As the first day of summer fast
approaches, more than ever I feel as if the weeks are flying by. I was in the
kitchen last Saturday morning, thinking about what songs I would request for
Dale Antcliff’s weekend radio show on Hunters Bay Radio. That was my feeble
attempt to distract myself from all the toxic thoughts swirling around in my head
these days. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I felt as if I had done the same
thing less than a day ago. I never had such a palpable feeling that a week’s
time had simply evaporated into thin air. Poof! Gone. I spoke last week about
my anxiousness. Do any of you feel that way as well? The other day, my usually stoic
nephew from the States texted me and asked (and I paraphrase) “Is it just me or
does it seem as if the whole world has gone nuts?” I am reminded of the
commonality of our problems.
I was listening to Ben Harrison’s
TECH 5 show today on Hunters Bay Radio, and he spoke about the history of
pandemics. There have been hundreds over the centuries. He recited a staggering statistic: the bubonic plague, or The Black
Death as it was called at the time, wiped out 200 million lives, or about 26%
per cent of the world’s population in the 14th Century. I wonder
what it was like to be around then. Draconian quarantines and social distancing eventually ended that plague. By some accounts The Spanish Flu at the end of WWI killed 50 Million people worldwide and infected as many as 500 Million. This latest COVID 19 pandemic has so far killed
about a half million people worldwide. . We live in such a different world today, or at least I thought we did. I lived
with delusion that we North Americans are somehow immune to pandemics. After all,
we have science and technology on our side.
While Shauna’s chronic illness has
somewhat isolated us, and we have lived in relative seclusion for much of our marriage,
I’m not handling this latest isolation well. I was in Huntsville the other day
and there was a long line outside the liquor store, so I suspect some are
turning to self-medication to “handle” their isolation. No judgment here. Been
there, done that.
In some ways I am reminded of the
way I felt after our friend James Carroll died. Shauna and I were in contact
with him a lot in his last few months, and we put on a brave front at the time.
When James died, the grief crept in slowly, and insidiously. All the feelings I’d
suppressed while I was helping to care for him finally came bubbling to the
surface, and it was a sucker punch. James and I were the same age, and when he
died, I did not handle it well. Eventually, I sought a grief counselor to work
through my feelings. I think that in some way, that was similar to how I’m
feeling now.
Shortly before James died, I did a
personal concert for him in his apartment. The other day I found and listened
to the recording I made of that performance. Music has always been my go-to therapy
when I am lost. It re-connects me to others. Around
the end of March, I began to post short live performances of my original songs on
Facebook. I’ve done so weekly ever since; my way of connecting with anyone who is
out there listening. I’ve been playing a lot of my old songs, ones that most people
have never heard. I wrote so many songs when I was in my 20s and 30s, and I wanted
to get them out there in cyberspace for posterity. My songs are the stories
from my life, and I want to share that. I guess every songwriter wants that. Some of the performances are rough, and they
are always unrehearsed. It’s me saying, “here I am, warts and all.” They are my
honest attempt to connect with friends and strangers alike. I think we’re all
looking for that connection right now. Music and the love of my family works
for me. I hope you have something that works for you.
Written by Jamie Oppenheime+r ©2020 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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