A Goodbye Letter to David Crosby
Rest in love and song
You probably don’t remember me, but I was the older guy drinking lavender tea at the Good Cup in Santa Barbara four years ago. I recognized you right away. You stood at the counter with your long, white balding hair and walrus-style mustache. You were wearing a T-shirt and had black suspenders. You were taller than I imagined, like a giant Yoda.