“It is only that which cannot be expressed otherwise that is worth expressing in music.”
-- Frederick Delius 1862-1934: in “Sackbut” September 1920 ‘At the Crossroads’
Dear Tim:
To those who would say “suck it up," I offer this from Shakespeare’s “King Lear: “He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.” A “remember there are people worse off” self- comforting philosophy can only sustain one for so long. It gets old, constant pain. Yes, it varies, I’m sure. But so far, it’s always there.
Given what you’ve been through, at this stage, your level 8 would be off the charts for most of us.
That a visit to the ER puts the doctors and nurses in uncharted waters is understandable; that cost considerations ensure a suffering citizen must be “damned sure” before going there is unconscionable.
No worries about your performance at the upcoming benefit, my friend. I had thought about somehow not talking for a period as a show of solidarity, and, since you mention “certain people,” there are those who would sorely welcome such a respite, perhaps envisioning me as that Twilight- Zone-smokers-club-glass-room gentleman who, on a bet, has his vocal cords severed.
But I digress. Remember, because you have a dual role as both recipient of the benefit, and member of the audience, you can choose your persona. Perhaps we might have a close-circuit TV feed available at Jim’s, so that you might attend the festival, or avail yourself of the lakeside Lazy-Boy at your leisure. Your presence, though much welcomed, is not required. You have no obligation, that’s the point of all Benefits; it is precisely because of unforeseen burdens and obligations accrued, that we gather to assist our needy friends and citizens.
The “questioning and wondering” about your decision section of your letter is the part that leaves us all, I’m sure, like yourself, but not without choice, a little speechless. We can talk, literally, but metaphorically, we’re at a loss. There are no available analogies in our own personal experience we can appeal to. It’s not that we can’t talk, we either can’t find the words, or there are none. Perhaps it helps a bit to talk about not knowing what to say, about being halted by the risk of sounding presumptuous, about words losing their meaning.
Forgive me if I get emotional when I see you, the tears help.
We’re marshalling our musical forces here. I pick up Kuhli at 3:30 today, Brigitte and Amanda leave Sunday, and Kuhli, Shadow, and I leave Monday.
Love – Randy
PS: We’re bringing good weather (I hope, he said audaciously).
-- Frederick Delius 1862-1934: in “Sackbut” September 1920 ‘At the Crossroads’
Dear Tim:
To those who would say “suck it up," I offer this from Shakespeare’s “King Lear: “He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.” A “remember there are people worse off” self- comforting philosophy can only sustain one for so long. It gets old, constant pain. Yes, it varies, I’m sure. But so far, it’s always there.
Given what you’ve been through, at this stage, your level 8 would be off the charts for most of us.
That a visit to the ER puts the doctors and nurses in uncharted waters is understandable; that cost considerations ensure a suffering citizen must be “damned sure” before going there is unconscionable.
No worries about your performance at the upcoming benefit, my friend. I had thought about somehow not talking for a period as a show of solidarity, and, since you mention “certain people,” there are those who would sorely welcome such a respite, perhaps envisioning me as that Twilight- Zone-smokers-club-glass-room gentleman who, on a bet, has his vocal cords severed.
But I digress. Remember, because you have a dual role as both recipient of the benefit, and member of the audience, you can choose your persona. Perhaps we might have a close-circuit TV feed available at Jim’s, so that you might attend the festival, or avail yourself of the lakeside Lazy-Boy at your leisure. Your presence, though much welcomed, is not required. You have no obligation, that’s the point of all Benefits; it is precisely because of unforeseen burdens and obligations accrued, that we gather to assist our needy friends and citizens.
The “questioning and wondering” about your decision section of your letter is the part that leaves us all, I’m sure, like yourself, but not without choice, a little speechless. We can talk, literally, but metaphorically, we’re at a loss. There are no available analogies in our own personal experience we can appeal to. It’s not that we can’t talk, we either can’t find the words, or there are none. Perhaps it helps a bit to talk about not knowing what to say, about being halted by the risk of sounding presumptuous, about words losing their meaning.
Forgive me if I get emotional when I see you, the tears help.
We’re marshalling our musical forces here. I pick up Kuhli at 3:30 today, Brigitte and Amanda leave Sunday, and Kuhli, Shadow, and I leave Monday.
Love – Randy
PS: We’re bringing good weather (I hope, he said audaciously).
1 comment:
We are good for an extra 20 degrees and sunshine bringin your way.
Bonni Q & Mr. Quinn
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