I was driving home from work on Friday afternoon when the song on the radio stopped and the DJ came on, listening to a comment from a caller.

"Is it true that Kid Rock died in a plane crash?" the caller asked, apparently out of breath with the thought that such a musical luminary could die at the peak of his popularity.

"Yep, he's gone," said the DJ, who then cut right to the drive-time traffic reporter.

"I heard that earlier," the traffic reporter said from her cell phone. "That's so sad."

And I thought, wow, I sold all my Kid Rock stuff a month too early. Not being a fan of the white pimp, it didn't really hit me hard that he might have perished in a plane crash--how Big Bopper of him. And the thought that Madonna's recent kiddie keyboard remake of "American Pie" might have a bit more resonance didn't really cross my mind at the time either. Just the thought that I sold on E-bay a couple of 1993 promotional Kid Rock items my older brother had given me a little too soon. I'd jumped the gun on the Kid Rock wave. I should have waited for him to die.

At the moment, I still don't know if this Kid Rock death story is true. I couldn't find a single news story on the Internet saying it was. And if there's a place to find confirmation of rumors and innuendo, the Internet is the place. I even looked up the web site of the radio station I heard the news on and nothing about Kid Rock could be found. So I'm thinking the guy is still alive and kicking.

Either way is fine with me. I have no affinity for the recent rash of white boy rap. I don't understand why a white boy can be so stilted and without flow or eloquence and be considered on par with his black rapping counterparts. But that could be me, I tend to have a hard time accepting every new "great white hope" that comes down the pipe. And to be truthful, it ain't my music anymore. My demographic is clearly entrenched in 80s nostalgia, so I really shouldn't talk about anyone else's childhood hero.

One of the interns where I work also interns at the radio station that broadcast this devastating news. She told me one day that Kid Rock's music is actually created by Mike D of the Beastie Boys, who wanted to see if he could make a hit under a different name. I'm not believing this little rumor either, but it's an interesting side note.

If Kid Rock is really dead, then his cultural impact is not great. I only say this because if it were true, you'd think someone would write a story about it. We dissect the arrest of Puff Daddy and Jennifer Lopez in Newsweek for God's sake, you'd think that Kid Rock dying would merit at least a nice bit of Internet swill. He has sold millions of copies of his latest album, obviously someone should care--they spent $15 on his CD.

The only celebrity death that really affected me when it happened was Kurt Cobain. I was and still am a fan of his band's music. His suicide summed up the mid-90s for me, lots of desperation and lost hopes. But Kid Rock? It's trivia to me. Fodder for a few jokes before the quick dismissal.

I made $20 off of a 3-song promotional CD and an advance cassette of one of Kid Rock's older albums. Beer money. Part of a night out on the town thanks to the fanaticism of a couple Kid Rock fans. Thank God for E-bay.

To be truthful, I didn't stick around for an explanation of the Kid Rock Dies In Horrific Plane Crash story on the radio station. Maybe after drive time traffic the DJ clarified the situation, who knows? I don't listen to drive time traffic because it always concerns roads that I don't travel when going home from work (I travel in the opposite direction of most commuters). I flipped a tape into the car stereo and began to sing along to my mix tape.

Kid Rock died. Damn. Somebody pass the taters, I'm awful hungry.

Matt Worley is sometimes a callous and uncaring human being.