I am fortunate to be alive. It’s been two years now, since Thanksgiving 2021, when I caught the COVID-19 virus and beginning on December 3, 2021, I was hospitalized for 53 days.
It came extremely close to killing me.
Since, I’ve become even more aware of living life to its fullest and capitalizing on its special moments—which has brought an added layer to my gratitude in this season of giving thanks.
“When gratitude becomes the center point of your life, everything else begins to more easily fall into place.”
This was written prior to getting sick, as I had already embraced gratitude and the beautiful aspects of life. But now, two years after nearly dying, the clarity of gratitude is even more crystal clear.
My medical records show that during the early days of my fight, there was “a high probability of expiration overnight.”
Since reading that, those words echo in my head daily. Second chances at life, we all deserve them, but most of us never receive them.
I constantly think about what I am going to do with this second chance. I’m sick, so I need to keep my ambitions in check. So, for now my biggest purpose is to be kind and positive. To give someone a little hope when they are struggling to find it.
Shake Yourself Free, was released last spring. It’s helping people, and that gives me a satisfaction that is so deep and complicated, that I struggle to articulate it. I spent five years working on this book–most mornings around daybreak. For it to be out and helping others; wow! It has 43 5-star reviews now on Amazon. My publisher texted me last weekend and said he can’t remember the last time he saw a book with so many reviews with 100% of them being 5-star.
I’m working on my next book, about the lessons learned from this covid battle. But with my the brain issues from this battle, it’s tough for me to focus enough to make as much progress on it as I’d like.
But that’s okay.
Fatigue is still a constant issue. Thankfully, I can take a nap most afternoons. My pulmonologist has recently put me on a nebulizer. This is a small machine that turns liquid albuterol solution into a mist, which allows for easy absorption into the lungs. My lungs are extensively scarred and damaged from the effects of the respiratory failure from covid pneumonia.
As I reflect on how far I have come in the past two years, I truly feel nothing but gratitude.
Every year I share the 9/11 story of myself and my childhood best friend, Mike.
It’s an amazing story of baseball, beer and friendship.
In 2016 our story went viral by being told by Mike Rowe on his “The Way I Heard It” podcast. The episode was called “You Don’t Know Mike”.
Here is our story.
Back in 2001 I worked in the grocery business for Wild Oats Markets, overseeing stores throughout the country.
In early September of that year, I was sent to the east coast. Starting in Florida for two days, I then flew to Boston for a day before driving to visit a couple of stores in Connecticut.
On September 10, 2001 my co-worker Simon and I finished our project several hours early in Westport, CT. It was noon and we realized that we suddenly had a free afternoon and evening. We weren’t scheduled to fly back home until more than twenty-four hours later, on September 11th from La Guardia Airport in New York City. My mom texted me and said, “you should go to Yankee Stadium, Roger Clemens is pitching tonight”.
We checked out of our hotel and headed down to New York City right away.
We bought great tickets near home plate, then it started raining like crazy. The game was delayed. After an hour or so we headed into the stadium and got situated into our prime seats near the field, between home plate and first base.
We just got into our seats and right in front of us was my lifelong best-friend Mike and his wife Elena walking by. I was in disbelief, such a wild coincidence! Mike and I had been to dozens of LA Dodgers games together as we grew up in Bakersfield, California. Now here we were running into each other at Yankee Stadium.
The rain started up again and the game was cancelled. Mike and Elena didn’t have a vehicle at the game, and we didn’t have a hotel booked for the night. So they jumped into our rental car and we headed to their apartment in Hoboken, New Jersey.
We could see Manhattan and the World Trade Center perfectly from Hoboken. Energized by the sight, we came up with the idea of going to visit Mike’s office in the morning to see the amazing view on our way to the airport.
Throughout the night I called my wife, my parents and a few people that I worked with. I told each of them how unbelievable it was that we ran into Mike and Elena and that we were going to spend the night at their apartment. I also shared my idea of going into work with Mike on our way to the airport in the morning.
Mike, Simon and I went to a great little Irish Pub in Mike’s neighborhood. The Harp’s and Guinness’s started flowing. We listened to music from a great jukebox and had a lively, beer-fueled conversation, as Mike and Simon hit it off really well. Mike kept saying he needed to get to bed, but we kept insisting “one more beer”.
We left the bar at closing time and headed to Mike’s apartment.
