Tom, I have a weird feeling that Syd is going to be paying you another visit soon to let you know your father is safe and doing well. Keep your ears open.
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Interviewing Bassists Stories Pt. 3
- Thread starter Arthritic_Tom
- Start date
Funny you should say that...
Dad himself dropped by as I was writing you guys. He always wore Old Spice.
Can you think of any reason why I got a massive whiff of Old Spice as I was sitting here crying as I typed away at my computer?
All is well.
I will never write a tell-all about my father. He's not here to defend himself, and besides, you really wouldn't want to know. Seriously. Some things are simply too awful to have inside your head, and discussing my past has brought me nothing but grief. As I say in Ghosts, it's not necessary to talk about everything.
So, in the spirit of moving us back to where we were before, this will be my last post about my relationship with my father, unless someone asks me specific questions about HIM, not he and I. I've said all I want about my relationship with him.
Dad will NOT be off limits, and I will accept condolences like MouseRat's for as long as people feel the need to express them. In a very real way, I'm YOUR author. However, that author is Arthritic_Tom. The actual person, Tom Wictor, is really very private. Arthritic_Tom is an art project, both real and contrived. I may write more about my father, as though he were another person's father--because he was an extraordinary man on multiple levels--but this will be my last comment on my relationship with him:
"At age fifty, every man has the face he deserves." -- George Orwell
So, in the spirit of moving us back to where we were before, this will be my last post about my relationship with my father, unless someone asks me specific questions about HIM, not he and I. I've said all I want about my relationship with him.
Dad will NOT be off limits, and I will accept condolences like MouseRat's for as long as people feel the need to express them. In a very real way, I'm YOUR author. However, that author is Arthritic_Tom. The actual person, Tom Wictor, is really very private. Arthritic_Tom is an art project, both real and contrived. I may write more about my father, as though he were another person's father--because he was an extraordinary man on multiple levels--but this will be my last comment on my relationship with him:
"At age fifty, every man has the face he deserves." -- George Orwell
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Condolances on your loss Tom.
"Cancer metastasized to the brain"... My father went through that (many years ago), I know the past few weeks have been hard for everyone.
"Cancer metastasized to the brain"... My father went through that (many years ago), I know the past few weeks have been hard for everyone.
I love you, my brother from another mother. We're part of a club that we want to have no members at all.
Thank you. It's not the best experience one can have, is it?I lost my dad a couple years ago - my condolences.
However, if you stop breaking my (bleep), I'll send Tim after you.
In fact, your next post to me needs to be teasing or even mildly insulting.
You might find that awkward, so let me give you some material to tease me about.
As disproportionately large as my head is, it still fits inside a cereal box. A big cereal box, to be sure, but a cereal box nonetheless.
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So sorry to hear of your loss Tom, what a crazy, crazy time it must be for you right now. It's quite amazing I feel that you've had to deal with all the family business to do with your Dad yet you've still managed to check in with us here and indulge us with jokes about the book and Frank Zappa album choices. Fairdo's and hats off to you, I feel quite humbled.
I'm glad you found peace with your Dad in the end, hopefully another great weight lifted for you.
All the best Tom, big love to you and yours from Wales - the land of the Dragon.
I'm glad you found peace with your Dad in the end, hopefully another great weight lifted for you.
All the best Tom, big love to you and yours from Wales - the land of the Dragon.
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The land of the Dragon! You're right! Maybe Dad is in Wales now.
It was unpleasant and depressing to care for Dad, but it wasn't hard. Talkbass was my refuge.
To show you the kind of man Dad was:
We had to have an emergency admittance to the hospice because he'd become unmanageable. The way it works is that a doctor signs an evaluation order, a nurse comes out and evaluates the patient, and the determination is made whether or not the patient is suitable for hospice care.
If you read my book, the short story titled "The Second Really Weird Disease" features the doctor who signed the order. He's an enigmatic Taiwanese, my doctor as well as Dad's, and when I asked him for the evaluation, for the first time he became unenigmatic and expressed sincere condolences. I shook his hand and thanked him for all the years he'd looked after Dad, and he walked me to the door with his hand on my shoulder.
You'll see in the book that his physical touch may have helped me before, and maybe he gave me the strength to see my father through this very stressful experience. He's got magical powers, I believe.
When Dad was admitted to the hospice, he was barely conscious. Most of the time he didn't know where he was or even who he was. Tim slept at Mom and Dad's house during this period, and once Dad came out of his room at 3:00 A.M., saw Tim on the sofa, and thought he was a cast member from American Pawn Shop who had helped my stalker kidnap me and was demanding a house in Texas for my nephew as ransom. Hilarity ensured! Later, Dad told us he was negotiating missile treaties with Norway.
