The Chaos of Life and the Music of Suicide

Hi, my name is Paul. This is my first blog here and I’m kind of messed up. (Hi, Paul.) Since I finished my first Master’s degree in 1985 I have worked in bars, colleges, universities, churches, motels, insurance, and now at Steelcase. It was the turn of the millennium when working at the University of Arkansas that I was diagnosed with depression. It’s not like one day I was feeling under the weather and decided to go for mental health screening. No, I’d felt off-center for years. I finally felt that it was time to see somebody and do something about it. Then I began my long line of medications and counselors.

About 30 months ago, fifteen-some years after my original diagnosis, I was hospitalized. That first Master’s degree? It’s a Counselor Education degree focusing on College Student Development with classwork in crisis counseling. This is what I knew because of my training. First—I wanted to hurt myself; for me that’s a euphemism for “I wanted to commit suicide.” Second—As soon as I shared this, I knew my counselor would ask me a bunch of questions to “evaluate” my suicide plan. She would check the lethality of my plan, my access to execute the plan, and the possibility of being saved.

The third one is interesting. Was I going to try to overdose in the house where people come and go all day? If so, there would have been a very good chance that I would be found, a very good chance I wanted to be found. Highly survivable. That’s really a good sign for a counselor. As for me, my possibility of being found/saved was so remote she asked me to never share it.

So, my lethality as B-, my access was A-, but my lethality/would I be found in time to be saved was A+ with extra credit meaning I had no intention of being found alive. With that knowledge, knowing I was a danger to myself, the only question she had was would she have me committed with my cooperation or not. I cooperated. Like I said, I knew enough, but it was a struggle to actually say “let’s do it.”

I spent ten days in the hospital. I was in individual and group counseling. I spent most of my down time reading my bible and accidentally became the Chaplain on my ward. It was bizarre, it was surreal. It was also where I got my new, improved diagnosis, Type II Bi-Polar Disorder with Anxiety. When I saw my counselor for the first time after getting out, she asked me what I thought about the diagnosis and I told her, “I like it! It’s not that I’m glad to have this disorder, but it explains so much!” The chaos of my life finally fit into a description, a diagnosis. That was comforting.

I’ve given you this much history to give you this. A friend in Wyoming (the Grand Rapids suburb) who also suffers from Bi-Polar disorder introduced me to Disability Advocates of Kent County through LaughFest. I auditioned and performed at the St. Patrick’s Day LaughFest event, which is how I met Maddie Schaab. The other day she posted a link to an article on the Disability Advocates Facebook page called "It’s not what you think" about the death by suicide of Soundgarden front man Chris Cornell. After lamenting the accidentally self-inflected deaths of so many grunge era musicians, author Rich Larsen writes:

Chris Cornell died of suicide on May 17, 2017, at the age of 52. He was a dad. He was a philanthropist. He was becoming an elder statesman of rock. He was a grown up. Cornell was aging gracefully, even doing that thing where some guys get better looking as they get older. He got Soundgarden back together, and they made a great new album a couple years ago. His voice still had all the power and strength it had displayed in his youth. Much like the rest of us, the world had kicked his ass a couple times, and he survived.

But now he’s gone, and goddammit, his is the death that bothers me the most. As I’ve been thinking about this, I’m realizing that it’s both a personal and a generational thing. Cornell had a long struggle with depression. As have I. As have many of you.

I want to say this again, Chris Cornell was a grown up. He had his problems. He struggled with depression, as many of us do. He seemed to have his stuff under control. No drink, no drugs. Great show in Detroit. He seemed to have his stuff together… and he hangs himself in a hotel room.

This should be the time in the blog when I mention that I wrote this on Memorial Day. In 2016, the Military Times reported that on the average 20 veterans kill themselves daily, which is twice the national average ("New VA study finds 20 veterans commit suicide each day"). Considering Vets make up 9% of the population, this number is disproportionately large.

