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Sea and Sand (RIP, 43 years ago, Keith Moon)

      I’m writing this on September 7, 2021, but at this exact moment I‘m in a cabin in the Catskills without a wifi connection. The solitude is good for the soul, and the hiking is even better. But it’s absolute hell when it comes to keeping up with the modern world.   Kind of the point, you say? Well, yeah, I try to keep that in mind, but today’s a big day for rock-star deaths, and, among that morbid roll call, none affected me more than the death of Keith Moon 43 years ago today (September 7, 1978). So here I am, chimping some diary -- as Mike Watt would say -- all to keep current as the calendar breezes past.   When Keith Moon died, I was 16 years old and deeply into a couple of things in the musical world: The Who and the emerging punk-rock scene, particularly the English edition of all that. Fueling and recharging my musical obsessions on a monthly basis was Trouser Press magazine.    TP was (one of) the (few) thinking person’s rock mag(s) – a real isla

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