he got up and walked to the store for some bird seed? Personally, I think she just wanted to make sure that he was really dead. You know how nine year olds are.

More than 20 years later, Keith is still dead. And I'm glad I don't have a bird named John.


Entwhistle was a fucking bass GOD. Why can't some of the freaking Rolling Stones start dying off instead??? (And no, Brian Jones doesn't count.)

I'm tippin' my 40 to the Ox tonight. :(

Heh! Ian's comment was perfect.

Then again, everyone knows Keith Richards already IS dead; he's one of the Undead now . . .

I also LOVED that LP, Whos Next. I believe the song, "My Wife" was an Entwistle write. It was my favorite on the LP.
That LP was my soundtrack too. Really great stuff.

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