I Have Been Unable To Post!

Because I lost my way!
My Dashboard disappeared from me!
A woman whom I have never met, showed up
when I googled Reverend Lowell!
I am not dead; yet.
I will resume posting later.

October Red

... or lack of it.
As of today, the foot doc has cut me loose. My amputation is healed.
No more open areas. No more infections. No more PICT lines. No more vancomycin twice a day.
Of course, I have no idea what will come tomorrow. I'll just have to trust that the world will be awaiting me when I nudge the eyelids open.

The home rebuilding is done. I need to put up an "After" little film. I need to edit the last one, as it is massively unwatchable.

Not to be seen as searching for pity; but  the first thought I had upon seeing the room : " What a great room to die in!"

I have a Kindle (sorry Beckett). As I was culling books for a scaled down library, I discovered I had six copies of Moby Dick. I still have 1965 copies of "Peanuts".  I have every "Doonebury" book. I have amazingly huge color cartoon books of "Calvin and Hobbes". Pynchon and Helprin, of course.

I'll go out tomorrow and pick up a repaired guitar amp. A 1962 Epiphone Devon Tremelo.  I'll see if John Harrington is there and drop hints about jamming with him up at the studio. Look up Little John and the Sherwoods; to get a sense, a touch, a taste of what 1960's Lowell was like.\

I'll , at last, see if Tom and Ness and another Derry guy want to get together and play some CSN&Y.

I'll hire some hot shot secretary/typist to help me assemble all my poems and get them out to UMass Lowell and be done with it.

I'm still working on "Radio Plays - Drama, Doom and Comedic Ditties (Rhymes with Kitties). Except I'll learn how to blogcast? them.

In other words, I'm Back!

Perhaps I spoke too soon.

Indeed.

After behaving quite nicely in the Healing Department, my left foot began hurting the other night. I got my usual 100.4 temp and severe pains in my joints. Although there was no redness in the leg; it was clear that the leg was not right and would be shortly going bad.

So we didn't fool around.  On wednesday, we drove out to see the Doctors' Assistant and she advised going right into the hospital. Which we did. Or, I did. We saw the Emergency room staff and they presented me with the Steak Knife premium from the Gift Catalogue. We had vancomycin flooding into my arm about 16 hours from the first twinge of betrayal.  Spent two nights there thinking we had reacted quickly (we had) enough to stop this from advancing. We are now not so sure. One of my Doctors thinks it's not too bad and the anti-biotics should kill it. One another, a friend of Maureens spoke to her and suggested more dire endings. He thought I should accept my fate and have a Below Knee amputation.

This week I will see a Foot guy and an ankle guy. They will order some pictures and read the results of my blood tests. Get the lab reports on what' exactly is brewing down there. They will make their recommendations and on thursday I will meet with my Primary Care guy and we will make a decision. I'll probably write about it here; rather than the FDP, because I don't want it to be a distraction. I think i'll put a notice in Moe's, sending the interested here.

Also; i'll be putting the 'Bird up for sale at the FDP.

WHITE COTTON - WOODEN DESIRE

New bandage - a small hidden  moth -
and a beautiful piece of wood.

CAST REMOVED! FOOT FREED, TOES MISSING !

Things went as well as they could. The wound was closed, the foot shape was well rounded and strong. This was the cast this morning.

This is the view out of my Doctors waiting room.  He is the Foot and Ankle guy for the Patriots. If I keep letting him cut away on me; I might be able to get some Patriot's tickets!

This is the poster that greets you when you wheel in:

CAST REMOVED! FOOT FREED, TOES MISSING !

Things went as well as they could. The wound was closed, the foot shape was well rounded and strong. This was the cast this morning.

The after demolition movie.

Self explaining -http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gx1tEuL35ek

I MISSED THE SUMMER !

I told you I was sick, back in Feb- March, or whenever.  I went into the Emergency room on the 4th of July.  I got out treatment IV for the weekend and got admitted to the Hospital in Lowell.
I went home with Vancomycin which my wife and I were administering. When all my "Pictures" came back, the left side of my foot looked wonky. My foot surgeon made an appointment for me with Dr. Chiodo of Boston's Bringham and Womans. I saw him out in Foxboro, at Patriot Place, home of Gillette Stadium. He's now the Foot and Ankle guy for the Patriots.  He is a very forthright guy. As  he was debriding the left side of ny foot, at the little toe, he was hitting bone. Osteomyolitis. So I had to have an amputation. Either a Transmetatarsal or Below Knee; depending on how far the infection had progressed.