Among persons with disabilities I can’t find numbers as easy to understand as exist with veterans in the popular press. Sorry Google, I couldn’t. One scholarly article that evaluated over 100 articles and abstracted another 31 (Understanding suicide and disability through three major disabling conditions: Intellectual disability, spinal cord injury, and multiple sclerosis). Maybe the editor can find me better number and give me one of those little Ed. comments at the end of the blog. The general consensus is that the number is high enough that this deserves study.

In truth, in Truth, what is really important comes from the lyrics of a song by The Rainmakers front man Bob Walkenhorst, “Numbers don’t lie, but numbers don’t bleed.”

Talking about the music of suicide in his life, Rich Larsen lamented the deaths of Andrew Wood of Mother Love Bone, Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain, Kristen Pfaff of Hole, and Shannon Hoon of Blind Melon. Of Alice in Chains’ Layne Staley gruesome overdose he wrote, “The fact that his body was not discovered for more than a week felt somehow fitting. He was emblematic of a generation that just wanted to be left alone.”

As for me, I remember Del Shannon, Keith Emerson of ELP, Bob Welch who was better known for his solo career than his time with Fleetwood Mac, Michael Hutchence from INXS, and Allman Brothers Band drummer Butch Trucks. Following Larsen’s example, citing those whose death was “suicide by lifestyle” there was the trinity, Jimi, Janis, and Jim. John “Bonzo” Bonham, The Who’s rhythm section of Keith Moon and John Entwistle, Lowell George of Little Feat, AC/DC’s Bon Scott, Howie Epstein who played bass for The Heartbreakers, and Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy. Amy Winehouse! Prince!

On the subject of royalty, did I mention Elvis? Did I mention Michael Jackson? The King of Rock and the King of Pop? Numbers don’t lie, but numbers don’t bleed.

None of these struck me harder than the death by self-inflicted shotgun blast of Megan Walsh before Christmas of 1987. She was my first love, going to school in Wyoming (the state, not the Grand Rapids suburb), and she was coming home to Kansas City for the holidays. After a time of personal angst and alcohol abuse, I finally knew how I felt about her and was going to tell her, consequences be damned. Then I got the call about her death from my sister. Damn, the consequences...

About suicide, her mother said to me, “Don’t you ever do that, Paul. You hear me. Don’t you ever do that.” I told her, “No, Nancy. I won’t.” Twenty years later, as I contemplated my own death, I remembered that conversation and knew how far I had come. I knew her plea. I remembered well her heart wrenching plea and even that could not keep me from wanting to end it. I knew I was rounding a corner there was no way back from.

I also knew I was in so much pain that if anybody had told me “this was a permanent solution to a temporary problem” my reply would have been “yes, permanent.”

That’s what’s so seductive about voluntary death. All those problems, coming like a flood from a burst dam to sweep you to pain, sorrow, despair, and hopelessness… death ends all of that—permanently.

Some would have this be the part of the blog where I tell you not to be seduced, tomorrow is only a day away. Let’s be honest though, with the music in this post, the soundtrack from “Annie” is out of place.

Now that’s what makes this post difficult. You my gentle reader, whether you are suffering or know someone who is, the last thing you want to read is a platitude. We’ve already dealt with “the permanent solution to the temporary problem” and “wait ‘til tomorrow.” You don’t want to read that “everything will be better” because all evidence points to the contrary.

So here’s what I will say. There is help out there. Friends and family usually don’t have all of the resources needed if you have deep depression. If you are contemplating hurting yourself the people who love you will probably hit you with the reflex saying, “Oh no you’re not, you’re just… (insert whatever here).” That doesn’t help anybody.

Name your hurt. Claim your pain. Find what you need. The good people here at Disability Advocates can help point you in the right direction.

To close, this is the last chorus from “Everybody Hurts” from REM’s “Automatic for the People.”

Well, everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody cries
And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes
So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on

Everybody hurts

You are not alone

Really, you’re not alone. We’re not alone.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline phone number is 1-800-273-8255. There website can be found here.