At the hospice, the nurses helped Dad into his gown. One said, "Gosh, sweetie, you're so tall and fit! You're a six footer, aren't you? The girls are going to be all over you!"
One of the last coherent things Dad said in this life was, "I sincerely doubt it."
Tom - unlike many here I can't personally identify with your loss but as one human to another, my condolences.
I lost my mom to AML (Leukemia) several years ago and can relate as well. On behalf of Roadkill (my beloved TB uncle) and myself, I humbly offer the following:
Well, that's not what I was going to recommend you pull your head out of.
"Pull your head out of the box!"
It could become a new cryptic slogan-slash-insult that'll sweep through the universe of social media.
"Dude, pull your head out of the box."
Those kids with their bop lingo.
Condolences. My dad passed a year and a half ago, so like others here I can sympathize. Just remember the old phrase, when one door closes another one opens. It takes a while to realize, but life goes on. I am glad you were able to find peace with him before he was gone.
Thanks very much. I appreciate it.
I'm ready for some NEW (BLEEP)ING DOORS TO BE OPENED!!
Wait: Did I just scream that? Sorry.
Thank you, and very nice! It's got the weird, zany inevitability of the best demotivational posters.thats a great saying and i just had to do this.
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also my condolences.
Since you came up with it, I hereby relinquish all rights of it to you. Use it in good health, if you feel so inclined.
Just a quick note to everyone I've promised books or book plates:
My entire plan for marketing the book has fallen apart, and my father's illness and death are only half the story. Another shoe will drop in the next month.
Everything should be resolved soon on the book front. All it entails is a couple changes of direction. It's VERY IMPORTANT TO ME that you all know that I appreciated the help you gave me, and I promise that I'll follow through.
I keep my promises, because you all pitched in out of the goodness of your hearts. The amazing thing about this period is that it required me to be as clear headed as possible, but stress exacerbates the brain fog caused by the Meniere's disease. I honestly don't know up from down right now.
Everyone's name and address is stored safely on my 'puter. Cooler heads have prevailed; I've been talked out of the metaphorical Götterdämmerung I was about to set into motion.
This is apparently a test of the newly installed Happiness System to see if it actually works, because I find myself in virtually the same situation I was in when I was a music journalist. If you read the book, there's a short story in the Chapter Lessons Learned, titled "Don't Hate Yourself When you Backslide." I'll always have rage issues. Always. They stem from my pathological need to redress what I perceive as injustice. And boy, was I about to backslide!
My friend Mark has talked me out of my brilliant plan to make the current situation exponentially worse by writing things that will guarantee that I terminally piss off those with power over me.
The question has become this: Have I truly learned any lessons, or am I one of the posturing poseurs I criticize?
I've discovered at the last possible second that I've learned lessons. I won't make everything worse by giving in to the rage that brought me where I am today. Crud happens. Nobody cares if I think something is unjust or not. Machinery is set in motion and--as I wrote my own self--there are people in this world who will never, under any circumstances, understand what I'm trying to say. We are simply different species. I'm a Lost Lemur, and I must keep moving.
So, disaster has been averted, I believe.
But I'm my father's son. Dad waited until the last possible second before he repented. In the final month of his life, he told me that he should've kept his mouth shut on many, many occasions, but he didn't, and he paid for it. He refused to control himself.
I've already paid almost everything I can afford, so I'm keeping my mouth shut.
Oh, but the temptation! If you only knew. This is the absurd part of life, the indestructible fatuousness and impenetrability. As Marlene Dietrich was fond of saying, "Sweetheart! It is to laugh!"
So instead of self-destructing, I'll post a photo of Ms. Dietrich at her hottest, and we'll call it a day.
http://altscreen.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/blondevenus1-e1312043940358.jpg
My entire plan for marketing the book has fallen apart, and my father's illness and death are only half the story. Another shoe will drop in the next month.
Everything should be resolved soon on the book front. All it entails is a couple changes of direction. It's VERY IMPORTANT TO ME that you all know that I appreciated the help you gave me, and I promise that I'll follow through.
I keep my promises, because you all pitched in out of the goodness of your hearts. The amazing thing about this period is that it required me to be as clear headed as possible, but stress exacerbates the brain fog caused by the Meniere's disease. I honestly don't know up from down right now.