So we pushed an operation up to july 30th. When I came out of the OR, I had the best possible outcome. I  was left with half a foot, which will give me much more stability than a BK. So , i've been home for 4 days, getting a little better each day. I'll see Dr. Ciodo on auguat 13 to get the partial cast off and we'll peek at the stump. I'm still non weightbearing and I hope that changes to partial weight bearing.
......................................................................

Look for me to be selling about 10 guitars and a few amps. I need to downsize! I am probably never going to go out playing much, if at all.
......................................................................
Ask me about the Ammo re-loading stuff I have... useful for when the disaster strikes.
.......................................................................................................
I'll be selling about a thousand of my books - and getting a Kindle.
......................................................................................................
It's getting to be about that time in my life. No regrets .......

AFTER THE DEMO.

speaks for itself.

Before the DESTRUCTION

Banks are giving us  .25% on our savings accounts.
Which means they are now Losing Accounts.
So, being disabled, I choose to put my "money"
into solid, touch 'em assets. Such as home improvement.
We are staying here, so we are making the place
wheelchair friendly.

COME PLAY

NEW OLD NEWS

Got home saturday at 2:00 from the Hospital.
I only spent three nights in the largest hospital room in the Universe.
It was once a 4 - Bed birthing Unit.  The vibe is angry woman cursing every masculine molecule in view or not; begging for drugs and sharp scissors.
So, yeah, it was pleasant. It was on the fifth floor with windows festooned with Monster Spider Webs spun by prehistoric monster spider beings. When the windows need to be washed; they hire Blackwater.

But I bitedress; my old everpresent friend Mr. MRSA, made an appearance that went bad, quickly, This means I need to get myself into Room 506 promptly. My team is my Primary Doc, a Vascular Doc, A Foot Surgeon, and the Infectious Control Doc. While they confer, I renew old acquaintince's with the Nurse's and Aides.

What happened was I got new, orthopaedic shoes, snappy little boot leather, and instead of gradually breaking them in, I put them on and went to work in the woods for 5 hours. ( It's a big, final deal! Really, I mean it! ) I developed a bit of a wearing away of a few layers of skin at the base of the little toe. To make a boring story less boring, it got infected. So now I need to take Vanco ( look it up ) twice a day for a few weeks at least. If its in the bone to any degree, i'll be losing some weight quickly, and you can call me shorty.

THE END

Good news - I have heard from Tom Thibodeau and it looks like we will be jamming. With Ness Patenaude - Piano, harp and vocals. This could be much fun. Turn on the Tascam and hook up 8 Shures and Mic the entire room .........

ES-330, Me playing an old man...

O.K.

How does this work?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poBOfW1f6yo

On Bums, Hippies and Other Nostalgia Acts

There should be no borders, man; and, like, no personal property! No one needs three bedrooms and two baths, man. Like my parents, man. They should just have the government, man, put up these group homes where, man, you could just go sleep when you're tired. You wouldn't be bothering nobody, man. Like my grandfather, man, he's in this, like group home with other old dudes and ladies, man. They feed them and everything. Give them drugs, man. That's the way everything should be man. Everything should like just be free, man , from the people to the people.

signed,

Lumpy ..............

Under the First Tree

on the Right 

as you come into

People's Park.

man

after the rain

The BIG poem down below - about the English - is part of a larger poem. The next installment could be "Passaconaway".
But for the time being; here's a smaller poem about heartbreak, booze and wild geese.

4-24-00

after the rain

the enemy

comes not

down

in the bottom

of the bottle

- it sneaks

into the soul

soundless in

the  Dead

of night-

just when

you let

love

slip out.

........................

II

when you

no longer hear

the breaking

of another 

heart

when the wild

beating

of the  wing

goes un-noticed.

Then

.........................

III.

you begin -

to hear the secret

language

of the heart.

A Poem about the English

some scattered notes

on the settling

of the colonies

by the english

of the English

it was Gosnald-

was one of the first

-report on habits

disposition of the native

and mostly- products

-what products to be had

Pring  was in it

traded for  sassafras and fur

Waymouth on his ship

Archangel mapped

explored the Maine coast

taking back five -

five Indians back

back to England where...

well, 

it was

that they should speak of riches -

riches to be had

this

so money might be raised -

money to be used

to build the colonies.

