As happens all too often these days, I got the news from you good people at G:TB. Patrick Swayze, gone at age 57.
I'm an unabashed Swayze fan. No, really. The Outsiders, Red Dawn, North and South (Orry Main was a badass), Point Break, Next of Kin (underrated), and of course super-badass Dalton in Road House. Hell, even Ghost was about the most enjoyable chick flick if you ever had to see one. I'm not sure what all happened in the mid-90's where his career went all Costner, but I dug his heyday work a lot more than I would have figured.
And by all accounts, he was a tremendously good dude. 57 is young; that's 18 years away for me. 18 years ago (when I was sitting in the Greenleafe drinking electric lemonades, throwing darts, and listening to The Flannel Animals with Rob and Dave) quite obviously seems like not too far in the rearview.
So drink up and live well, people. And remember: "If you want the ultimate, you've got to be willing to pay the ultimate price. It's not tragic to die doing what you love."