Everyone's name and address is stored safely on my 'puter. Cooler heads have prevailed; I've been talked out of the metaphorical Götterdämmerung I was about to set into motion.
This is apparently a test of the newly installed Happiness System to see if it actually works, because I find myself in virtually the same situation I was in when I was a music journalist. If you read the book, there's a short story in the Chapter Lessons Learned, titled "Don't Hate Yourself When you Backslide." I'll always have rage issues. Always. They stem from my pathological need to redress what I perceive as injustice. And boy, was I about to backslide!
My friend Mark has talked me out of my brilliant plan to make the current situation exponentially worse by writing things that will guarantee that I terminally piss off those with power over me.
The question has become this: Have I truly learned any lessons, or am I one of the posturing poseurs I criticize?
I've discovered at the last possible second that I've learned lessons. I won't make everything worse by giving in to the rage that brought me where I am today. Crud happens. Nobody cares if I think something is unjust or not. Machinery is set in motion and--as I wrote my own self--there are people in this world who will never, under any circumstances, understand what I'm trying to say. We are simply different species. I'm a Lost Lemur, and I must keep moving.
So, disaster has been averted, I believe.
But I'm my father's son. Dad waited until the last possible second before he repented. In the final month of his life, he told me that he should've kept his mouth shut on many, many occasions, but he didn't, and he paid for it. He refused to control himself.
I've already paid almost everything I can afford, so I'm keeping my mouth shut.
Oh, but the temptation! If you only knew. This is the absurd part of life, the indestructible fatuousness and impenetrability. As Marlene Dietrich was fond of saying, "Sweetheart! It is to laugh!"
So instead of self-destructing, I'll post a photo of Ms. Dietrich at her hottest, and we'll call it a day.
http://altscreen.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/blondevenus1-e1312043940358.jpg
Hey Tom,
Are any of your books available as ebooks on b&n/nook? I was searching for Ghosts as well as Cold Sweat and turned up nuthin. 😤
Are any of your books available as ebooks on b&n/nook? I was searching for Ghosts as well as Cold Sweat and turned up nuthin. 😤
Just catching up here.
Tom, I am so sorry for your loss. What is it with dads/parents here? My dad died last month, and there is now a hole in the universe that will not be filled - for me - until time eventually fills it with fondest memories and the presence of my own family. (My wife is currently working in Kazakhstan and returns in June. Last child - son - is in college and comes back in May sometime.)
Dad's side of the family was known for strokes, and that's what killed him. (Gotta watch this, myself!!) That he made it to 84 was remarkable, but he was always a health/fitness guy, and that is probably why he made it as far as he did. My BP is beginning to skyrocket due to job pressures, age, etc., and I have to figure out a solution asap beyond my own regime of exercise and diet which, up until about a year ago, was working fairly well. I'm adverse to meds, but that is most likely what I'm going to have to do.
That is, I think, a lesson for us all - our own health. You have described some of your issues, and I think it is fantastic that you have dealt with it as well as you have, and this recent issue about rage is a case in point - you ARE dealing, and it appears to be working. Keep it up!
Like they say when you fly during the obligatory emergency lecture before takeoff: put on your own oxygen mask first, and then help others. If we don't have our (own) health, everything else suffers.
I got my copy of G&B a couple days ago. Great read so far - review to follow. Thanks!
Tom, I am so sorry for your loss. What is it with dads/parents here? My dad died last month, and there is now a hole in the universe that will not be filled - for me - until time eventually fills it with fondest memories and the presence of my own family. (My wife is currently working in Kazakhstan and returns in June. Last child - son - is in college and comes back in May sometime.)
Dad's side of the family was known for strokes, and that's what killed him. (Gotta watch this, myself!!) That he made it to 84 was remarkable, but he was always a health/fitness guy, and that is probably why he made it as far as he did. My BP is beginning to skyrocket due to job pressures, age, etc., and I have to figure out a solution asap beyond my own regime of exercise and diet which, up until about a year ago, was working fairly well. I'm adverse to meds, but that is most likely what I'm going to have to do.
That is, I think, a lesson for us all - our own health. You have described some of your issues, and I think it is fantastic that you have dealt with it as well as you have, and this recent issue about rage is a case in point - you ARE dealing, and it appears to be working. Keep it up!
Like they say when you fly during the obligatory emergency lecture before takeoff: put on your own oxygen mask first, and then help others. If we don't have our (own) health, everything else suffers.
I got my copy of G&B a couple days ago. Great read so far - review to follow. Thanks!
