The last time I was in Amsterdam,
I was visiting a friend who lived across from Central Station.
Along the way, I passed by, and noticed for the first time
a plaque on the wall of the hotel where CB ostensibly fell
to his death from his window.
He was a lifelong junkie, and had chosen a fitting place
to end his life. At the time, Holland and particularly
that district in Amsterdam were wracked by the massive
abundance of heroin that had flooded the country.
I was struck by why this hotel had chosen to commemorate his
death with a plaque marking (I presume) where he landed.
I never thought much of him as a player,
less as a singer, and neither of the two
documentaries about him did anything to
change my opinion.
I readily admit that I was never a fan of
West Coast "Cool" jazz, and I have always felt that had he not
been white with James Dean looks, he would never have achieved
the kind of cult-like adoration that he now enjoys in death.
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