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Elusive Salvation
Um. MsGrant, I and several people who post regularly about John have certainly had some direct experience with his shortcomings, as well as his positive aspects. And I have never defended anyone's alcoholic behavior, nor glamorized such behavior. And in particular, I have long pointed out that John's actions damage far more than himself. I think you do me a disservice by claiming otherwise, with all due respect. I watched someone I thought of as a brother self-destruct in slow motion, with that destruction spreading outward, like ricochets. And I never have given John a "pass," as you appear to presume. I just don't see the point in continually reminding him that he should act differently. Criticizing children continually seldom works; why would it for a man sixty years old? Should John "own" his actions? Of course. Should he apologize to people he has hurt? Yes. But whether he does or does not is something I have no control over. Only he does. I don't think alcoholism is glamorous, or associated with creativity. I knew John before he dissolved in the liquor. I wish you had, in fact. And for what it is worth, my mother's father and brother died of the stuff. Her brother lay dead in a flophouse for a week before anyone found him. I saw the effects of all this on my grandmother and my mother at the time, and to this day. I have never given alcoholics a pass on their behavior, any more than you have. Again, my best wishes on your own family challenges. All anyone can do is their best. And as you say, to own what they do---bad and good. And everyone's road has its own set of painful potholes.— June 23, 2010 2:23 p.m.
Dream a Little Dream of Fear
Actually, John, your green web? It's more than patients in the ICU. It's all the connections you have to everyone, by word or by deed, throughout your life. Thomas Mann comes to mind: "A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own." Of course, I hope you remember the joke about what a dream *really* means. Me, I hope that you crawl up into the light, now or later. But if you do not, remember that you have done many good things, as well as things you wished you had done differently. Like most all of us. The young wish for justice. Wise elders wish for mercy. You have done much good, John, and I think of you often. And always, always wish you well.— June 23, 2010 1:05 p.m.
Elusive Salvation
Most people posting here, MsGrant, do not give John a "pass" on his drinking. In many ways, neither does John. It's just that he gave up. Any addict will tell you staying clean is difficult, and it is easier to give in...and that is what happened. None of that takes away from John's skill as a writer, nor from his value to his friends. Yes, he damaged many friendships. But I will remember a different John, and I hope that others can, too. Your comment about what alcoholism steals is apt. My thoughts are with you and your family as they face their ongoing crisis.— June 23, 2010 11:45 a.m.
Elusive Salvation
And Part II---apologies again... John, we used to talk about my depressing favorite philosopher, Marcus Aurelius. And the Stoic-Emperor had a quotation made for you: "Execute every act of thy life as though it were thy last." Marcus Aurelius wrote that to himself, in the grip of tuberculosis on some German marsh---Death's cold hand trying to find purchase on his shoulder. And despite the Roman Hallmark Card nature of the quote, it is very true. Every day is a gift, a fresh start. And every day might the last for any of us, not just those with dire medical conditions. I want you to know, John (if you are reading this), that I have always valued your friendship, and always believed in your potential to be a good man, no matter how far short you felt (or others felt) you were of that goal. And you remain such a fine writer. I know you are no longer interested in trying to crawl up out of the dark, and I accept that. So let me remind you again---no matter the past few years---of the laughter and comradeship your brought to my life. It mattered, and it is valued, no matter what. Most of all, John, thank you for the birthday present of at least this one column. I will sing the "Doiley" song you wrote to laugh, and remember your kind and helpful words for the piece of fiction I ever wrote, to feel serious. And I will have my sons say a prayer for you tomorrow, and it doesn't matter if there is no God. I will join them in prayer on your behalf, if you don't mind. There is always redemption. Jung's words come to mind: "Vocatus atque non vocatus Deus aderit." Thinking of you, John, and wishing you any happiness you care to accept. You were, and are, like an older brother to me.— June 22, 2010 11:26 p.m.