Once there, our drunken voices were loud, as we tried to talk over blaring music we were playing from the Pixies, and The Smiths. A few times Elena got up and told us to be quiet. After 3AM we finally went to bed with the obvious agreement that we would not be getting up early to go to work with Mike. We said our goodbyes as Mike said he’d manage to be up early.
When I woke up not too many hours later, I heard the shower going. Then I heard someone leave the apartment. A bit later I finally salvaged enough energy to get up. I told Simon to get off the couch and jump in the shower. I turned the TV on. I immediately saw that a tower had been hit. I opened the curtain and could see the smoke as I looked at lower Manhattan out the window.
Panicked, I assumed I had heard Mike leave earlier. But I rushed towards Mike and Elena’s bedroom and hollered for him. No response at first, so I kept hollering “Mike, are you in there?” Finally, Mike replied with an attitude that he was still in bed because he was hungover.
It was Elena that I had heard in the shower earlier. Her daily destination was the train station in the basement of the World Trade Center. She worked adjacent to the World Trade Center at One Liberty Plaza and had been alerted to the first tower being hit just prior to departing the train station in Hoboken. She turned around and headed back to the apartment. I will never forget how extreme the emotion was as she rushed in and thanked us for keeping Mike up so late.
Mike worked for the small investment banking firm Sandler O’Neill. His office was on the 104th floor of the South Tower of the World Trade Center. Mike wasn’t at his desk that morning because for the only time ever, a hangover kept him from going to work on time.
There were eighty-two of Mike’s co-workers in the office that morning. Despite the reassurance over the loudspeakers to stay put, sixteen of Mike’s co-workers took the elevator down to vacate the building after the first plane hit. The remaining sixty-six stayed and continued working.
They did not survive.
The reality of the day started to take over as the shock made way to Mike coming to the overwhelming realization, sadness and confirmation that so many friends and colleagues did not make it.
With the airports closed, Simon and I stayed with Mike & Elena for three more days. On the 12th Simon and I took the train into Manhattan to show our support for the team at our company owned store at 89th & Broadway. We visited the store and then walked the relatively empty streets of the city.
I was blown away by how kind, unified and helpful everyone was in the aftermath of this tragedy. People were solely focused on helping people. It was the best I have ever seen in humanity. The image and feeling of this unity, sincerity and goodness was life-changing for me, staying with me ever since.
Mike and I talk every year on 9/11.
Never forget 9/11/01.
—
Earlier this year, I published my first book, Shake Yourself Free. This 9/11 story is told there in even greater detail; including the valuable lessons to learn from this story, as well as action items to use in your life.
Since my 53-day hospital stay, I can realistically say that in many ways, I am a shell of my former self.
The fatigue is like nothing I ever imagined prior to getting sick. All my energy is gone by early afternoon. I need a nap every day.
My brain doesn’t work like it did. I can’t seem to learn new information. I have always been an overachiever, now I struggle to get the simplest of tasks done. I have nerve issues in my hands, feet and eyes.
My lungs are still a mess. I have severe lung scarring and it seems like my breathing has worsened in the summer, with Arizona temperatures so high and air quality so bad.
But I am putting tremendous effort into doing my part to impact my health and wellness. I’m working closely with a naturopath friend on finding the right balance of vitamins and supplements. I continue to do yoga with my good friend Stacey, she used to be my assistant in Jackson Hole, she teaches me by Zoom from San Francisco. Yoga has been incredible for me, as I love the clarity, peace and breathing development it provides while challenging me physically to do some things, I never would have thought possible. With my brain struggling to quickly process. Stacey works with me on revving up the neurons in order think and process more quickly.
I’m also working on this at physical therapy. My PT team has been a godsend for me. They are so positive and creative in their approach. My mom had a stroke last fall, which resulted in AVM brain surgery. I felt so strongly about the good work this office does, I had her referred to there too, so we go to our appointments together, which is a lot of fun.
Dr. J, who runs the PT practice, is a former professional MMA fighter. He now trains both amateur and professional fighters. He incorporates boxing into my training. Working with him and his staff is a highlight of my week, as they challenge me in a lot of ways, including my brain’s recognition ability and work on improvement in my reflexes.
I’m at my best in the morning. First thing each day I go to the coffee shop, sit outside, and I do some writing. After a couple hours, I return home to go out on a long vigorous walk, with my music blaring and a couple grocery bags in hand as I pick up cans and bottles littered along the path of my walk. Every few weeks when I have enough collected, I take them to the local recycling center and donate the proceeds to charity.
