Archive for the ‘Death’ Category

Seeing Danny

Thursday, March 31st, 2005

March goes out
like a lamb (he pronounces too smugly).

What a glorious day to walk to campus and swim my first laps since making the decision to switch from the Wellness Center pool. I saw a friend on the way, so we chatted, although I should correct myself and point out that a conversation with Danny can hardly be called a “chat.” In 10 to 15 minutes we touched on Bruce’s ordeal, prayer, grace, the soul, despair, suicide, Socrates, Hunter S. Thompson, Hemingway, St John of the Cross, the death of Terri Schiavo, eternity, Thomas à Kempis, and the origins of monastic life. There’s never been time for “small talk” when Danny and I see each other, which isn’t often enough. When I got to Centre the water temperature and chlorine level were just right. The sun was pouring through the skylights. Even the shower-head couldn’t have been in more satisfactory adjustment. When I tested the speed of my freestyle stroke, I matched my personal-best, single-lap sprint time. Perfection.

Various & Sundry, part eleven

Thursday, March 24th, 2005

— Now that the corner has been turned, and Bruce’s life has been preserved, he faces a difficult future, short- and long-term. A tough row to hoe, as they say. Today it appears as though the doc has given up on salvaging his transplanted kidney—too little function, too much chronic deterioration. This means more dialysis, a process which Bruce grew to loath, and will surely dread to accept back into his life on any regular basis. It may be several more hours before his awareness clears enough for him to evaluate his choices (or lack thereof). He’s being moved from intensive care to progressive care, and taken off anti-rejection drugs, narcotics, steroids, and sedatives, plus he’ll be down to a single tube—oxygen. One of the reasons they doped him is because he became combative and ripped out the nasal/gastric tube at least twice (as I might have, too, had I been in his situation). Or maybe I have that backwards (side effects of medication causing aggressive behavior and colorful use of language). In any case, the outlook is encouraging, but I’ll keep up my prayers. It’s likely that there will be more bumps in the road…

— If I came up with an idea for a new method of capital punishment—slow death by starvation—would it be declared cruel and unusual? If authorities came into your home and discovered all the pets were dead, would they say, “…within his rights—slow death by starvation.”? Sorry, just thinking rhetorically here. (Did I do the punctuation correctly on that?) “…I can’t imagine why, the world has time enough to cry.”

— As an avid watcher of Brian Lamb’s “Booknotes,” I was disappointed when he wrapped the 800-show series on C-SPAN. Listening to writers talk about writing makes me want to write. Listening to politicians talk about politics doesn’t make me want to run for office. Listening to artists talk about art definitely makes me want to make art. Now the only other good interview show with the classic all-black set is Charlie Rose. I think Rose is at his best when he’s talking to artists. Not that he doesn’t demonstrate the same level of skill when interviewing journalists and politicians, but I guess he tends to insert more opinions that sometimes irritate me. His recent conversation with Daniel Day-Lewis and his astonishingly brilliant and beautiful wife, Rebecca Miller (daughter of the late Arthur Miller), was just about as good as television ever gets. How in the world does he get these creative people to relax and describe the inexpressible aspects of their talent and craft? His style is totally different than Lamb’s, but they both make it look so easy. Not the performance (if that’s what you can call it), but the technique of coaxing the guest to say things that are genuinely interesting. I made the mistake of watching a perfunctory interview with Clint Eastwood, leading up to the Oscars, and the interviewer managed to avoid steering him to a single topic that was remotely enlightening… quite a feat, actually.

Gone too soon

Wednesday, February 9th, 2005

Danville lost another fine man this week, my friend Morse Marcum. If Dadbo had grown up in Kentucky, he would’ve known all the things Morse knew. We had many enjoyable lunchtime conversations about wildlife in the knobs, tobacco, timber, horses and mules… But there was one specific interest that only we seemed to share among locals: murals. Every time Morse would visit a town that had a mural he would bring his excitement to me and we would brainstorm about creating a mural in Boyle County. But we never found a patron. Rest easy, Morse. If I ever get to do another mural, I’ll surely dedicate it to you.

5th leading cause of death in USA

Tuesday, February 8th, 2005

The number of hospital patients who die each year from medical errors is equivalent to a jumbo jet crashing every day. Not surprisingly, Americans are worried. I’ll take my chances with a jumbo jet.

Mister Phelps vs Colonel Strom

Friday, February 4th, 2005

One of my all-time favorite character actors died yesterday. A staple guest star in the silver age of television, John Vernon brought total credibility to every role I ever saw him play, especially as a villain. Probably best known as the scheming Dean Wormer in “Animal House” or for his parts in Clint Eastwood movies, I’ll remember Vernon more for his multiple contributions to “Mission: Impossible,” and the satisfying finale of “Kung Fu.” More than anything else, though, he’ll enter my personal TV Hall of Fame for his memorable “Colonel Josef Strom” in the M:I episode entitled, “The Exchange.” In a rare departure from the series formula, Cinnamon is captured during a mission and undergoes ruthless interrogation. Barbara Bain and Peter Graves deliver outstanding performances, but it’s the smoldering menace in Vernon’s superb portrayal that made this show the most gripping one I’d watched since the legendary pilot, and that’s saying a lot. I’ll never forget the intensity of the moment when Phelps admits to the other members of the IMF, “They’ll break her, and then they’ll kill her.” With Colonel Strom in charge, I couldn’t help but “believe” they would! I also recall the climactic shock of seeing Vernon’s Strom yank out a submachine gun and cut down our defenseless hero and heroine at the Iron Curtain checkpoint. His masterful wickedness was forever sealed in Mission Legend with the brutal act, prior to our realizing that Cinnamon and Jim were wearing bulletproof trench-coats. Oh, the relief! Cue that immortal Lalo Schifrin score!