Letter to Bob Martin

Bob,

I have a record store in Indiana. Somehow, as a life long music fan and musician I had never heard your music. A couple days ago I bought a box of old records from a gentleman who was cleaning out an apartment where the sole resident had passed away, and I found your record 'Midwest Farm Disaster' in a box mixed in with a bunch of old Zappa records and some other psych-rock stuff.

The cover made me curious. I closed down the shop, cleaned up the record, and put it on my turntable. My first thought was 'who the hell is this guy?'. I was immediately grabbed by your music. I'm sure you've heard stories like this for decades, but there is magic in this record and I have been listening to it over and over. When a record first grabs me I tend to obsessively listen to it for days on end until I feel like I've absorbed as much of it's meaning as I can.

At some point while listening I hopped on Google to see what I could learn about you...and then I saw you were gone. It weirdly hurt. You had just left this Earth about 3 months ago, but man - you had a long wonderful life and that made me smile.

In the past few days you made a mark on my heart and soul that hadn't been there before. The best kind of mark - the kind that makes you feel and think.
As a far away stranger, your music from all those years ago connected with me in a way that's inexplicable - this is the power of music. Especially when it's crafted by someone who is genuine and who really has something to say.

So thank you, Bob, for sharing your heart with humanity. Putting yourself out there helped someone like me find your messages, and people will continue to find you and the gifts you've left behind. Amazing.

Usually when I take in old records at my shop I just clean them up and sell them, but I know this particular copy of 'Midwest Farm Disaster' was meant for me. I'll never sell it.

I'll spin it and think of you often my friend. When my time comes to join you I'm sure this particular copy will find the next person it was meant to teach. See ya when I get there.

Your pal,

Dave