Elusive Salvation
Since I have no way to contact John, and he might read this, please forgive this message... I checked to see if JB wrote another essay as the weeks passed. Nothing. Neil Young's lyrics came to mind. I went to two conferences in San Diego, and worried that I would see John, destitute, in the Gaslamp. Magical thinking, given the size of and sprawl of San Diego. There were certainly men and women lost in madness on the streets, as I used to see in the Gaslamp when I lived in San Diego. I saw Forgotten Men and Forgotten Women walking around, in and out of reality, but no John. Back home, I finally stopped checking for John's essays, thinking the worst, and hearing from those who had tried to host and help him---and concluded that John's demons had long overpowered him, and finished their task. Yes, there is ownership involved, but that doesn't erase the demons. Imagine my happiness to find (even a few days late), that John posted a new essay on my very birthday, like a present of sorts to me, since I have long worried about John and have not heard from him directly in almost two years. Yes, there is some self pity. And some sea-scent of T.S. Eliot's rolled up trousers to match Walt Whitman's bickering satellites of contradiction. But it was John's voice on the page. Still, it was a welcome echo of the man who had been my friend for a couple of decades, and stood by me (quite a different kind of person than JB) resolutely before the alcohol dissolved most of his persona.— June 22, 2010 11:25 p.m.
Life as Workweek
Well, Christian, it depends on whether or not the studio rental gets paid, and if the band members are vertical enough to perform. John used to play in several bands, even in San Diego. I learned a lot about blues music from him.— April 14, 2010 12:11 a.m.
Life as Workweek
Um, Charts? Freedom is great. Ripping off other people is not freedom. Neither is not taking responsibility for one's own actions. I think you confuse selfishness with freedom. And if your indiscretions involved taking advantage of others, perhaps you should feel regret. Your choice. To me, to be libertarian is not license. Or maybe it is to you. I think all kinds of people project their own issues onto John. I have known JB since 1987. You?— April 13, 2010 5:50 p.m.
Life as Workweek
I think that it is great to enjoy life. I think it is wonderful to "march to the beat of a different drummer." I am also enough of a libertarian to accept when someone chooses to spurn all the prior luck and beauty in one's life and choose to drink oneself to death (though it is the height of selfishness and wasteful besides). What such a person should *not* do is use others to fund that process. It's always wrong to use other people, and is not artistic or avant-garde. It's immature and small-spirited. Gussying it up with a somehow tragic Byronic pose would have made George Gordon sneer. I want nothing but the best for JB, but he needs to own his actions, and do right by others. There is a whole history here that some of the posters don't know. They keep putting Tragic Arteest masks on John. All there is hope, and there is historical reality.— April 11, 2010 11:12 a.m.
Life as Workweek
Well, I appreciate what Xian and SD both write---mournful in the one case, and rightfully irritated in the other. JB seems to vacillate between a lack of ownership and wallowing in it. Both are bad, for him and for his friends. If I knew my time was short, I would try to repair damage. When I knew John well, back in the old days, we would often chat about fiction. One writer we both enjoyed was James Lee Burke. John liked him too, but I noticed as the alcohol began to occupy more and more of his center, the less and less my friend enjoyed Burke. Burke's protagonist in many of his novels, Dave Robicheaux, is a recovering alcoholic, who owns his disorder and tries to make amends, one day at a time (and often falls from grace). One line was especially insightful. Robicheaux muses that alcoholics, like all junkies, are constantly running a game. Often on themselves. And so it goes. I want to believe that John can clean up, can hold his head high, can value and respect his friends they way they value and respect him. I mean look at the value and style in his writing. And he was such a valued and valuable friend, back in the day. But *John* has to take that step up. All I can do now is pray/hope for the best. And remember my friend from the old days. Marcus Aurelius wrote that we should treat every day like our last---because sooner or later, it will be. Stoicism is not popular, but it is honorable. Thinking of you, John. Of funny songs. Bad jokes. Buddy Guy. Jose Sinatra. Cover bands with stunt chests. And one time in particular, when I felt particularly low, and you put a hand on my shoulder. You said "Hang on," as if the advice was the solution to a problem in tensor calculus: urgent and intent. And you gave me a copy of Merton's "The Seven Storey Mountain," and Augustine's "City of God." Hope was the last thing to escape from Pandora's Box.— April 7, 2010 4:35 p.m.
Hobnobbing at the Hob Nob
Things may indeed be dire. But I would rather hope for the positive. Sooner or later, bad news becomes truth, but Cassandra was a bore at parties, metaphorically speaking. John Brizzolara has been through awful situations long ago, worse than this, and recovered. Maybe that will happen here. Maybe not. I know which I would rather hope for. And pray for. Just my two cents. No one at all can replace John Brizzolara, Different, maybe. But it wouldn't be TGIF without him. Fingers crossed. And the most important thing? John Brizzolara never gave up on me. Ever. So out of respect for that man, I will continue to hope (and pray) for the best.— March 20, 2010 3 p.m.