Archive for the ‘personal’ Category

Another Year

Monday, October 29th, 2012

I think it’s approaching time to get back into the blogging thing in some capacity. First though, this probably means a complete overhaul of this site. Bring it up to speed with, I don’t know, some kind of magic. I’m still a little fuzzy. But it’s in my own best interest, from a career perspective as much as anything, to start defining my digital persona.

2012 will be yet another lost year as far as this goes, but maybe we can get some big things happening in 2013. Not to say that this hasn’t been a significant year in every other respect — took a great gig at 360i, getting up to speed on the world of plastic surgery prices and promos for BuildMyBod. Things are moving along — they just haven’t been here.

The ’00s in Music: 2001

Saturday, May 8th, 2010

Well, this is my first post of 2010, which means I am continuing to set a terrible example for bloggers everywhere. I have been legitimately busy — I moved to Brooklyn in February and now commute to the Ogilvy office in Manhattan — but that’s still no excuse for no posts at all. How much effort would it have taken to throw up some miniscule political update, or SEO tidbit, or talking dog video? It’s just laziness. I’ve said it before, and it’s always been a lie, but I will do my best to rectify this.

Last September I wrote a post about the year 2000 in music and what it meant for me personally. It was pretty extensive, and at this rate I’m not going to be able to cover the entire ‘00s decade (whatever we’re supposed to call it) until it’s time to start looking back on the ‘10s. But that said, 2001 was a major year for me and it’s probably worth digging into a little bit, even if I never get around to writing about the other eight years. So I’ll give it a shot and we’ll just see how it goes.

It’s difficult to know where to start with 2001. Once, that year had strictly futuristic, sci-fi connotations. Even more than “the year 2000,” a phrase which had been well overused by the time the actual (rather ho-hum) year came around, 2001 sounded like something bold and new. It was a strong and foreign looking number, no less novel than 2000 but somehow more serious, and more unknowable.

Starting the year off with George W. Bush’s inauguration brought 2001 back down to Earth, and fast. Now he is remembered mostly for the absurd amount of damage he caused to the world and to his country during his interminable reign, but prior to September 11th he was just kind of a joke. The image of awkward, bumbling incompetence is one he was never able to shake, but in early 2001 that was his only image. Remember That’s My Bush? He was a sit-com character, a charmingly inept doofus who had the presidency handed to him. John Ashcroft as Attorney General? It was laughable. Not that many didn’t recognize how dangerous the situation was, but it just didn’t seem possible that this administration would have a chance to do too much irreversible damage.

Of course, it did, and the only association with 2001 that matters now in this country could not be further from A Space Odyssey. But this post is supposed to be about the music, and about me. So where was I? Still in high school, getting my driver’s license, spending time with my girlfriend. I was on the upswing from the worst of my experiences with depression. I was engaging with people more, relaxing more, and just generally doing more. Musically, I was more confident than ever — my Bob’s Discount Furniture gig (and I’m not knocking it — that was a great high school job) allowed me to spend more on CDs than I’m sure I should have, and as a result I was starting to explore some of the depths of rock music that I’d never gotten to before. It must have been 2001 when I discovered XTC and bought their entire catalogue, a couple pieces at a time. And I must have bought music by Neil Young, and Television, and The Stone Roses, and Love, and Big Star — still all physical copies, though my pre-iPod MP3 library was beginning to get serious.

My personal memories of 2001 are really very positive. I’m sure I had meltdowns, and panic attacks about my future, and made stupid mistakes. But looking back, the pieces were coming together a little bit, and I think you can see that in the music I was listening to. It wasn’t all just broody and introspective anymore — I was opening up. If you had asked me at the time I wouldn’t have told you I felt dramatically better or different from a year prior, and I really would have meant it. But I didn’t have perspective.

So how to reconcile the 2001 I experienced personally with the 2001 we all wish we could forget ever happened? Let’s take a look at the contemporary music I was listening to at the time, and see if it helps to make any sense of it.

