The other day I was suffering from a bout of food related sickness, or the flu or exposure to black mold or the combination of all the above, when I got the news that "MCA", aka Adam Yauch had passed away from cancer at the too soon age of 47.
Although I've never been or pretended to the biggest fan of the Beastie Boys, my older brother was, and as a direct result, thus I was introduced into the world of hip-hop, a style, culture and theory of music that I hold dear to this day.
You see, I grew up white and suburban. I'm still one of those things, but the bridge they established, between urban/suburban and black/white is one that I respect the fuck out of, and also one that formed my world view as I sit here now.
It allowed me to understand and appreciate the differences growing up in America, in that although our culture and population may have serious differences, perhaps even ones that can never be resolved, we can agree on one thing: music, and the way it allows us to express ourselves in our own unique way.
Although I've always loved music, from my father's old Jackson 5 record's, to my brother's Sublime CD's, to my various friend's MP3's, I've never been musically talented myself. But, and although I don't consider myself all that talented in other mediums, they have all informed my attempts in one way or another.
MCA may have passed, but in a roundabout way, he allowed me to be me, and hopefully, actually I'm sure, he was inspirational to others, and his legacy shall remain into the future to continue. May his gravelly voice rain down upon us forever.