Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Learning To Live Again


Like many music fans all over, I mourn the loss of one of the greatest musical talents, like so many, gone too soon. Being my age, a lot of bands that I grew up listening to over the years, have lost members, and of course, now that many of those bands have members with ages in the 70’s, it becomes anticipated.

Not since the assassination of John Lennon though, has a popular musician’s death, really had such a deep affect on me. Sure, the deaths of David Bowie, Prince, and so many others, made me sad, because for one, there was never going to be new music, and two, that meant the music that I enjoyed most, would never be replaced with anything as substantial or meaningful. Yes, I really have a hard time listening to today’s music and thinking, “yeah, this is going to have a lasting influence on the music world.” Sorry, too many of today’s musical acts are nothing but fads, phases, and the “act of the day” pushed by music companies looking to make a profit.

Taylor Hawkins, drummer and vocalist for the Foo Fighters, and other projects, died at the age of 50, just six years younger than me. The circumstances of his passing are still uncertain. At this time, just speculation. But I will tell you, fifty years old is too damn young to die. The news of a 911 call, with a complaint of chest pain, from a fifty year old, causes flash backs for me (a post upcoming soon on Paul’s Heart).

The Foo Fighters are one of my all-time favorite bands, so, being the music geek that I am, I delve into their history than most others who just listen to music for noise. It is one of the appreciations I have for the musicians in the band. I know the commitment they make to their craft. And while the main lead singer and guitarist/drummer Dave Grohl, Hawkins was commonly by his side.

To watch Hawkins play, you could only wonder where the Hell does he get the energy and stamina to play at the level of intensity that he does. But fans of the Foo Fighters know that Hawkins was more than just a drummer, he was an accomplished vocalist as well. He was known to cover Queen’s “Somebody To Love” in concerts, and there was even a performance with Queen’s Roger Taylor on drums, playing with Grohl and Hawkins for “Under Pressure.”

As I said, it is when you get into the music nerd world of Hawkin’s history, that you see that he was much more than just a drummer. Before making it big, he was the drummer for Alanis Morrisette during her “Jagged Little Pill” days. Comments by other musicians remarked how Hawkins loved to dive deep into the “why’s” and “what’s” of the processes and history of music. In short, he lived and loved music.

There is one image that will always stand out in my mind, a moment, where Hawkins not only realized who he was, where he had gotten to, humbling at the experience. While filming a Foo Fighters concert at Wembley Stadium in England, the band finishes a song with the crowd just screaming in enjoyment and applause. The camera focuses on both Grohl and Hawkins, who clearly have an “oh shit” moment, “is this really happening?” This particular stage and experience does not happen to many, such as Queen, or the Live Aid concert. Truly this was a great moment, and both of them knew it.

Like I said, bands lost members for one reason or another, often tragically. And over my years, Chicago (Terry Kath), Queen (Freddy Mercury), and the Eagles (Glen Frey) just to name a few have passed away. Somehow, and selfishly of fans, we are glad when bands like these can overcome their grief and continue on, not always perfect, and definitely not replacing the loss. But we are glad the bands continued to make music.

For Dave Grohl, Taylor is not the first tragedy of someone close to him, especially musically, he must morn. As one of the members of the grunge band Nirvana, Grohl was devastated by the suicide of lead singer, Kurt Cobain. Most in music found it hard to think that we would ever hear music like Nirvana had given us, ever again. No one definitely saw the Foo Fighters coming. But when they did, it was instant success, just like everything Grohl seems to touch, again, by Grohl’s commitment to, and love of music.

But now, Grohl is morning again. Hawkins has been the drummer for the Foo Fighters for over two decades, often side by side with Grohl. There is no way to even understand what grief Grohl must be feeling, as I got pissed off this morning by a Fox “story” on the “first sighting of Grohl” in California since Hawkin’s passing. Paparazzi are such ghouls.

It is rare that a drummer gets as much attention as Hawkins has. Unless you are Ringo Starr, Phil Collins, Don Henly, or Neil Peart, you get attention as a drummer for antics such as Tommy Lee Lars Ulrich. I can name quite a few other drummers, just as a fan of the bands I listen to (Danny Seraphine of Chicago, Jeff Plate of Tran Siberian Orchestra, I could go on). But Hawkins was more than just a drummer. He was a course in musicianship and appreciation.

During their final concert before Hawkin’s passing, lead singer Dave Grohl told the crowd, “I don’t say goodbye. I don’t like to say goodbye. I know that we’ll always come back, we’ll come back. Will you come back? If you come back, we’ll come back, so then I won’t have to say goodbye.” It was soon after that, Taylor was gone. Kind of prophetic those words and what they would mean in the near future as all future tour dates and an appearance on the Grammy’s were cancelled. And who could blame Grohl or the rest of the band? The grief has to be unimaginable.

