I just finished being interviewed by OffBeat’s contributing editor, John Swenson, for our upcoming December issue, in which we celebrate 25 years of publishing OffBeat.

It was a walk down memory lane, for sure (good memories and bad), but it continues to amaze one as old as myself that so much history has gone down in the last 25 years. Believe me, a quarter of a century, ain’t nothin’, time-wise.

While being interviewed by Swenson, I thought about all the times in the early days of the magazine—when I had no idea what I was doing, but trying my best to do a good job—how difficult it was to break into the ranks of the local music community.

OffBeat and I were attacked by a few people in the music community for putting together projects that were perceived to be successful (thank God they thought what we did was successful, because I was living on popcorn and water in those days, taking the bus to work, and really struggling just to keep the lights on).  That was my first introduction to how petty and jealous some people in local music could be towards someone who they perceived was an outsider and somehow “threatening.”  It happened a few times, but once I realized that I was achieving the dream I had to have a positive impact on the local attitude towards music, and to get some recognition for local musicians and music businesses. Lesson learned. You have to take the high road and ignore people who are envious of your success.

I had forgotten that I only started writing the “Mojo Mouth” column some eight years or so into the history of the magazine, and I’ve certainly written a lot of criticisms since I started writing my column regarding the way government treats musicians and artists. I heard the late, great Bob French rail about a lot of people, musicians and establishments during our relationship. I liked his style.

Swenson also pointed out that OffBeat has served as a record of the lives of many musicians who are no longer with us, which is wonderful to know, and that includes Bob French. I’m glad to have known Bob, and I’ll miss his curmudgeonly, critical presence in my life. I so liked Bob because there was just no bullshit with him: he had an opinion, and he would let you know exactly what he thought without any artifice or thought of manipulating your opinion. He said what he thought, his listener be damned, which of course, got him in a lot of trouble. He was what he was, and you took him at face value. I can relate, if you know what I mean.

Have missed you for a while now, my man. Am glad you’ve passed on to a better place, and may your no-BS approach to life live on in those you’ve left behind. Mojo Mouth thanks you for the inspiration.