Then I sit outside under my pergola (with my dogs being nearby ), I have the misters cooling me off and the music blaring I do some exercising, mediating and yoga.
The release of my book, Shake Yourself Free, earlier in the year has been a tremendous blessing. It’s given me something to be extremely proud of, and a purpose to move forward with. To hear the enthusiastically positive feedback from so many that have read it, and to read a lot of 5-star reviews has been such an important experience for me. To have my painfully difficult journey now helping others, gives me a validation that I can’t quite clearly express yet into words.
What’s next? I am not sure. I’d like to soon get started on writing my next book. I don’t think my brain yet has the stamina for such a disciplined, hard-working task. I keep putting off getting the audio version of my book recorded–I’d really like to focus on getting the energy and brainpower to get that accomplished soon.
It’s been an adjustment not working. But I can’t imagine being able to work anywhere near the level that I always was able to perform at. What I miss most right now is the connection with people. I’ve always been a leader of people, and in more recent years have gathered so much positive energy from others. I miss that connection more than anything.
In a few weeks I am flying north for a book event in Jackson, Wyoming. I am really excited about this, as the people up there are truly my people. Jackson Hole is where the new me so positively began to take shape, over a decade ago, as the local grocer and volunteer radio host. It’s surreal to be heading back up there to see so many of the friends and connections I made to discuss and celebrate my book with them. The bookstore, Jackson Hole Book Traders, is in the same shopping center that for years I spent most of my waking hours in—running the local grocery store. As the long haul of this phase of life sets in, this upcoming trip couldn’t be coming at a better time.
I’ve worked hard at practicing positivity in the last several years. I believe that without this mindset shift, I would be spiraling downward into a funk and even depression. But I look at each day as a true blessing, as I came so close to not being here anymore. Daily I try to perfect the balance of staying active and energized, while also getting plenty of rest. I continue to eat right, limiting the carbs and sugar, while not snacking between meals. I still love an occasional beer, but I do keep my alcohol drinking to an absolute minimum.
I listen to more music than ever. All day every day. Concerts are my thing, and I’m blessed to continue to go to as many as possible, usually with my oldest son Dylan, and his girlfriend Ashley. I feel fortunate that they truly make me feel welcome and not as a tag-a-long. Currently, I am looking forward to Tuesday night, when we’ll see our favorite modern goth band, Cold Cave.
Our youngest son Taylor lives in San Diego, he came for an extended visit in August. This was so nice. After coming so close to dying, importance of family has brought on an even stronger meaning for me. What truly brings me joy has really been simplified.
I couldn’t have a better wife. Shelly never, ever allows me to feel sorry for myself, which is so important for me right now. I’ve learned such valuable lessons from her as she has exhibited so much grit and grace since her traumatic brain injury ten years ago. Our styles are very different, but we are both so similar in our values, work ethic, and focus on resiliency. We manage to find ways to have fun every day; that in itself is a blessing.
For anyone reading this that is suffering from the effects of long-covid, I encourage you to find a path that is comfortable for you. Try to stay active in your approach. Find your routine in the most positive manner possible, incorporating exercise and wellness into it. Doctors have continual told me that if I hadn’t finally put emphasis on my health a few years prior to getting sick, I most likely would not have survived. Most extremely sick diabetics that they saw did not have the strength or determination to combat the ferociousness of the virus. I focus on wellbeing with the thought that my foundation must be built as strong as possible, both physically and mentally, to overcome whatever comes next.
Another big piece of advice I have–don’t settle for bad doctors. Some are not willing to try to openly understand that there are deep, constantly evolving complexities to long-covid. Remember, they are here to serve you, not the other way around. I’ve been fortunate that most of my providers and specialists have been interested, intrigued and willing to explore and help in ways that are new to them—recognizing that no one truly has all the answers as this is so new to us all. If they are not treating you in a positive way such as this, replace them and work to build a medical team that is a benefit to you rather than being a negative.
As optimistic as I have become in these more recent years, I am also a realist. I have no idea if I will be able to shake this insane fatigue, if my lungs will improve or if my brain limitations will lift. But I will continue to positively control the things I can control. I’ve been through much in my life—enough for a 300-page book, lol—and I must say this medical battle ranks right up there as one of the tougher things I’ve gone through. But I continue to tell myself that I have managed to navigate my way through all these rough spots thus far—so I stay confident that I will navigate through this.
