1. Today, Sunday, is the five year anniversary of the death of Christy's husband, Everett. When Christy reminded Carol and me that Everett had passed away shortly after midnight on November 30, 2020, I went to my blog, trusting that I had posted some details about Everett's last full day of life and what transpired that early morning of November 30th and later on that day.
My blog post reminded me that on Sunday, November 29th, Everett was quietly surrendering his life to having it end. I wonder if Christy, Carol, Paul, and I were all thinking, as we witnessed his fragility, about how strong physically, mentally, and spiritually Everett had been for so many of his ninety years.
Today, I once again marveled at Everett's durability when I remembered back to July of 2015 when Carol, Paul, Molly, and I helped on day one of Everett and Christy's move from near Kettle Falls to Kellogg.
It was blisteringly hot out, for sure in the high 90s and maybe even the 100s.
Everett was eighty-five -- that's 85 years old -- and under this thick wool blanket of suffocating heat, he worked steadily, most productively, and uncomplainingly with the rest of us to get the U-Haul truck loaded.
Then he drove the truck to Kellogg.
Paul, Everett, Christy, and I returned to Kettle Falls the next day for the last load of the move and, once again, Everett was mighty. indomitable.
But, on November 29th, five and a half years later, all of that physical strength was gone, but not Everett's spiritual strength as he quietly and peacefully gave himself over to leaving this life and moving on to the glory he so strongly believed was in the next.
2. As I mentioned in my Saturday, November 29th post, Jeff Harrison sent me an email on Saturday urging me to listen to his Deadish show that aired on Thanksgiving night. Normally, Jeff doesn't ask me to be sure to listen to any one of his programs, so I wondered what music he played on this show that he thought I might be especially interested in.
So I went to the KEPW archives, found the November 27th show, clicked the play button, and listened as Jeff opened his show by announcing this would be his last Deadish program. He simply said that after six and a half years, he decided the show had run its course.
Jeff retired this show without fanfare.
He had recorded this show for Nov. 20th, but because the station had a power outage on the 20th, it played on the 27th, on Thanksgiving Day.
Jeff's music selections came from different November 20th shows over the years, beginning with Quicksilver Messenger Service and Hot Tuna and then moving to the Grateful Dead with special emphasis on the Dead's 11-20-1973 show in Denver.
I haven't been to Eugene very often since Jeff started broadcasting Deadish six and a half years ago.
But on, what? two? three? more? occasions, Jeff and I listened to his show, which he'd recorded the previous Sunday, on Thursday evenings at his house.
Those evenings, relaxing at Jeff's, listening to his impeccable selections, talking about the Grateful Dead, Zero, Billy Strings, and many other musicians in the Deadish universe made me uniquely happy, brought me into an experience I do not have with anyone else.
On those evenings, I was an absorber, not a contributor.
Jeff's encyclopedic knowledge of the Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Zero, and numerous other bands and musicians over the last 60 years who fit Jeff's understanding of Deadish is inspiring, fascinating, and, above all, fun.
Going back to yesterday's post, one aspect of what I enjoyed so much about having coffee over the last few decades with Jeff, Margaret, and Michael is that they all can speak so freely and easily about the great stores of knowledge they have about teaching, movies, critical theory, jazz, books, other genres of music, gardening, essays, current events, history, and so much more.
I'm wondering if on Saturday Michael, Margaret, and Jeff talked at all about Jeff's decision to end Deadish.
I sure have been.
Inside myself.
3. I was going to write remembrances of unforgettable experiences I've had at Sam Bond's Garage, one of my very favorite bars and music venues in Eugene.
Two of my Facebook friends have posted thoughtful and sad pieces as they report Sam Bond's Garage has closed (although it looks like they'll have one more Bingo night on Dec 1).
I'm going to publish my stuff about Sam Bond's Garage here at a later time. I want to think more, remember more, find some old pictures, and I want to see what gets posted on Sam Bond's website and Facebook account about the closing.
So far those two sites make it seem like it's still in business, but my guess is that whoever minds these accounts simply hasn't updated them yet.
I know a huge part of growing old is saying goodbye to places and institutions that have their own kind of mortality.
I mean Deadish wasn't going to last forever.
I was sad to say goodbye to one of my spiritual centers in Eugene, Sixteen Tons on 13th and High. But it wasn't immortal.
The mighty Rogue Ales is gone. Bankrupt. Whatever others think of Rogue, for me it brewed one of the beers that I have the most happy memories of: Shakespeare Stout. On the other end of the beer spectrum, I also very much enjoyed their Honey Kolsch and I enjoyed Rogue's short-lived pub in downtown Eugene. But Rogue was not too big to fail.
Debbie and I loved the Old Line Bistro in Beltsville, MD. It's gone.
So is another favorite taproom of ours in Colesville, MD: Quench.
The beat goes on.
After all, "They say that all good things must end some day."
Chad and Jeremy were right, but I don't always like it.
Even as I accept it.