It was an interesting triumverate of deceased this year. James Brown, Frank Stanton, and Gerald Ford.

The Godfather of Soul, the father of news television, and … the inspiration for Chevy Chase’s best SNL bits. Hard to come up with a lasting Ford impression other than his unforgivable pardon of Nixon. He was more like the town drunk who happened to fall into a bag of cash. Nice enough guy, but more lucky than good.

Joe Barbera (of Hanna-Barbera fame) also passed, but four legs breaks the Rule of Three, so I’m going to ignore it.

I’d write a long obit about James Brown and what his music meant to me (not to mention the world), but he’s way too busy getting a new pair of shoes in his afterlife of choice, teaching Rick James what funk is all about. Nothing left to say, outside of the bad jokes that keep popping into my head (e.g. the hardest working man in showbiz is now Kid Rock).

Hit it!

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