So, yes, let’s get it out of the way. It seems he died masturbating. And I know that no matter, what, every David Carradine conversation that happens after this point, will included the phrase, “Dude, you know how he died, right?” by some jackhole trying to be the only one with a particularly sordid piece of information. When it came to poor Michael Hutchence of INXS, I will admit, I was that jackhole, but that won’t be the case with David Carradine. While the way he died was certainly not the way anyone might have expected, the way he lived, which has been very well documented, was all many of us could have wanted and this is what should always be remembered.

Yesterday, June 3rd, 2009, Big Bill Shelley died. Frankenstein died. TV’s Shane died and so did Kwai Chang Caine. Rawley Wilkes died and so did The Duece, Poon Dong, Bill, Mr. Wise and many, many others, including six men currently in post-production who we haven’t yet even met. Hell, Cole Younger died yesterday. And we shall meet no more new men being carried in the body and spirit of the great David Carradine.

I have been a fan of David Carradine’s every since my father sat me down and told me it was time to watch The Long Riders, on our copied VHS tape. I was amazed. I have sought out his acting work ever since. David Carradine had a presence on screen of someone to listen to, someone to sit with and contemplate, even when he was playing sheer evil. He could be strong, brave, sensitive, thoughtful, terrifying and damn dangerous. His face told stories all by itself, and only told more as he got older.