But as fans, we are selfish. We want more. We want more Foo Fighters. And if anyone can do it, it will be Grohl leading the way, and in a manner that honors Hawkins. All they have to do is look at their song, “Times Like These.” The main message of the song, “you learn to live again.” It is my hope, just as many others have gone through a tragedy like this, the Foo Fighters can continue on, just as their music will, and the memory of Taylor Hawkins.

Siblings, Best Friends


There are a few times in my life, that I must admit, I have “winged” it. The biggest part of my life, came with very little experience, my daughters. As an ACOD (adult child of divorce), my memories, thoughts, and ideas of parenting and child relationships come from a different perspective than others from the “traditional” families.

I grew up without my Dad present most of my childhood. The relationship between my sister and I changed as we grew older, and we grew apart. Friends that I knew, that had both parents, or had siblings, did not share these same experiences as I did. But I knew one thing for sure, while I could not have those experiences myself, I wanted my daughters to have those experiences, those relationships.

Unfortunately, their mother and I would divorce. But unlike my father, I stayed involved with my daughters as much as I could. I wanted to be their role model for morals, education, relationships. I wanted to be someone that they knew they could count on to come to, when they had something that needed to be dealt with. Most importantly, I want (and that is present tense on purpose) them to know, I will always support and encourage them as they steamroll into adulthood. I am hoping that they will have a better footing on life than I did when I started.

But if life plays out the way that it should, my daughters will have much more time with each other, than they got to have with me. And that is why I believed in building the bond between them, as early as possible.

From this moment, my second adoption in two years, a sibling relationship was created. They would play with each other, laugh with each other, perhaps scheme with each other, most importantly, love each other.

For sixteen years, it has been this way. And I feel good about their future together as siblings. They will be separated for the first time in their lives soon enough, with one heading off to college, and the other soon after. They will start their own lives with what they have learned in schools, and with what they were taught by me. Reunions with each other will require a little more thought to coordinate everyone’s availabilities. And with technology, we are all just a Factime or Zoom away from each other.

The other afternoon, I stepped inside the convenience store to pay for my gas. As I was waiting, I noticed a pair of children, clearly brother and sister. They were helping each other select a package of candy their parents allowed them to get. But their parents were outside pumping gas. They were completing this task on their own. After selecting their choice, they approached the counter clerk, and the older brother proceeded to pull some money out of his pocket, while his younger sister looked up at her brother proudly, as he paid for their snacks. No bickering. No tantrums. Just cooperation.

Was it like this all of the time for them? It could be. I know when it came to my daughters, I had never witnessed any knockdown dragout arguments between them. Quite the contrary. As they have grown, and developed their own interests and strengths, they have learned to count on each other for assistance whether one assists the other with an art project, or a math assignment.

Seeing the young siblings reminded me just how far I had come from with my daughters, and as I recall the last sixteen years of their sibling relationship, I am pretty sure I got it right.

Gone, Not Forgotten


I am planning on this post being my last one about Covid19 for a while. No, I know it is not completely gone, if it will ever be. Everything we have learned over the last two plus years, hopefully will have us not only better prepared, but hopefully a better way for all to unite together for the common cause, next time something like this happens.

With other news stories dominating the headlines from the war in Ukraine to the slap heard round the world, the United States passed 1,000,000 deaths from Covid19, and there was never even any mention of it. Just as mass shootings or other tragedies, we have grown immune to the numbers coming from Covid19. There is good news however, as we finally seem to be nearing a sustainable level, to allow a “new normal” way of living, yes, with Covid19, just as we do with the flu, and other illnesses.

And with the lowering of the numbers, I felt with all the safety precautions still in place or at least advised, it was time to do something I had not done in over two years, travel to see my mother. In my lifetime, I have done my share of flying, but returning to the inside of an airport terminal for the first time since Covid19, the changes and procedures reminded me of when airport procedures changed following September 11. Yes, going through TSA had not changed with all of the inspections, although for me, having three new metal devices implanted in me from recent surgeries garnered me some extra attention.

The airports were a lot more crowded than I honestly felt comfortable with, but, I felt safe enough, as mask requirements were still in place. With the exception of the time on the plane, I kept safely distanced. I knew, with considerations planned ahead, this was a trip that would become how I live in a world that will always have Covid.

There was one moment however that stuck out to me, and one that I am okay with no matter what the attitude is or where.

The mask. I live in a state that has a kind of naive approach to the mask in either not believing in at least some benefit to the protection from the mask, or political theater. But back in my home state, the looks I was receiving for continuing to wear a mask, were more militant and threatening, assuming I believed in their claim that their state was tyrannical (newsflash – we have no state that is run under tyranny). It was really odd, just how strongly different the two states were in attitudes. Where I live, the numbers have shrunk of those advising me that I “do not have to wear a mask,” with some still trying to convince me that masks have no worth. But where I was now standing, back in my homes state, were glares that I was supporting a communist regime operated state government.

