Werewolves of London, and No Fooling of a Seven Year Old

Warren Zevon
It’s pretty cool when your seven-year-old son is walking around the house singing “Werewolves of London” without any instruction on the subject. I know he’d heard the song before but today he heard it in the car and it put its hooks into him. He could not stop with the “Awoooooo.” I thought it a teachable moment — we got onto the Spotify and I pulled up other Warren Zevon songs and played them — he was unimpressed. And I had to admit — as much as I like “Excitable Boy,” it’s no “Werewolves.” I tried to think of other artists like Warren Zevon, or other songs that had great piano riffs. You end up with what? Jackson Browne, maybe. Billy Joel, but he’s too — Billy Joel. Ben Folds? Didn’t really want to go there. It was all a big waste of time. We played “Werewolves of London” about 10 times in a row and were happy with that.

Then I told him it was very sad, Warren Zevon died not too long ago from cancer. Turns out it was actually September 2003, which means we’ve been Zevon-less for a decade. I remember back then, when he wasn’t doing so well, he appeared on Letterman for most of the show (Dave was a huge fan) and he said that his advice as a guy dying of cancer to people who aren’t dying of cancer (or perhaps don’t know they are):

“Enjoy every sandwich.” We should all try.

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