New Art

I believe creative effort is the highest form of human achievement. For that reason -- and despite my visual impairments -- I've resumed collecting fine art. I choose to support living artists who usually don't receive deserved economic compensation.

Two talented young artists recently showed me work I admire. One (Ian Dawson) is a glass artist in Ohio who previously worked in metal. Ian has a bright idea to combine the dual materials in strikingly beautiful sculptures. Here are two works I just acquired from him.

Born To Be Wild

Can art affect us? You betcha.

On this day back in 1968 rock-band Steppenwolf released a hit single that inspired generations of young adventurers (including me) to try motorcycling. Their song, of course, was "Born to Be Wild." It was used in "Easy Rider" the next year (1969).

Sing it with me:

Get your motor runnin'

Head out on the highway

Lookin' for adventure

And whatever comes our way

Yeah Darlin' go make it happen

Take the world in a love embrace

Fire all of your guns at once

And explode into space

I like smoke and lightning

Heavy metal thunder

Racin' with the wind

And the feelin' that I'm under

Yeah Darlin' go make it happen

Take the world in a love embrace

Fire all of your guns at once

And explode into space

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be wild

We can climb so high

I never wanna die

Born to be wild

Born to be wild

My Recovery

Hey everyone, I hope your Summer is starting well. Here's another update on my recovery. The news is all good.

1. My body is getting steadily stronger. I no longer need a walker. I used a cane for a few days but don't need that either. I now walk normally. Still bump into fire hydrants but that's due to the vision thing.

My legs can now also climb stairs so nobody is safe from a visit. :)

2. During the first two months of my hospital stay I had -- in addition to an autoimmune condition (myasthenia gravis) -- something called "ICU delirium." Extremely potent drugs used to sedate me led my brain to create an alternate reality, a world as real to me as this one is for you. Unfortunately  that world was not pleasant: I interpreted ICU medical treatments (I had 9 tubes inserted) as TORTURE by an evil group trying to harm me. I reacted to that baleful threat by ripping IVs out (causing a blood clot in my arm) and fighting male attendants. Ultimately doctors put me in physical restraint and assigned a PCA to watch me 24/7. During one quasi-lucid moment I told Robin I'd forgive her if she let chthonic people kill me.

I mention this ugly episode today to happily report the delusions are gone. I perceive our shared reality the same as you and am back to being the piquant badass I was before. My cognitive ability was tested repeatedly in the hospital; one neurologist said she'd never had anyone score as high (a perfect 100) on their key diagnostic test. Thus, all future expressions coming from me are authentic and not the by-product of hallucinogenic drugs.

3. For the first three months of my hospital stay I had a feeding tube inserted into my belly. It was awful: all nutrition and medicine were delivered through it. (Myasthenia gravis affects swallowing so I couldn't accept anything orally.) I wasn't allowed to eat food during those three months which sucked enormously. You have no idea how important eating is to our emotional health. I watched meal trays get delivered to fellow patients with deep envy. For solace I made lists of ambrosia I wanted to eat in the future. That reminded me of when I was a teenager: I frequently starved myself to qualify for wrestling weight-limit classes. (Everyone wrestled at 10-20 lbs. under their normal weight.)

On May 5th I finally passed the "swallow test" during which you're X-ray-ed swallowing to make sure food goes down the right pipe. Myasthenia gravis was causing me to "aspirate" food into my lungs, a dangerous thing. Yesterday I had the feed-tube removed. Shockingly, during that process I saw the tube is over two feet long. Imagine a tube being pulled out of your belly that's two feet long. A rubber snake was inside me for five months. Geez...

4. Last note: Doctors tried two common medicines on me for myasthenia gravis but both had terrible side-effects. One accelerated my heart so fast it became life-threatening; another caused unstoppable secretions that choked me and prevented sleep. Doctors finally found a treatment that works (Solaris) which is vital because I need treatment for the rest of my life. That third treatment is delivered every two weeks by IV, which can be painful. (I once had five unsuccessful attempts to insert an IV in one hour.) 

Good news: There is a new replacement drug for Solaris called Ultomiris. Ultomiris needs to be injected only once every eight weeks. I just qualified for it by taking six vaccines to prevent deadly side-effects.

Ultomiris is advertised on TV dozens of times every day. You see those ads even if you aren't paying attention. Similarly there are ads for other myasthenia gravis meds so, if you listen, you'll hear those words spoken too. Often we don't see/hear things unless we relate to them, like when you buy a Mazda Miata and suddenly see dozens of them on the road.

A big lesson I learned from the first half of this year is the intensity of pain and discomfort people can experience from serious illness. Sympathize with those poor folks -- whom you may join someday -- because their struggle is our struggle. Nobody is immune from disease and none of us should ignore the suffering of others. Appreciate your good health; don't take it for granted; and open your heart to the less fortunate.

Aloha.

Big Ralph

I visited my dad today on his 95th birthday (National Cemetery, Farmingdale). The experience felt atavistic. I couldn't help but ponder past paths taken by my ancestors.

My dad was born and raised in a war-zone (Germany during WWII). He survived aerial bombing and immigrated to the U.S. in 1952. Immediately joining the U.S. Army he fought in Korea and was naturalized a citizen in exchange for that service. Then he spent 30 years working as a police officer in Lloyd Harbor. He retired as Chief of Police with a generous civil service pension. Four decades of blithe ease in Florida followed. 

The only things that marred my father's life were premature deaths of my mother Barbara Jo (54) and brother Richard (33) in the early 1990s. Those dolorous events shook both of us to the bone. I was so crushed I nearly had heart attacks at the funerals.

I hope all of you have fortunate long lives and avoid tragedy.

P.S., Since returning home from the hospital my body is getting stronger. Daily exercise and out-patient physical therapy are re-building my muscles and endurance. Yay!

Recovery

 After four months in the hospital I finally returned home yesterday. It was a lengthy stay -- the last time I washed my hair Joe Biden was still President.

To celebrate my return I'm adopting "Stayin' Alive" as my new theme song. Sung by the Bee Gees, this hit opened "Saturday Night Fever," a brilliant film that launched John Travolta's career. Check it out.

I still have a lot of rehabilitation work to do. I'm agog to meet the challenge and effloresce. My leg muscles enervated lying in bed and need quotidian exercise. To assist the effort I bought "the Rolls Royce of Walkers" which strengthens your body while also brewing delicious espresso. :)

Do you remember me?

New York

Reading Jimmy Breslin reminds me of the New York of my youth. Back then the city wasn't only dirty and dangerous, it was corrupt. Bribery and patronage were pervasive. In fact public corruption was so entrenched that politicians openly joked about it.

My favorite line is from powerful Brooklyn boss Meade Esposito. Responding to a reporter's question about one patronage scandal Esposito said, "Hey, I didn't go into politics to become a poor man."

Abraham Lincoln

Today is Abraham Lincoln's birthday (1809). He was, of course, our 16th President until assassinated in office in 1865.

I'm not normally a jingoistic man but admit feeling intense pride when visiting the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. The size of the structure, its humanity strike a deep chord in me. If you've never been there, go. It's viscerally moving.

Eight-score and two years ago Lincoln delivered his famous Gettysburg Address. Its occasion was the dedication of the Gettysburg National Cemetery. The Cemetery is located on the site of a Civil War battleground where many soldiers, from both sides, fought and died.

Written on the back of an envelope during the train ride there, Lincoln's words echo through the ages. Anyone unconvinced of the power of language should read these words. Here's an excerpt from the Address:

"The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated [this ground], far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the Earth."