Here are the facts. After 28 months, I still have not tested positive. And that is not because I have not taken a test (remember that old theory – cases will go away if you stop testing?). I was in fact tested, three times, all for surgical procedures that I needed a negative test for, to save my life. It is simple, if you have it, it has nothing to do with the test.

Throughout the pandemic, I supported local businesses and restaurants with either take-out or curbside pick-up, only from businesses however, that demonstrated concern for the customers back in the beginning. The fact that some restaurants were only actually cleaning tables regularly after every customer at the beginning of the pandemic, and not before, is gross enough. And to their credit, the places I solicit, do still provide that better cleaning and sanitation. But others, went right back to the attitude, cleaning tables was secondary in thought.

Along with picking up take-out, I go to the grocery store and pharmacy myself. I put gas in my car myself. I do it at times that are slow, such as early morning or later in the evening to avoid crowds, something I do not care for anyway.

Physical fitness has been a little more difficult to pull off, but probably most important of all, especially with all of the cardiac issues that I have. But as I completed cardiac rehab, now for the third time, I learned how to exercise during Covid19 from air circulation, to sanitation of equipment, to distancing between others. And yes, all while wearing a mask. During that period, even those that were in their 80’s of age, were able to exercise while wearing a mask. My only decision is where to exercise. Do I go to a commercial establishment with all the fancy and current equipment, but with complete disregard for sanitation? Or do I use the fitness room where I am at, with no improvement to air handling, an honesty system for cleaning the equipment and for being positive or not for Covid19? I chose the latter with one other step, I go to exercise when I am the only one there. And I am okay with that, again, regardless of Covid19. If someone comes into the exercise room, I am okay with leaving.

I even took a small vacation with my daughters last year, during a previous “low Covid19 count” period. And we did it without testing positive ourselves afterward, because we followed recommendations.

My point is, the war cry by some, “living in fear,” ironically is not about how I choose to do things to protect myself from Covid19. I am actually living smart. My cardiologist has been clear right from the beginning, a diagnosis (at least unvaccinated) of Covid19, would kill me because of the condition of my heart. And we know the danger to heart from Covid19 as cardiac complications are up to six times higher if unvaccinated. And take it from someone with a compromised heart, the risks of something else make things all the more risky. Over the last few days, a fellow long term Hodgkin’s survivor passed away from cardiac arrest, following successful surgery from breast cancer. The human body can only take so much trauma. And I gave up nothing as far as the other war cry, “freedom,” as I have listed everything I have been doing, freely.

Do I have to go to the movies? Nah. I have not felt the need to see anything, and have no desire to see a movie that should have been a catalyst to get me back into the theaters, “The Batman,” but nope, not interested. Concerts? I have seen my share in my life.

Besides no desire to sit in a packed theater or arena wearing protective gear as if attending Galagher doing stand-up sitting in the splash zone just to protect myself from ignorant pigs who do not cover their faces when they sneeze or cough (as I have mentioned, this fact worries me more than Covid19 itself), the ticket prices are outrageous. And I understand, artists livelihoods were cut off over these two years, and they obviously want to make up their losses. I do not fault them for that.

Look, there were things that were done correctly during the pandemic, and there were things that were done wrong. Discoveries for diagnostics and treatments happened at lightning pace, while preparedness for medical supplies, staffing, and patient capacities fell way short of need. Communications were rushed, often incorrect, that when anything followed after, would be automatically subjected to doubt. And for the first time that I can remember in my lifetime, politics would erode common sense, when faced with a common enemy, disaster, or epidemic/pandemic (keep in mind, our country always did what it needed to do to stop other virus outbreaks).

It is my hope that we have learned so much over the last two years, for when the next “outbreak” occurs, because we know it will happen again. History has taught us that. Covid19 was no flu, no matter how anyone wanted to say it was. With eradication of Covid19 impossible, there will be flare ups just like there is a seasonal flu, and that will be the only comparison. It would take 17 years for the flu to have a death toll as Covid19. Unlike the flu, Covid19 had no test, and had no treatment or prevention. At best, all we could do was follow recommendations that would help reduce the possibility of contracting and dying from Covid19.

Yes, people will still die from Covid19, and people will die from the flu. Both have tests, both have treatments, both have vaccines. But what those three solutions and mitigations will not do, is resolve the politics that got in the way of common sense that could have and should have saved hundreds of thousands of lives.

But now, like every other virus I have had to deal with, I have now learned how to live in a world with Covid19 and I can do it. Are the masks perfect? No. Distancing? I do not like crowds anyway. Food? I still get great takeout. But when you seem me with a mask on, I will not apologize if it triggers something in you. Nor will I explain why I am still wearing the mask. I know why I do, and it does not affect you.

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