Much of my identity and purpose throughout my adult years has come from my career. In recent years, I have learned to be more in sync with the larger purpose of life, but that didn’t impact my career drive, it just provided for a healthier balance.
I got sick during the busiest stretch of my mortgage career. I tried with all my might to keep the business going in the weeks after being released from the hospital, but it became obvious to me and my doctor that I was too sick for that.
Thus, I went on medical leave and was able to begin to put all my attention toward healing.
Once the three months of my short-term leave had expired, I was then approved for long-term disability from two insurance companies, that through my employer I had fortunately paid premiums with.
My book, Shake Yourself Free, chronicles lessons learned from my adversity filled life. I had just finished writing the book and was in the editing process when I got sick.
Now I am amid a major life transition and am trying again to use the same lessons I have written about to help me with this life-changing event.
My leave with my employer expired this past Friday, on June 2nd.
Two times previously, with documentation from my primary care doctor, they had extended the leave for additional months. In anticipation of the leave expiring, in May I submitted updated paperwork to my contact in the corporate human resources department. I then heard from her that we needed a Zoom conference to discuss.
What transpired with her (and a silent HR witness), was less than a two-minute conversation telling me that my leave would not be extended. I would be terminated effective June 2nd, with the eligibility to be rehired….if my health ever improves.
As June 2nd has now passed and a new week has started, it feels strange and a bit empty that I didn’t receive a single call or text from my local branch, an office that I used to feel like such a big, important part of.
But I get it, as the reality is that I am not well and there’s no timeframe for me to ever return. I have known this for quite some time, so the decision of my employer is just the formality in solidifying the fact that I am moving into the next big phase of life.
Career-wise, nothing’s ever flowed in an orthodox way for me. So, a triumphant countdown and big party celebrating a long career and the hope of a great retirement isn’t anything I ever dreamed of. As I exhibit in my book, we never know what the next chapter is going to look like. Realizing this so long ago must be the reason why I always seem to put such little thought into planning.
I’m working hard on my health. Walking nearly an hour each morning and enjoying my discovery of yoga. The practice and principles of yoga are so helpful to both my body and mind. My lungs are still heavy oftentimes, which creates the need to cough. The chronic fatigue requires a nap most afternoons. The severe nerve issues in my arms seem to be improving with recent sessions of acupuncture and good help from an amazing physical therapy team. In February, I lost eyesight in my left eye. Thankfully it has come back, but both my ophthalmologist and rheumatologist suggest that the Iritis, a serious eye condition that is tied to the autoimmune issues from my long-covid, can continue to flare up.
My brain doesn’t work like it did. I get easily confused. I sometimes don’t remember things that just happened. I struggle with what once was easy math and I can’t recall certain facts. There are some similarities to the issues Shelly faces from her traumatic brain injury.
What’s been challenging for me is the lack of daily comradery and interaction with others. In these latter years of my journey, I’ve truly turned into a people person, so I greatly miss the daily connection and conversations with peers and clients.
I had a book launch party last month. Dozens of friends and family were there from literally all aspects of my life. I had several new friends attend that I have met recently in my daily early morning trips to the coffee shop. It reiterated to me that I’m so blessed to be able to meet and enjoy people so easily. I’m confident that this will help me in this new phase of life.
This book’s release, and the excitement surrounding it, couldn’t have been timed better. As I struggle with the void of not working, it’s helped me understand that my purpose of helping people will continue to flourish.
A year and a half after coming so close to death, I couldn’t be more thankful for Shelly and her incredible support. Our 29th wedding anniversary was on May 14th, and we had an amazing time on a 9-day Caribbean cruise. It was our first big trip like that in nearly twenty years. It felt great to finally be able to celebrate in this way. It truly felt well deserved, as we’ve been through so much together.
I’m grateful to continue to be able to watch Dylan and Taylor grow as amazing young men. Becoming empty nesters in recent years has been a big adjustment, but the pride of watching them transition into adulthood is like nothing I ever could have imagined.
My parents live nearby, and I’m blessed to be able to closely care for them as age has slowed them down. They sacrificed so much for me; it feels good to be able to now do so much for them.
Here we go; I can’t help but be curious and excited to see what comes next in this wild ride of mine.
Excited to share that Shake Yourself Free was sent to the printer earlier in the week.