Pastor Paul's August 30 Newsletter Article

Here's my article for the August 30 Federated Flash

Pastor Paul’s Letter to the Church at Weatherford

I must have discovered the music of Jim Croce the day he died; but when I did, it was with a vengeance. One of my favorites is from his last album, released a little more than two months after his death. The song is called “Recently” and warns about having a long memory. The bridge and last verse go like this:

'Cause mem'ries can be friends
Or they can take you to a place
The you never thought you'd be again
And take you to a place
That you never ever thought
That you would see again

Doesn't matter now who was wrong
The future is tomorrow 'cause the past is gone
And I'm findin' that I'm not as strong
As I thought that I used to be
'Cause recently it seems
I've been lettin' your mem'ry get to me

Remembering the future is nice, but when our memories get to us, it hurts our ability to live in the present. The Church (Capital “C” Church) is getting itself into trouble, it’s letting its mem’ries get the better of it. The Church, like so much of America, likes to remember “The Good Ol’ Days.” Those days when everything was better and we were on top and things were the way “they were supposed to be.” There are two problems with this though. The first is that nostalgia is always better than the real thing. The second is like the first, were the good times really that good?

As for the church, these were the days when women couldn’t hold congregational or denominational leadership roles. These were the days when children were herded and not seen, wait, that’s seen and not heard. If you weren’t wearing a suit or a dress, you were seated in the back. If your skin was the “wrong” color, you wouldn’t be seated at all.

Those days are gone, thanks be to God! So here’s our problem, when we mourn the past, we leave no room for the future. When we let our memories get to us, we choke the ability to live in the present. Neither of these will do.

Matthew’s gospel teaches Jesus saying, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 6:25-27)

I’m not saying “don’t worry, be happy,” I’m saying there’s work to do in the Kingdom of God and we are called to do it. If we sing laments about the past all day long it won’t be long before that’s all we know. Share those memories, remember the Saints fondly, but if we do not train the next generation of Saints up then we will leave a church that is dedicated to the dead when it should be pointing to the Living God. So ask a question! Take someone under your wing! There is no such thing as a stupid question, only answers that give glory to God… or not… and remember, today’s youth are going to be leaders before we know it.

See you in Worship, Paul

The Big Lesson of Mayweather/Pacquiao

I love this song:

Here's the lyric that matters for to Floyd "Money" Mayweather:

When they asked him who was responsible
For the death of Du Koo Kim
He said, "Some one should have stopped the fight
And told me, it was him"
They made hypocrite judgments after the fact
But the name of the game is, be hit and hit back

People say Floyd Mayweather fights a boring fight. Can't disagree. He fights an amateur style fight in the professional arena. Hit, stick, get away. He's trying to score points, not knock anybody out.

Floyd Mayweather has decided the name of the game is not to hit and hit back. To Money, it's just to hit and get away. Boring, but hey, he has championships, money, and he just may escape the fight game with his life. When you see so many boxers looking permanently "punch drunk" later in life, he has a point. It's killing boxing for people who were raised on Ali, Frazier, Norton, Foreman, Tyson, Holyfield and other boxers who hit and hit back, but look at these men today, the ones who live beyond "archival footage."

Boring or not, he might be the big winner after all.

The Next "The Day the Music Died"

It's being widely reported that Dick Clark has died from a coronary and Levon Helm, drummer for The Band is desperately ill.

You know, I really don't have much to add to this, but it reflects a slice of my youth going to the permanent realm of memory. Go with God.

Standing Up for a Super Model

Yeah, I'm defending a super model. You've seen this somewhere either on the tube or online, I'm sure. Here's the take from TMZ...

Well, let me make a couple of points.

• It was a private moment in a public space.
• Yes, she was being goaded.
• She didn't "know" she was being recorded.
• Yeah, she should have known better thank to think she wasn't being recorded but...
• Frankly, she wasn't completely wrong.

