The Aerie
The phone rang at 12:36 a.m. on Sunday. Moldy had become unresponsive.
Unfortunately, I was reading the final pages of "Flowers for Algernon"
at the time. Very poor chooice of reading, I must say.
Went over there on Sunday afternoon, luckily timing my arrival to
coincide with Tim's. The coffee table was gone, replaced with a
hospital bed. The shades were drawn against the glare. Moldy slept
heavily amidst a swirl of blankets, his dignity unprotected by a large
pair of Depends. Family and friends were gathered all around, coming
and going, trying to help out his wife. It was so reminiscent of my
dad that I wanted to scream.
On Wednesday last, the day after I visited, he went to the zoo with
the family of a friend. Thursday and Friday a little more dizziness,
but functional. Then on Saturday he apparently just shut down. Just
like my dad on December 6th: my dad went from
confused-about-the-shower to comatose in about two hours. Sunday as
mentioned Tim and I visited, but then Monday he came out of his coma.
Much to his annoyance he found himself surrounded by grieving family
and friends.
So Tim and I will visit again tonight and see how he's doing. My
understanding is that he's lucid but confused. What's difficult is
that I get the idea that everyone has steeled themselves to his
eventual fate except him. Now I'm certainly not going to be the one to
suggest anything that would threaten his determination to survive this
-- but it's also scary to get one's hopes up and then be disappointed.
As I've said elsewhere, a pessimist is never disappointed and always
pleasantly surprised. But this is a man's life here, so of course I'm
going to suck it up and be as supportive as I possibly can. If it
seems likely to help, I will don a cheerleader's outfit and shake
pompoms.
This is crazy-making. It's a good thing I'm an atheist, because if I
believed in God I'd have to track him down and kick his ass.
Meanwhile the wife and I went to see Melissa Ferrick, on Sunday night.
She was scheduled to perform at the Fine Line before that institution
decided to indulge in the bar-fire fad last February. Of course,
Minnesota being what it is, we unfashionably suffered no fatalities in
that fire.
But Ferrick shifted to the Cabooze, a bar located with three other
bars and a Harley dealership on an isolated traffic island near the
West Bank. Out in the parking lot were dozens of motorcycles. This was
one of the places I'd never gone when I was single, and so I didn't
know what to expect when my spouse and I showed up.
Inside was a much smaller stage and bar than I expected... and more
young lesbians than I would have guessed. Not that lesbians at a
Melissa Ferrick concert would be a surprise, just that they were all
so very young. They all looked like they could have just walked over
from classes at the U of MN or Augsburg colleges nearby.
Unfortunately, the concert didn't do a lot to dispel my Moldy-blues. I
kept flashing on the memory of being at the Triple Rock -- very near
the Cabooze -- at the moment when my dad died. I only found out when I
got to my friend Phil's house, but I know I was having dinner at the
Triple Rock when he passed away.
Stuart Davis opened for her, and he was actually a lot of fun: he
looked like Keanu Reeves fresh out of the tank in 'The Matrix', but
unlike Keanu, Stuart actually had facial expressions. His songs were
funny and literate, and I'm looking forward to listening to more of
them.
Ferrick then took FOR-ever to get onstage, and it was 10:00 p.m.
rather than the scheduled 9:00 when she started singing. On a Sunday
night when we had a sitter this meant we only stayed for about half
the concert. One of Ferrick's numbers lasted a full 25 minutes and
involved a lot of rambling, apparently impromptu lyrics based around a
central theme. None of which I recall at the moment.
I did slip my little Nomad IIc into my pocket to capture some of the
tunes, but I have no idea if the quality is acceptable at all. If it
is I'll link one in here later.
So we headed home at 11:00, regretfully, and missed the latter half of
the concert. Hopefully all the young women enjoyed themselves.
[1]Last
Posted by Albatross at April 16, 2003 12:00 AM