Friday, January 10, 2020

Voice Issues and Farewell, Neil Peart

Neil Peart
I've been fighting a cold, essentially, since Sep 26.

I woke up that morning in San Francisco, after a great day of sightseeing and traveling, to the usual suspects: sore throat, cough, sniffles, etc.

With the support of my friends at Hunt Scanlon, I ran to a nearby CVS, loaded up on supplies, and soldiered through that days conference, where I served as moderator.

I've had a slightly persistent cough since that day and, earlier this week, began the trappings of another cold.

Perfectly suited for a week in which I have five broadcasts.

I did fine on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday also.

All seemed well this morning. Then, around 2 p.m., I began to notice a bit of a rasp as I spoke. It quickly got worse.

It's my worst nightmare because a voice is, you know, sort of important to a broadcaster.

But it seemed to rally also at times.

So I wrote what I wanted to say. Then I'd whisper. Then I'd talk softly. Then I'd talk.

I drove to Brunswick in silence, with only my phone lighting up with texts about a pretty big Fairfield County sports story (see tweet below). I didn't make any calls and I saved my voice.

That story was broken by Susan, I might add.

I walked into Brunswick's Hartong Rink knowing my voice would be an issue. Thankfully, AJ Szymanowski was there to take some pressure off of me. Michael Breed stopped by to say hello and, thankfully, couldn't stay and talk.

I'm thankful because I needed to save every word for the broadcast.

I thought my voice was a wreck and it cracked during the opening, and I apologized for how I sounded during the call. But Joe Early and Susan both texted me to say I sounded fine, and AJ told me the same thing. Still, I know I wasn't right. My brain couldn't comprehend things as well as normal and my throat hurt. I could hear the rasp, and it got worse late in the third period.

Still, I got through it. I'm now resting it and getting ready for basketball tomorrow at 1 p.m.

Duty calls. I'll be there.

*****
Rush isn't a critical favorite, and I know that.

They came out of the prog rock scene in Canada and emerged as a class rock favorite.

But they played a role in my youth as I developed my taste.

Their drummer and lyricist, Neil Peart, died today of cancer. Rolling Stone contributed an obituary to one of the greatest drummers.

Rush was also my very first concert, on Sep 19, 1984 at Madison Square Garden. I was 15 and it opened my eyes.

Peart was amazing behind his drum kit.

I got to hear Rush again years later, when Mick and Gretchen and I sat outside the Jones Beach Amphitheater on Long Island. We sat in the parking lot on folding chairs, talked, listened, and didn't deal with any of the trappings of being at a concert. It was blissful.

So while, to some, it's not groundbreaking to be a fan of Rush, it still evokes happy memories of those I went to the concerts with, and listening to the music in my own time.

As I did tonight.

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