In the end, she was doing what any guy can hope his Brazilian super model wife would do for him. She was standing by her man in the face of rowdy hooligans (an American football version of hooligan, mind you). If your teammates can't handle that your wife doesn't know "the code" of not talking down your teammates then apologize for her. Tell them you're sorry she lit the fuse, but she's just a feisty, long-legged, hot-blooded Brazilian super model and you can see her apology "in full" in the next Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.

So in honor of Gisele standing by her Tommy, I give you The Blues Brothers. Enjoy.

My Super Bowl XLVI Halftime Show Review

First, congratulations to the New York Giants for their Super Bowl victory. Congrats too to Eli Manning as MVP. While he deserved the acclaim and the award, I want to throw some love to Giants Defensive End Justin Tuck. Tuck had three tackles, two sacks, and forced the Safety on the first Pat's offensive play of the game. Justin Tuck did much to set the tone of the game and deserves props.  Now for the Halftime Show Review...

Two words: Hated it. Again, let's give props--it was a spectacle. If you were looking for a spectacle this was for you. As for me, I prefer when performers perform, give me Roger Daltry (whose performance I reviewed here) crackly voice and all over spit and polish.

If you want Cirque de Madonna, then just have the dancers to Madonna music. Having Madge there "performing but not singing" was just redundant.

One more note, an informal poll of my facebook friends loved the Halftime Show. As for my friends who are professional musicians, they hated it. As far as I'm concerned, that split says it all.

Sleep tight, Big Man

It's been a couple of weeks since the death of Clarence Clemons, also known as "Nick" or simply "The Big Man." It was my joy to have seen the E-Street Band at Kemper Arena in Kansas City during "The River Tour" on February 5, 1981.

First, it was a great show. Bruce was in jeans and a plaid shirt. The band wore blue suits and fedoras. It was great. For the second act, The Big Man came out in a blue leisure suit with cowboy boots and hat. It started close to an hour late, had a short intermission, three encores-the last one starting with Wilbert Harrison's "Kansas City," and lasted a total of four hours.

Yeah, Bruce and the band played for four hours.

I wondered what they would open with, was soon happy to hear the opening strains of "Prove It All Night" from "Darkness on the Edge of Town." What a great choice, great guitar solo, great sax solo and the night was off with a bang. The next song was "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out" and Bruce crowd surfed into the house. Finally people were just tossing him up and down chanting "Tenth" until it sounded like 14,000 people grunting through their noses.

During the second act, they did "Fire" and blew the roof off of Kemper Arena. They absolutely killed it.

The question has become "can the E-Street Band" go on? Well, at the Super Bowl the Tower of Power Horn Section played with the band, and it rocked. Of course, using six horns to replace one is just the mark of The Big Man's musical contribution. But his addition to the stage show is probably irreplaceable.

So sleep tight, Big Man. Rest well.

It's been a long time since I just put up a music video, and I'm not quite sure what prompted me to seek this one out, but I'm not sorry. It's hard to imagine that this gem of progressive rock came from a six piece band out of Topeka, Kansas.

One night when I was in college I saw Rich Williams, the guitar player on the left side of the video, playing pool in a 3.2 beer bar in Topeka. Ah, nostalgia...

Congrats to Alan Parsons at the ACM Awards

Plagiarism, it's a nasty word for a nasty theft. Lady Antebellum has made a mint off of this ditty. Good for them. Is the Alan Parson's Project getting any love? Only from people who know where it came from first. Love the song or hate the song, these melodies are way too close to be a coincidence. Vanilla Ice thinks it's too close to be a coincidence.

On another note, I finally heard the whole song all the way though the other night. It's about a couple trying to hook up on a late night booty call. Ah yes, drunken emotionless sex, now that's record of the year material.

A St. Patrick's Day Tale

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone!


This tale, written by Philip Chevron (acoustic guitar and background vocals on the video) is about the immigrant's tale. It's bittersweet and nostalgic, it's mournful and hopeful. It's what I expect from The Pogues. To tonight, as you heft a pint of the Stout (NOT a Black-and-Tan unless you're itchin' for a row) remember those who have come seeking better life.

