Most of the general public knows Elliot Smith as that greasy-haired singer in the white suit who held hands with Celine Dion at the 1998 Academy Awards. Maybe they liked his music from the "Good Will Hunting" film. I had always hoped that would be recognized as the soundtrack successor to Simon & Garfunkel's work on "The Graduate".

I was so excited when I found out Elliot Smith had been nominated for an Oscar. I still remember where I was--in a crappy diner being waited on by a one-handed waitress (no, really) in Albuquerque, NM. Cory was with me...we were on the way to New York. It was February, cold and I was more than slightly freaked out about everything. But as I read the morning paper, that news made me very very happy. I don't know why exactly, but it felt like a personal victory of some sort. I remember Cory laughing and agreeing with me and, I think, mostly enjoying the fact something like that made me so excited.

As it would turn out, I was very depressed being in New York and I remember the night of the Oscars I was in bed watching them on my small, crappy reception TV and I was exhaused—both from working really long hours every day and from being depressed—and I fell asleep shortly before he performed with Celine and Trisha Yearwood. When I woke up and realized I missed it, I was really disappointed and although Celine had won, I remember thinking: I really hope all those Academy members realized what a mistake they made.

For me, Smith was a musical savior. His Either/Or record got me through many a night in 1997 on the heels of a break-up of a very bad relationship. These days I'm in a much, much better place. I wish there had been someone or something there for him to get him through the sad and horrible thoughts and feelings that made him commit suicide. I got to see Elliot twice, once in 1998 at the Fillmore and once in 1997 at the Press Club here in Sac. There were about 20 people there. I think it might have been a Sunday night. He bummed a cigarette off of me and was quiet and shy and nice and gentle. And I wanted to tell him then that his record was saving my life almost every night.

But that's a hard thing to tell someone. No, it's a strange thing to tell someone. It makes you sound like the stalker fan. So I didn't. Now, I wish that I had. Not that I think it would have made a difference, but at least then I could have thanked him. I'll be playing "Either/Or" tonight--both in memory of a talented singer-songwriter who will be missed and as a reminder to myself that this too shall pass.