RIP Jim Croce
Boarding a plane while reading an article about a musician who died on an airplane
Boarding a plane on the day Jim Croce died.
My dad loved Jim Croce growing up. Sometimes I like to say that I grew up in a musicless household but then, on days like today, when I’m reminded of Jim Croces untimely death, memories surface of my dad, also named Jim, singing Operator around the house.
My dad, my Jim, told me Croce had died in a plane crash when I was a boy. Croce, on the cover of his greatest hits, looked ancient to me then. I must have thought, that’s sad but at least the man lived a long long life. He was 30 when he died, 5 years a younger man to my 35.
I have a favorite Buddy Holly shirt that I love to wear when I’m home. If you see me with it on then it means I have no air travel immediately ahead or behind me as I refuse to bring it on airplanes with me. Being a songwriter who was born in Lubbock, I have a lot of superstitions, not to be mistaken for anxiety, around flying. I won’t bring Buddy Holly memorabilia with me when I fly, as perfect example. The other superstitions I won’t share here because I’m superstitious about those superstitions.
If I eventually do die on an airplane i like to think that maybe it won’t be so bad. I imagine it’ll be quick and I’ll get to see what true panic looks like with a few moments to get right with god. A lot of songwriters died on planes in the past of course, often on small Beechcrafts and Cessnas headed into bad weather towards some great beyond.
Today is one out of seventeen flights I will be taking in the next month. Im headed to upstate New York to play Woodsist Festival and then I’m off to New Zealand > Australia > Indonesia > Vietnam. Im playing shows in those first three countries and then vacationing with some bandmates in Hanoi (if you’ve been, all recommendations are welcome!). Hope to see some of you out there.
I write this from 20,000 feet where the plane is beginning it’s decent into LaGuardia, Lower Manhattan my window out my window.
If Croce were alive today he would be 80, and safe to call an old man. In an article I read this morning they mentioned that - with it being his 50th death anniversary - his catalog has seen a huge spike in sales. Still crushing it after all these years and beyond the grave. Good on ya, Jim, and thanks for the music.
Anthony Bourdian did a show with Barack Obama in Hanoi. They went to a small hole in the wall and ate Bun Cha. I was there in November 2018 and went; it's maybe the most memorable meal I've had. The name of the place escapes me, but a quick google and I'm sure you'll find it. Enjoy!
PS you took my camera from me in Toronto in October to take a photograph but sadly my roll of film had been shot through already. Truly sorry about that!
I had such a similar experience growing up, except my mom was the Jim Croce fan, and I was almost a year old when he died. And I also discounted growing up with him in the background, which I think might be because he’s been so overlooked.
“Time in a Bottle” was the first song that made me cry. I know I didn’t get the words, but I felt the music. I didn’t know until today that he wrote it for his son before his birth. Seems fitting.
Safe and fun travels! And for god’s sake, no Buddy Holly shirts on planes! Please steer clear of Skynyrd, too.