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The ’00s in Music: Introduction (Origins of Insufferableness)

Monday, June 8th, 2009

I can be pretty insufferable with my musical opinions. My inclinations were validated at too early an age, and too frequently. I knew what I liked before I was aware enough to take any outside factors or opinions into consideration – except for those of my father, an avid consumer of music, novels, films, periodicals, television. Much of our bonding, now as much as when I was a child, has extended from our shared fascination by (and addiction to) the phenomenon of human creative expression. I learned very young the joys of burying myself in art at the expense of learning practical life and social skills. I am certain I was predisposed to be that way, but those genes were undoubtedly only encouraged by a childhood home filled with music and the excitement of regular trips to the record store. (more…)

An excerpt from DIRGE, an unfinished draft

Monday, April 21st, 2008

“We see too many ‘noble deaths’; we see the degradation – the epic little charges of cavalry. And thus for this our spirit becomes low, tough like a boar, unbreakable – we die to the sound of the trumpet, as surely as the bees pollinate, the ants build; as surely as the storms swaling low over the South China port and into the brothels, where the women stood up in smoke; all of life is lived in moments, and each one dies in return; who is to say that our death is anything but another regular link? The trumpet stops as the musician’s throat is pierced by an arrow.” — Casimir Hieronym, 2006

Adam Szychowski

Monday, January 14th, 2008

Three days later and I’m still not sure this one’s really sunk in yet. Adam was a good friend to me in high school, but I hadn’t spoken to him much in the last couple of years. He emailed me last winter to express his sympathies after hearing about my mother, and what he wrote was strikingly eloquent and deeply felt. And that was Adam. I don’t want to get trite here, because that was something he was always able to avoid and to do so would be a disservice to his memory. Maybe I’ll come up with something meaningful enough to post later on. In the meantime, all I can say is this is crushing.

Jerry

Tuesday, May 15th, 2007

One of the many random thoughts that screamed through my head when my mother was thought to be at death’s door last October:

“It isn’t possible for Jerry Falwell and Fidel Castro to outlive my mother.”

Even for a devoted atheist like me, such a thing seemed so unjust as to be ridiculous, completely beyond all comprehension.

Well, Falwell’s dead and my mom’s still kicking, so maybe I can maintain my sanity for a while longer after all.

Now, how about you, Fidel?

My Mom

Thursday, February 8th, 2007

If you’re reading this, you probably already know a bit about my mother’s circumstances. Even so, I feel like I need to write about it in here at least a little bit, just so it’s all on the record.

If you knew my mother prior to this past October, you knew her as an energetic, healthy person. You probably also knew her as the morning show co-host and news director on WDRC-FM, a job she proudly held for over ten years. She would get up at three in the morning, then come home at noon to be a mom for the rest of the day. I’m the sort of person who’s much more content to sleep in, so I could never imagine doing all that. She wouldn’t have lived any other way, though.

On October 14, 2006, she was out shopping when she felt some chest pains. She had no history of heart problems, but she was very aware of the symptoms from her work with the American Heart Association. She came home, and when the symptoms persisted, my father took her to St. Francis Hospital in Hartford.

I was working at the video store that night, when I got the call she was being examined for chest pains. My father told me not to worry, that whatever the problem was, it didn’t seem to be too serious. The next morning, I got another call telling me to come to the hospital as quickly as possible.

She had a heart attack while she was in the ER that evening, though it didn’t seem like a big one. A cardiac catheterization was scheduled for the following day, to scope out the damage and see if a simple stent could fix it. The catheterization revealed a blockage in a small artery, which should not have been too difficult to take care of. But somehow, during the procedure, something horrible happened.

The major artery to the left side of my mother’s heart bisected while the doctor was performing the catheterization. I don’t know if this was somehow the fault of the doctor, if there was some kind of weakness in the artery already that no one could have foreseen, or if there was some other factor involved I haven’t even considered. All that remains open to investigation. The important thing is that people don’t generally survive that sort of event — there is immediately massive internal bleeding and the heart stops receiving blood.

She was rushed into open heart surgery and the artery was repaired, but by this time her heart hadn’t been getting blood for somewhere from 20 to 40 minutes. Doctors couldn’t get it started again — it was essentially dead. They decided they needed to hook her up to a ventricular assist device, a machine that would connect directly to her arteries and take over the pump function for the left side of her heart. This operation was successful, but the obstacle of clearing her chest of blood and fluids while all her other organs were failing from the trauma was a big one. After she was on the left ventricular assist device (LVAD) for about a day, it became clear that her right heart was failing from being overworked. Another open heart surgery switched her to a biventricular assist device (BiVAD).