It’s so hard to believe that we’re finally here!
I’ve opened up my heart and soul and let it all out. There’s parts of my story that I had never yet shared before with anybody. I am cautiously hopeful that the lessons that I have learned from my roller coaster ride of a journey will be able to help quite a few people who read this book.
The final element of the book writing process has been the book’s cover. I can’t quite describe how amazing it was to work with our oldest son Dylan on this.
Dylan’s super creative and talented. I’m so proud of the successful graphic designer he’s become and I could not be prouder of Dylan’s end result for the cover. It’s so bold and vibrant, just how my life has ultimately become!
I patiently wait for the printer & distribution to do their thing….but I’ll be letting you know very soon when Shake Yourself Free will be released!
I’ve been working with my publisher, Aaron, for FIVE years now on my first book.
What a process it has been! Aaron has patiently guided and developed me throughout this detailed process. When I began, I was a novice writer with a lifetime full of impactful stories from adversity and loss. Now I am an author with a clear purpose of utilizing those stories to help others navigate their own journey.
I will be soon sharing the beautiful and vibrant cover that Dylan, our super-talented son designed.
Facing life after loss is an ominous task. The subsequent journey will consist of many trials, revelations, and missteps in a continual evolution throughout life. There is not a straight, clear path to living after trauma.
Instead, we learn from our own experiences while gaining valuable perspectives on moving forward to a life with deep awareness and ultimate emotional recovery. This book will help guide you along this path to recovery.
Learn to move forward with strength, hope, and empathy by delving into a journey of multiple battles with loss and adversity.
Build a resilient life by approaching tragedy with honesty and vulnerability.
Develop clarity and gratitude from your real-life sorrow.
Rid yourself of the anger and fear that obstructs emotional recovery and fulfillment.
Advance toward positive progress with a roadmap of real-life lessons learned.
A year ago today I entered the hospital for a massive fight for my life.
I’ve always been keenly aware of special dates in my life and their significance. The last few mornings I have woken up even earlier than normal, unable to get back to sleep as I’ve been thinking in depth about those initial days of hospitalization.
My doctors often tell me that they never saw anyone that got as sick as I did with Covid pneumonia and survive.
My medical records show that in those first few days hospitalized that I had a “high probability of expiration overnight”.
That’s heavy.
I find that the blessings that I feel about my survival are hard to properly put into words, but the appreciation floods my heart every single day.
My life has changed.
My lungs are damaged, and I significantly feel that throughout the day and night.
The fatigue is still intense as each day wears on. Thank God for the ability to nap.
My brain struggles with focus, processing, and short-term memory.
But every day I work on improving.
When I first started walking when I got back home in February, I remember the big milestone of walking two doors down and back (with supplemental oxygen).
Now my daily morning neighborhood walk is up to over fifty minutes and right at three miles, and the balanced strength I am gaining from yoga has been amazing for my mental and physical progress.
The new me doesn’t worry about things nor really think beyond taking one day at a time. Unique perspective and life lessons allow me the grace to understand that most things aren’t worth thinking twice about.
This morning, as I hear Christmas music overhead, the Christmas spirit is beginning to feel alive inside of me.
To say that last December was rough on Shelly is such an understatement. Last night I told her that I am going to do everything possible to make sure she enjoys this Christmas season to the absolute fullest.
I’m going to absorb and enjoy the little seasonal joys more than ever.
Here I am, one year later — December 3rd….
To rejoice, Dylan, Ashley and I are celebrating tonight in a way that is most appropriate for me. We’ll be seeing Modest Mouse, one of my favorite bands, perform downtown at my favorite venue, The Van Buren.
As I write this, it’s right around sunrise, which is my best time of day. As my day starts, I usually feel pretty good. My dogs and I leave the house before daylight, getting coffee and spending an hour or two outside — writing.
I come back home and go on my daily walk, which is now up to over 45 minutes (roughly two and a half miles). Then back home, I turn the music up in the backyard for a few hours; exercising, absorbing the music, and finishing with yoga.
The fatigue is still intense, like nothing I ever could have imagined prior to getting sick. It really takes hold after lunchtime, so I take a much-needed nap every afternoon. I take it slow through the remainder of the day and try to get to bed early.
I visited my pulmonologist on Friday. He says my chest x-ray doesn’t show any improvement in my lungs in comparison to June’s x-ray. With my advanced level of respiratory failure, he has hope that in a year or so, I’ll start seeing noticeable improvements.
