This post has little to do with guitar. I am simply devastated by yesterday's (Jan 10th) announcement of the passing on January 7th, 2020 of the man who in my opinion is/was not just music's greatest drummer, but also its greatest lyricist.

I was aware that Neil Peart's health had not been good. I was not aware of the three plus years he was battling brain cancer. I did know that he was in chronic pain as a result of being an incredible drummer for over 40 years, driven by incredibly high standards.

There have been many Twitter and elsewhere tributes to Neil. The majority of them refer to his irreplaceable talent as a drummer. All accurate. Fewer recognize his incredible lyrics that for many people, so I understand, told stories of their own lives that they could not say themselves. Some lyrics provided listeners with targets to aim for, as well as offering reminders that it was ok not to be cool, not to fit in and to go your own way.

Much was made of Neil's early adoption of the principles of Objectivism and his use of concepts from Ayn Rand's Anthem and The Fountainhead in his songs. Much later, he was quoted as saying that he had changed to become a "bleeding heart libertarian". Many critics and writers took this as a refutation of objectivism. The reality is that a bleeding heart libertarian is a not-unreasonable characterization of many of Rand's protagonists. Libertarianism is an outcome of Objectivism. Caring about letting others lead their own lives is part of Romanticism. Those who have a massive hate on for Rand, either don't know or choose to ignore her philosophy text, The Romantic Manifesto.

Disagree if you wish, your choice, and that's the whole point. I'm wearing a "Who is John Galt?" shirt as I write this, so you have a good idea where I stand.

Neil once wrote that he could not "pretend a stranger was a long awaited friend". This is both indicative of his quiet, shy and private nature, as well as his conviction not to be inconsistent in his life. While I have met and spoken with both Alex and Geddy, I never got to meet Neil. In my younger years, I wrote to him. I never received a response, but that has always been less important than the writing of the letters in the first place. It's funny to say that while we never met, I always felt that he was a great friend, albeit at a great distance.

Neil's work did not change my life, but his elocution and thoughtfulness did give me opportunities to see things in different ways, and to learn many things that I had not understood. For these gifts, I am eternally grateful. Neil's autodidactic nature reminded me that one could learn without necessarily attending a school or following a set curriculum. Indeed, I have come to believe that following your own course of learning, exposing yourself to multiple approaches can be superior to a single structure.

One of the most poignant lyrics Neil wrote is in the song Losing It. I am glad for him, that he never arrived in the place identified in that incredibly sad song.

I did cry last night, as I sat playing along with the songs on A Farewell to Kings. It seemed the right record to listen to because Neil Peart was a king of sort to me. He never chased that role, and never claimed it. One of the many things that made him a king.

My thoughts and best wishes go out to Carrie and Olivia, and to Alex and Geddy. We have all lost a great man.