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Nineteen years later, the death of Kurt Cobain is a Gen-X cautionary tale

I remember clearly the moment the news of Kurt Cobain's death was announced, nineteen years ago.  I was 23 years old then, and I remember being restless the entire afternoon.  I couldn't wait to get off work.  I needed to get home and make some calls.  I had been in negotiations the previous week to buy an autographed photo of Cobain and his fellow bandmates, negotiations that obviously fell through because that photo tripled in value in a matter of minutes.  I was crushed, but not for the reasons you probably assume.