"Leroi Moore on the saxophone"
For those of you who have read Cypress Walls, you might recall a few entries that mentioned the Dave Matthews Band. I have been a fan since college and there were several summers in my mid-to-late 20s where I did not think twice about venturing near and far to take in a concert or two or three or even four. In June 1999, Shea and I headed to Nashville and met up with Mike for a show at the old Starwood Amphitheater, drove 200 miles home afterward and caught them the following evening at the Pyramid in downtown Memphis with a bunch of friends and family who had gathered for my sister's wedding. A couple of weeks later, I took an Amtrak train from Memphis to Chicago and then over to Milwaukee and saw two more shows with Tyra, one at the legendary Alpine Valley Music Theatre in East Troy, WI, the second at the Marcus Amphitheater during Summerfest.
While my zeal has tapered off, I was still shocked and saddened to learn of the passing of Leroi Moore, the quintet's steady-as-you-go saxophone/flute/clarinet/penny whistle player. He died suddenly on August 19th in Los Angeles where he was about to begin physical therapy for injuries he sustained in an ATV accident earlier this summer. As it turned out, the band was playing the first of two L.A. gigs that evening and, despite learning of Leroi's death just hours earlier, went on with the performance. From what I've read, Dave, Carter, Stefan, Boyd and company played valiantly, delivering an emotional and heartfelt tribute to honor their dear brother and his memory.
If you had told anyone directly or indirectly involved with the Dave Matthews Band that after almost 20 years of touring the world together and playing their music in front of millions, that June 28, 2008 would be the last night they would share a stage with Leroi, no one could have fathomed it. But life took a tragic turn and now they find themselves paying homage to him whenever they come together.
While these sad circumstances reminded me of how frail our time here on Earth is, they also instilled a sense of appreciation for the uncountable number of moments I have been blessed to experience with my own family over the past 34 years. A recent one occurred the day before Leroi died. My dad, brother-in-law Aaron his dad Vilas and I snagged four seats behind the third base line at the Ballpark in Arlington for a major league baseball game between the Texas Rangers and the Detroit Tigers. I've pulled for the Tigers since the Roar of '84, the last season in which they took home the World Series crown. In the first inning, Ranger All-Star Josh Hamilton, hit a ball in foul territory that ricocheted off a massive concrete awning behind us and then fell from the sky directly toward Section 17, Row 14, seats 3-4. Dad and I both reached heavenward and somehow I came down with the ball. It took several minutes for those 10 seconds to sink in and we were even more stunned when my sister sent me a text message that read "Were ya'll just on TV?" We later learned that an old friend of Aaron's dad watching the game in Michigan saw us from his living room screen and made a call to Texas to confirm his hunch. The Tigers went on to win the game 8-7.
Thanks for checking in. If you find yourself in the mood to listen to the DMB in the next day or two, you can't go wrong with "Live at Red Rocks." Leroi has an awesome solo on "Lie in Our Graves." Peace ya'll.

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