Monday, August 15, 2016


Over the course of the past 18 months, readership of AM has grown to nearly 5000 readers a month. On July 18 it was time for some family R&R, so off we went to Colorado. We hiked and explored, went off-road, ventured off to Mount Rushmore, saw elk and caribou and mingled with Boulder's hipsters. A splendid time was guaranteed for all - until I ended up, on the last day, in intensive care with acute pancreatitis. Honestly not recommended. It was the thoughts of my wife and family that somehow, through a haze of morpheme, saw me through. With that exception, nothing mattered; not what I loved, not literature or travel or even music; the intensity of the pain was that overwhelming. All I could do was to push the black button again - every ten minutes I could activate the morpheme; every ten minutes it was just bearable. 

I'd convinced myself long ago that "Landslide" was the last song I'd ever hear. I never heard it. Maybe the pain wanted me to.

Nonetheless, I never lost sight of family; that was it, my only motivating source; everything else gone or trivial. It was ten days before the music came back, before I started to hear songs in my head again. I think it was a phone call. My wife's ringtone is 10cc's "I'm Not in Love," for other calls it's "Ventura Highway." I heard the familiar acoustic riff and I answered. It was a wrong number, but it didn't matter, the riff was there - the music came back.

Usually reserved for for heavy drinkers, 15% of acute pancreatitis cases are idiopathic - I was one of the lucky 15; there was no cause at all for my bout with mortality.

It was so nice to finally open this page again and still find readers and fellow aficionados. The Dead is back in me. So are The Beach Boys and The Beatles and Frank Sinatra. On my road to recovery, I'm still not up to a posting each day, but stick with me; the music is back and getting louder...