      Capt Challons made the mistake

took the southern route

his ship,  taken by Spanish

never reached Virginia

Jamestown was holding

but Sagadahoc less than a year

lasted -

the death of George Popham

fire in the storehouse

no gold found

for hope

or inspiration

.......................

Harlow had it in mind

did it -

kidnapped five natives

off Martha’s Vineyard

brought them back to England

and Hunt

he took 24 to  Malago

and there

sold them

one of them Squanto

the Wampanoag

who was in later years

valuable help to the Puritans

until going too far

Massasoit asked for his head

Jamestown still held

but there was

of course

growing hostility towards

and mistrust

of

of course

the English -

the  plague was there

in 1616 - 1617

making it easier for English

interpreted by Puritan

as God

making room for His people

...................................

Wampanoag

unseen

silent at Plymouth

when Puritan came

watching

listening

seeing the English at work

Nauset

set ambush to English

in December

with no success

                         in December

it was found -

English settlement

built on the site

of Pawtuxet -

old Wampanoag village

decimated during the plague

English named this as Plymouth

by 1628

    300 at Salem

    ( Naumkeag then in name

white at Charlestown

more and more into Watertown,

Boston,

Boston growing fast -

fast because of harbor

expansion inland

in forms of trading post

trade at Matianuck    ( now as Windsor

settlement at Pyquag -

the start of Dorchester

   Saukiog became as Hartford for the white men

.............................

what started it was -

was Stone and the seven of his crew

the ones the Pequot killed

many

including Puritan

said he deserved it -

this death

but not the seven -

the dead being English

was enough

and it was revenge

that was wanted

scattered raids

as, like at Saybrook

or, say, at Wethersfield

where

after the ambush

Pequot paddled

up to Fort Saybrook

hoisting the shirts

and skirts

of the dead

as if they were English sails -

raids gave way  to war

war between Pequot and English

Mohegan in it

in it for the English

to prove loyalty

came to Saybrook

with four Pequot heads

and one -

living warrior

for him

living warrior

it was for one leg to be tied to the post

to the other, rope -

and like this

to be torn apart -

by  English

   Capt Underhill says the body

   was roasted and eaten by Mohegan

in a half hour

Mason’s  army killed

six hundred

Pequot men women and children

- this at Fort

    on Mystic River

Mason

in Puritan fashion

took not the credit

played it down

putting it -

the credit

to his god

this -

for judging the heathen

and filling the place with their bodies

Stoughten landed at Pequot Harbor

rounded up natives that remained

thirty-three women and children

given to the Narragansetts

three went to the Massachusetts

fifty-four kept for the Bay Colony itself

- the twenty - two warriors -

executed

.......................

Quinnipiac   ( New Haven

was site of battle

women children and old men

allowed to leave the swamp

warriors tried

in vain

to escape

lay huddled together to die

....................................

muskets loaded with ten to twelve balls

fired at close range

Sassacus and forty warriors

later

found by Mohegan

their heads and hands

arrived at Hartford

presentd for the English

Sassacus

       sachem was dead.

STILL NOT DEAD YET

So, once again i'm fighting MRSA.
Once more my immune system has decided
it couldn't care less about me.  Foreign bodies,
assorted virus', and unlimited vaguely threatening
entities? Come on in!!! We've just about got
this guy set up for the kill!

So, I get to go to the hospital for 7-10 days
to sit in a chair and get a bunch of Vancomycin
pumped into my poor little veins.
But, and this is the Good Part, I get to come home
every night! That's right ... spend three hours
with the wretched ugly mob of sick people
who insist on some kind of emergency care
when they crack up their Camaros and Hummers!

Why, just today, a fine strapping young man was parading
around the IV area showing of his smacked up fist,
gaily recounting how he had gotten likkered up
and punched a Wall!!!! And Guess What!!!!
The Wall won!!!!  Jesus, Mary and Mailer, help me.

Winter Sick - Tired

Not writing much.
I've been getting terrible joint pain and chills and temperatures up to 102.5.
Maybe once a week - or two weeks. I can't remember - I remember from my past ( and from a glimpse into the future ) having MRSA; a very, very bad thing to have had. Isolated Hospital rooms and gowned up Candy Stripers pushing bad trayed-up hospital food at me as if i'd wolf it down like some bedraggled old, well, wolf.