There’s a heaviness in my chest that seems to have become more pronounced with the humidity in the air from monsoon season here. I cough deeply, but not as severely or as often as in months past. It often takes effort to breathe, but in comparison to my months on supplemental oxygen, it’s not bad at all.
The cognitive issues don’t seem to be improving. My short-term memory has been affected, especially remembering things that literally just happened. I can’t multi-task like I could, and I forget to do things. I had a long period of hypoxia (oxygen shortage) — and I’m seeing the impact of that.
My neurologist ordered three tests to try to get more clarity on Covid’s impact on my brain. I’ve completed a Brain MRI, and a Brain EEG. Now on October 25th I will spend the afternoon having what’s called a neuro-psych test. Then on October 31st, I’ll go back to see him, and we’ll talk about the findings of all this.
Currently I’m on long-term disability leave from work. As active as I’ve always been, this has been an adjustment. But I’ve learned that the key for me is finding the routines that have the balance of allowing for rest but also challenging me. Pacing myself and not doing too much each day is important, as is staying patient and positive.
Shelly’s amazing. I’m her caregiver, and now she’s also mine. We are certainly managing to make the very best of every day, not letting much bother us and having as much fun as we can.
Music continues to be front and center for me. I am pacing myself to see as much live music as I reasonably can — Dylan and I are seeing the Gorillaz at the arena downtown tomorrow night!
I really am thankful for life.
I have a deep understanding that we never know what the future holds.
But I do know that I am going to continue to appreciate the beauty of every single day.
Video I took of Morrissey in Phoenix – May 10, 2022 – Everyday Is Like Sunday
While fighting for my life recently, I had music playing twenty-four hours a day, every day, shutting off all other forms of media. It gave me hope, focus, inspiration and calmness.
I’m not the same as I was prior to getting sick last December. I have tremendous fatigue, which requires a daily nap. Respiratory failure, which continues to make breathing a challenge, and the cognitive issues make it tough on my short-term memory and on focusing and learning new information.
But music continues to inspire, motivate, and calm me every single day. I relish in the opportunity to see my favorite bands live. In my new life, I pace myself and get plenty of rest in the days prior to, and after a concert. At first thought, it seemed impossible that I could see four shows within a seven-night period last week. But as I tried to decide which shows to pass on, it became obvious to me that I didn’t want to miss any of these four shows of Echo and The Bunnymen, She Wants Revenge, The Killers (with Johnny Marr) and Peter Hook and The Light (legendary bassist of Joy Division and New Order).
I made it with my oldest son Dylan to our 11th Coachella this past April. I would pace myself and make all these shows too.
As the week started, I was completely exhausted. I couldn’t quite imagine making it through the upcoming week, but I was sure looking forward to giving it a try. The week consisted of some nights with very little sleep, as I automatically wake up by 5:30 AM every day. But the afternoons consisted of some of the longest naps I’ve ever taken.
My mood going into the week of shows was different compared to my normal self, as it’s taking some adjustment to handle the fatigue and cognitive complications of my new reality.
Dylan and I at Echo & the Bunnymen at The Van Buren in Phoenix But now, after four recent nights of live music, I again feel the positivity to conquer my situation. When cassette tapes gave way to compact discs, the first CD I bought in 1987 was Substance by New Order. It’s what’s called a compilation album, meaning it consists of the band’s greatest hits up to that date. The first song on that CD was Ceremony. It’s been one of the most important songs to me ever since. A mid-tempo haunting song that for me somehow bridges the gap between both hope and despair. I’ll never forget seeing New Order perform it live in September of 1987 at the Forum in Los Angeles, only a month after I had bought the CD.
My first ever CD and my Substance t-shirt
Ever since, I’ve used this song as the song to change the tone and get my mind right, to pull me out of darkness.
In 2011 I played it in a snowstorm as I drove myself into the town limits of Jackson, Wyoming, to begin a life-changing adventure in a foreign part of the country to me. A few months later, it was the first song I played on the air in my new hobby as an on-air disc jockey at 89.1FM KHOL Jackson Hole Community Radio.
A simple and symbolic choice as my first song on the air, for what would become The Hole Enchilada, the radio show I did each Saturday with Dylan for the next five years.
