I don't know if he liked me calling him Corky. If so, he never asked me not to. When I got acquainted with him, his reputation that usually preceded him had yet to reach me. He was an early champion of The Gourds and me in particular. And for that, I am forever grateful. He meant it. That's the one thing we all know about Michael: he says what he thinks. Not a lot of sugarcoating. I took his praise at face value. I think he was more of a Gourds than a Shinyribs guy. He would call me on my bullshit, though. I don't think his BS detector was well-calibrated. But at least he had one. Nor did he fear using it. He was a rascal, a raconteur, a provocateur, he spread plenty of a manure. And wrote beautiful prose about the things he adored and abhored.
I especially loved his sports writing. He could have been huge at ESPN had he got the shot. Or even wanted it. Whenever he did a list of austin or Texas music I would always hope to be on it. He made me feel special and seen. And essentially helped legitimize me as an artist worthy of attention and support. He was always a delight to talk to. His world-weary rap with a twinkle in his eye. I will miss him very much. Our deepest condolences to his family and loved ones.
Photo source MichaelCorcoran.net
Condolences to you, Kevin.
My heart to yours, Kevin. Didn't he write something wonderful about you recently?