Yesterday, I heard the sad news that Dolores O’Riordan died at the age of 46. I truly enjoyed her gifts as experienced in her haunting vocal talents. She fronted the 90’s “alternative” band The Cranberries. Too many memories to mention, so I’ll drop just one:
One night while in our cups, a buddy of mine (Brian S.) and I decided that we were going to go back to my house and steamroll my sleeping father while singing “Salvation”.
As the night passed, I got a booty call (this was before they were called booty calls) and went to an alternate location. I gave my house keys to Brian S. and he went to my house to crash.
When I arrived the next day, my father looked quite beside himself. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, “Fuckin’, Brian woke me up in the middle of the night by jumping on top of me and singing Cranberries.”
The best laid plans of mice and men, are followed through by devout friends, despite the call of the wild.
Peace, Dolores. Your music is magic.
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