Things looked very grim about 12 hours later — pretty much as grim as it gets. My mother, swollen and unrecognizable, connected to dozens of humming medical contraptions, lay with her chest still open in intensive care. Her lungs were filled with fluid and not getting nearly enough oxygen for survival. A priest gave her the Last Rites, and my father, sister, and I said goodbye to her. It was an indescribably excruciating moment.

Shortly afterward, a doctor remembered an old oscillator which was literally in the hospital’s basement. He couldn’t think of a more powerful engine in the whole place, so he brought that up in a last ditch effort to save her lungs. It turned out to be powerful enough — her oxygen levels rose dramatically, and thanks to the shape she was in when all this occurred, all her vital organs rebounded (except, of course, her heart). She was still about as critical as you can get, but she wasn’t dead.

The device her heart was on was short-term — it could only last about a week. There were other kinds of VADs that a patient could live on for a year or more, but if she was to survive long-term, a heart transplant would eventually be necessary. This meant transporting her to Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, with her chest open and in a medically induced coma. After a couple of days, a kind of super-ambulance took her up.

Dr. MacGillivray took her case at MGH, and his reputation makes him out to be pretty much the best cardiac surgeon you can get anywhere. He was still hopeful from the reports he had received that her heart might recover, but his mind changed when he performed the surgery (open heart #3 in the span of a week) to move her over to the long-term BiVAD. As soon as she could be stitched up and regain consciousness, she would start on the path toward getting on the transplant list.

It was nearly a month after the heart attack that she finally woke up, with thankfully no brain damage. It was as rough a situation as anyone could find themselves in — with no memory of anything that had happened, suddenly her health and her life as she knew it were gone. She was determined to get out of that hospital, though, and learned very quickly to live with the VAD as a part of her life.

Rehabilitation was steady — she had lost a ton of muscle being comatose for weeks, and it was difficult for her to eat anything with two chunks of metal sitting in her chest pumping her blood — and psychologically coming to terms with needing a new heart was very difficult. She was able to come home for Christmas, though, making her the first patient ever discharged from Mass General with a BiVAD as a bridge to a transplant. Her progress was pretty incredible, all things considered.

She was home for a while, with home health aides and nurses coming by every couple of days to make sure things were going okay. A couple weeks ago, though, it became apparent that her blood cells were being shredded — a risk of being on a BiVAD. She had to go back up to the hospital for some transfusions, while they tried to figure out if it was safe to switch her back to just the LVAD (the risks with that device are substantially lower). The consensus seems to be yes, that needs to be done.

Last week she had a stroke in the hospital — another risk of having your blood artificially pumped. It seemed only to affect her vision, and she is recovering from that much more quickly than anyone expected. Until they are sure that’s taken care of, they cannot perform the LVAD surgery, but it looks like that might be able to happen within the next month if everything keeps going well.

She is at the top of the heart transplant list in the region because of her circumstances, but high levels of antibodies make it hard to find a good match. We’re all hoping that, once she’s healthy enough again, she gets the right heart and can get off these machines for good. Until that happens, we just have to do the best we can with the technology that’s available.

This is where things stand right now.

New Job

Friday, January 12th, 2007

Yesterday I accepted a job offer to work as a full-time “search specialist” for a company called Global Strategies Int’l. If you have no idea what that means, and you probably shouldn’t, here’s the wikipedia entry on search engine marketing. That’s the stuff I’ll be doing. This is an entirely new field in marketing, and GSI is getting a whole lot of interest right now, so this seems like a great time to jump in. Looks like I found something where I can actually get some use out of my BA in New Media (recently renamed “Interactive Media,” apparently).

I expect I’ll be very busy with this job once it starts in two weeks, and there have been early discussions about turning me into their blogger (one of my goals in life has always been to have a business card that says “search specialist/blogger”). I will probably post occasionally about the job, though there are some company things I’m sure I won’t be allowed to reveal. Don’t know much about that yet.

Anyway, next post will go back to the 2008 presidential election, and the various Republicans pursuing the oval office.