When I was hospitalized near death last December, I quickly leaned heavily into music to pull me through. It was only natural that the first song I played from the emergency room that fateful afternoon was Ceremony. My focus and positivity toward survival was set from that point forward.
Whenever my positivity started to wane in those 53 days hospitalized, I’d play Ceremony and get myself back on track.
Over the years I learned a lot about this song. I learned it was originally a Joy Division song. Joy Division was a band that became tremendously important to me later in my life. They had recorded two incredible albums and were on the eve of traveling for the first time from their home of Manchester, UK to the United States for a much-celebrated North American tour. But this was not to be, as lead singer, Ian Curtis, hung himself on May 18, 1980, at only 23 years old.
In the days leading up to his suicide, Ceremony was the last song he ever wrote. There are 3 recordings of it, two live recordings and one studio recording where his vocals were only partially audible in each version.
Ceremony is a symbol of his attempts at positivity and goodness yet mired in the darkness that took his life.
The surviving, grief-stricken members of Joy Division took some time to eventually regroup as New Order. New Order’s groundbreaking integration of post-punk with electronic dance music made them one of the most acclaimed and groundbreaking bands of the 80’s.
The first thing they did as New Order in 1981 was record Ceremony as their debut single. The lyrics were not written anywhere, so they had to run the recording through a graphic equalizer to approximate Ian Curtis’s lyrics. The song was recorded to pay respect to their fallen friend and lead singer and to signify where they had come from. Ceremony ultimately was the moment that bridged the gap between the lost dreams of Joy Division and the new hope of New Order.
For me, Ceremony has also bridged the gap for me between lost dreams and future hope for over thirty years now. This began with the death of my fiancée (a huge New Order fan) in 1990 and has been the song I have leaned on for hopeful transition through each subsequent challenge with adversity.
Peter Hook is the bassist and co-founder of Joy Division and New Order. On my radio show I would play Joy Division more than any other band and I would often say that in my opinion, Peter Hook is modern music’s greatest bass player. He’s unique in the way that he plays the bass like a lead guitar. I cannot think of any other act where the bass is the center point of the sound in the way that it is to both Joy Division and New Order.
He now tours the world with his own band, Peter Hook and the Light, performing Joy Division and New Order songs.
His current tour is called Joy Division: A Celebration. It consists of an opening set of New Order material, followed by in their entirety Joy Division’s two albums, Unknown Pleasures and Closer (which was released two months after Curtis’s death), then closing with and encore of some Joy Division songs not on albums, ending with the wildly popular, Love Will Tear Us Apart. I saw him once before at this same venue he played last week, The Van Buren in downtown Phoenix in 2018, and I was blown away, so I vowed to always see him again whenever I had the opportunity.
The Van Buren in downtown Phoenix
With Monday night being my fourth show in a seven-night span, and with my current health issues, I was fatigued to a point where I couldn’t imagine standing for three hours. I asked where ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) seating was. In my New Order Substance 1987 t-shirt, I was quickly escorted through the standing crowd to in front of the stage barrier. I had goosebumps as I was seated on a barstool so close to the stage that I was literally two steps away from touching it.
The show started exactly at 8 o’clock (he played for nearly 3 hours) with a passioned performance of the New Order radio hit, True Faith, with Hook’s signature basslines leading the way.
Next came my song, Ceremony. Sitting next to the stage, with Peter Hook right in front of me, the song that always tells me that everything will be alright, told that to me in its most powerful way yet.
Here’s video I captured of that surreal moment.
https://youtu.be/efA9C-rzes8
Yes indeed, everything will be alright.
I thank you Peter for reminding me of that.
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A sold out Echo & The Bunnymen showMy buddy Stan & I at The Killers / Johnny MarrShe Wants Revenge at The Van Buren
), I have the misters cooling me off and the music blaring I do some exercising, mediating and yoga.
Dylan and I at Echo & the Bunnymen at The Van Buren in Phoenix But now, after four recent nights of live music, I again feel the positivity to conquer my situation. When cassette tapes gave way to compact discs, the first CD I bought in 1987 was Substance by New Order. It’s what’s called a compilation album, meaning it consists of the band’s greatest hits up to that date. The first song on that CD was Ceremony. It’s been one of the most important songs to me ever since. A mid-tempo haunting song that for me somehow bridges the gap between both hope and despair. I’ll never forget seeing New Order perform it live in September of 1987 at the Forum in Los Angeles, only a month after I had bought the CD.