I'm seeing a Foot Doc who is trying to close the last of my wounds; a stubborn open thing on the bottom of my foot. I've had plastic surgery twice on this thing; semi-successful in that the procedures managed to get ass graft  skin to stick and grow. Last summer I managed my wood lots in person. On the ground, on my own two feet. The wound re-opened and somewhere, had a boogaloo party with something rank and rotten. (Maybe a back room Health Care boondoggle! )

So the Good Doc took a culture and sure enough, MRSA is back. That's what we expected. It's like walking around with a sinus infection, chill popping head cold while being beaten by little Mark McQuires. So i'm trying to hang on and will be probably getting wired up for in home IV therapy.  TIED to the MACHINES again! Little buzzy intrusive things..... Five times a day, I get to have an IV Liquid Diet through a PICT line. This is not a great way to live.

Town, Gown and Remorse in equal Measure

---

I'm guessing that what the individual wants out of life, how he wishes to spend his working hours and leisure hours counts for a lot. Without getting in to DOB land, i'd say that the people who have been educated at Elite schools and move in rarefied social circles, have an existential moment or two, where they realize, that indeed, "Is that All Their Is" is more than a Peggy Lee song.

After careful rumination, some of them go back to school at their Local Community College and study Beatnik Lit. Or Buddhism.
In other words, some realize they have taken the wrong path for them; and gotten lost on that Path to Boot. Others will never feel that heart pounding in the middle of the night I've wasted my life I should have joined Barbara Seagull in the tree house moment. They'll just go to work in the morning and summer at the Lake House with Cousin Edwards family. They'll ski at Vail. He'll die never knowing how much his wife actually, really did love him and what beautiful wonderful children he has left behind.

Others will be American cowboys; fiercely independent and proud, quite willing to sacrifice and delay satisfaction. He'll change his own oil and do his own brakes on his 6 year old American car. He'll be proud his wife holds an important job at the Hardware Store, even though she only went to the Community College for Upholstery. He'll attend his son's ball games and laugh and cry at all his heroics and miscues. He'll vote in every election and do his own taxes (wrong) explaining the importance of both actions to his disinterested family.

They'll spend a week down at the lake, the south side, with the slightly weedy, muddy and rocky beach. They'll ski on Fridays at the Kenwood Ski Tow.

He'll work overtime and his son will get into Boston University, a Jewel of a school, nestled in the Arms of Boston, surrounded by constant reminders of what made America, America. He'll hear 40 languages and find his love at an Abbott and Costello Revival at a small, bum laden theatre.

He'll go; probably the damn cigarettes his wife yelled at him about. He will be attended to by friends and family and possibly a shadow outline of Michael; a saintly presence during his entire
life.

But - who knows - such is the fate of those of us who pursue pieces of paper.......

ah .....sunshine ....

... you Jewels, you. 

VINYL ALBUMS

Back in the '60's you learned when Harvey was getting the new Beatles album in. You'd get in line on Central Street outside of Harvey's Book Land and wait for him to open. When he did, you'd enter and pay his daughter. He preferred that you pay with 3 singles as the price was $2.50 + .15 for tax. Teresa was standing on the right, with a stack of dimes and quarters, accepting the folding stock and handing you back your change. She'd have a five on the counter, close to the edge, in case some rich kid from Chelmsford had rolled in to town. She'd say "Thank you" and you'd shuffle ahead and when it was your turn, you'd spy Harvey half hidden amongst the plain brown boxes. You'd hold out your hand and Harvey would hand over the sacramental vinyl and you'd make a left turn and walk out into the grit and chop of Central Street, Lowell, Mass not knowing Kerouac, the great Beat Angel himself would right then, be up Back Central at Nicky's Bar regaling the regulars with stories of Old Angel Midnight.

It would take years of friendship with Harvey, before he would acknowledge the times Jack would slip in the back way and watch his flock running their hands over the spines and edges of the holy goof book classics stacked in haphazard order. How they'd sip from a bottle of wine and marvel at the will of the people to read, desire, consume.

That's gone. Harvey now running with Jack and Poe; chasing Lucy down Merrimack Street, threatening to dip her pig tails into the universal ink.

Old Hippy & Young Mr. Wards Poster Art

Just got the "Ballad of John & Yoko from Sean Ward of Toronto (and the World), and hung it on the Far Wall of my Barking Dogs Recording Studio and Secret Hide Out. It's the first thing you see when you walk through the (open) door. It's colorful and Witty and draws attention. I want him to do a pencil sketch of me sitting next to Harry with both of us looking down at the floor and noticing it needs sweeping. Done in the style of that famous B.B. King-Eric Clapton, sitting on the Fender Amps photograph.

Check out seanward.net for Beatles art, comics and general all around nice guy stuff.