I moped around the house most of the day on Sunday after I found out Lin Brehmer passed away. There have been a string of celebrity deaths to start out this new year and this one is probably the most painful.
Especially for Chicagoland, especially for Cub fans, rock and roll fans and all of us that made WXRT a way of life.
Last week we were talking at work about the deaths that have been in the news recently. I made the statement that I don’t usually get too bent out of shape, but it looks like I spoke too soon.
I felt the sting when David Bowie died and when Prince died. I was sad when Anthony Bourdain was gone and Robin Williams death left a huge void as well.
I’m sure the loss of Lin Brehmer will be part of Monday’s conversation along with the NFL playoffs, the economy and politics.
It sucks that a gorgeous voice, a positive voice is gone when so many negative ones remain. I just don’t see the fairness in that.
Chicago celebrities obviously hit closer to home when they leave the world. Radio personalities seem harder because they come into our home or drive with us around town. They become a family member, a best friend.
I remember how sad my dad was when Wally Phillips died. When I was a little kid I thought my dad was close friends with him, he loved him so much. Dick Buckley was another tough loss for my father, but the biggest pain for the Oldman was when Bob Collins crashed his plane.
Lin Brehmer’s voice gave comfort to my generation just like Wally Phillips did for my father’s age group.
Twenty years ago Lin started recording radio essays that he called Lin’s Bin. I’ve kind of modeled the Morning Chalkboard after it. He answered fans questions and talked about anything from baseball to Christmas trees to rock and roll, but mostly he talked about humanity.
The Morning Chalkboard has taken the same kind of direction. I always found it therapeutic listening to Lin’s three minutes study on life and now the Chalkboard has become that healing tool for me.
Yesterday I made hotdogs for Sunday lunch. I made two with mustard and two with ketchup. I popped open an Old Style because Lin would want that.
He loved opening day at Wrigley Field and would broadcast live every year from a bar across the street. So a beer and a dog was an appropriate meal on a day with such a loss.
When I was handing out hot dogs to the kids, Hazel asked me if she could have a bite of mine. Mine was one of the mustard hotdogs. The other one was for George since he is over the legal age in Cook County.
“Sure Hazel, but it has mustard on it….”
She took a bite anyway and said,
“Dad, from now on can you put mustard on my hot dog?”
The day that Lin Brehmer passed away my baby girl made the switch from ketchup to mustard on her hot dog. A proud moment for a Chicago dad.
Lin Brehmer was Chicago’s best friend, he made a point of telling us that. He also said, “It’s great to be alive.”
Knowing that we will never hear his voice mutter that ever again. We must all realize to never take life for granted.
He left his listeners last July before his medical leave of absence, “Take nothing for granted, it’s f-ing great to be alive….”
We will lose more Chicago personalities during our lifetime, but this one is going to leave a mark.
Have a great Monday, have a great week. Sunset is getting closer and closer to 5:00pm.
Pitchers and catchers report in a couple of weeks and before you know it the smell of mustard and grilled onions and the sounds of the ballpark will come alive.
Just like Lin would want it.
