Tag Archives: death

Reflections on the past, states of being, opportunity, and looking forward

16 Dec

As of last Thursday (December 13, 2012) my tenure with the Santa Rosa vertigo clinic is over. However, that hardly means my experience with vestibular rehabilitation is complete. Continue reading


Best laid plans of mice…

12 Dec

So about 30 minutes after yesterday’s Cutie post, I knew I had completely set myself up for a fall because… Yeah, rain. It just started raining about two hours ago, and like clockwork I woke out of a dead sleep and made my obligatory offering to the porcelain god. And I just feel like crap, so I’m going to lay down and try to sleep this off with the hope that I’m not legitimately sick, but just extremely out of it due to the water falling from the sky. Here’s a tune I’ve had on repeat all yesterday afternoon to soothe my rainy mood:

Last minute edit: I just learned that Ravi Shankar passed away. Fuck it all.

Seriously world? SERIOUSLY?

5 Dec

Damn, this is a really fucking awful year for my favorite Davids!

First Rakoff on August 9th, 2012 and today we lose Dave Brubeck. I am so incredibly saddened by this, you have no idea. Dave Brubeck is the soundtrack to the good parts of my childhood. I was brought up in jazz. I don’t mean this schlocky musically homogenized crap that Kenny G and his ilk spew out, I mean the good stuff. Oscar Peterson, Miles Davis, Thelonius Monk, John Coltrane, Horace Silver, Stan Getz, Henry Mancini  Vince Guarldi, Louis Armstrong, Gene Krupa, Buddy Rich, Nat King Cole I can do this for days, people. Jazz influenced my life in so many ways–screw classical, if you want your kid to hear something that’ll make their neurons twitch, go prenatal jazz with the Baby Einstein tapes.

My favorite musician? The one I identified with most? Hands down, Dave Brubeck. This was the first musical styling that connected to–not my dad’s, not any professional recommendation–my decision and mine alone. It was my first real strike at independence. At all the jazz festivals I’ve been privy to (as a kid I used to work hospitality for the musicians) Take Five was the first standard for which I could chew the fat with the swingin’ jazz cats. It empowered me in some pretty critical developmental stages. 

This sucks. It’s like losing a piece of yourself to the progression of time. And I feel as though I’ve lost so much of that over the past two years to this vertigo. Still, the one beautiful thing about the art form is that it can be preserved on CD. So, I’m going to pop in Time Out and spin away to the strains of the Quartet. Here’s to you Dave. Here’s to you.

If there was nothing to regret, there was nothing to desire.

1 Dec

The title of this post comes from an excerpt of a poem by Russian poet Vera Pavlova, and it happens to be the epigraph of David Rakoff’s collection of essays, Half Empty. David Rakoff is one of my favorite writers–probably in my top 10. Is he really that good? To me, yes. Yes he is. Continue reading

100 purple balloons for those who make my world go round.

24 Nov

Due to my personal familial circumstances, I am essentially an adopted a member of no less than five families. I love this, because I am never wanting for support, good stories, or love. However, during the holiday season, it does mean that my presence is a bit like a time share–it needs to be shared in a choreographed manner among several and sometimes mutually exclusive families. This, in an of itself, is a dizzying circumstance, but I do it anyhow because  it is what one does for family. Unfortunately I woke up this morning feeling extremely unbalanced. Continue reading