My Super Bowl XLV Halftime Show Review

Well, I reviewed the halftime show for Super Bowl XLIV, so why not XLV?

Like I started last year, congratulations to the Green Bay Packers and their fans. They have certainly showed the world that the team building strategy begun three years ago was the right way to go.  Congrats again.

As for The Black Eyed Peas, can a set list be more derivative than this one?  People have complained that since the "Justin Timberlake creates a wardrobe malfunction" incident that the Super Bowl halftime show went safe, calling on classic rock stars who have a following, but won't create an incident.  (How Prince made that list is beyond me, but maybe he was the exception to prove the rule.)  So how about that Peas song that is lyric thrown onto a classic surf song.  I know it's a surf song because the tune is on the Pulp Fiction soundtrack.

Slash doing "Sweet Child of Mine"?  Love Slash!  This was just misplaced.  Fergie is no Axl Rose.  On a side note, Axl must have had a heart attack.  He hates it when Slash uses their music, but at least Axl got paid.  Axl doesn't know whether to hate it or cash the check, thus the coronary.

Usher?  Why?

The dancers, I saw a blog that said it was Tron inspired.  Derivative?  Dancers based on a 2011 movie remake from the 80's.

What was that thing on will.i.am's head and did it protect him from ice falling off the Jerry Dome?

Autotune?  STOP IT!  Singing that doesn't have to be scrubbed is so much better.

Did Daltry sound like his voice was blown out last year?  I think so.  Tom Petty in a beard looking like a mountain man?  Leave that for the cameo in "The Postman."  Springsteen singing "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out" for six hours?  How many times can you chant "Tenth" before it sounds like you're trying to clear your sinuses?

Still, these performers gave us original music without contrived vocals or dancers.

My final critique: The show just had the originality of a Domino's Pepperoni.  Sure, you like it all right, but what do you have when it's done?

On a side note, for anyone who wonders if I am just some old guy who doesn't like "new music" and everything was better "when I was your age," you may be right.  But then again, the songs the Peas sampled were from my time, so look out where you're pointing.

Let me just say my dad is laughing his butt off at me from beyond the grave.  We had this same chat more than once.

Cover Songs

Tonight, I'm featuring Tom Jones, yeah, that Tom Jones, covering an old John Lee Hooker song.



A cover is a song made popular by one artist performed (or "covered") by another. Tom Jones has made a career of covering other people's work and has done well. He's sung "The Tennessee Waltz" with The Chieftains and "Kiss" with Art of Noise among others.

Cover songs can be interesting. The CD I talked about in my previous posting has something I like to do from time to time when burning a disc, it opens with Steely Dan doing their original version of "King of the World" and ends with the Joe Jackson cover, sort of like book ends.

I actually have three versions of the Jimi Hendrix classic "Little Wing" and none of them are Jimi's version. How did that happen?

Not everyone can pull it off. Michael Bolton's "When a Man Loves a Woman" is a note for note copy of Percy Sledge's original, so who cares, there was no new ground covered. I love Joe Cocker, but his version of the Squeeze song "Tempted" is misguided.

Tom Jones has the knack.

So friends, with no further ado, Enjoy!

A Reflection on Music

Microsoft did one thing right with MediaPlayer, and that's song selection. Years ago, I used their filters, not ones I created, and took a batch of songs that I preferred to listen to at night frequently and took the best and put them on compact disc.

I call this disc "Night Music." Not coincidentally, "Night Music" is the name of a Joe Jackson disc. Go figure.

Some great moody music on this disc--Steely Dan, The Pogues, Sarah McLachlan, Concrete Blonde, Fiona Apple, Living Colour (covering an Al Greene song much less)--just to name a few.

Now, I lamented a few years ago that music just wasn't doing it for me anymore. "Rhapsody makes me blue" was one of my wittier laments.

Tonight, this is a great disc.

My Super Bowl XLIV Hafltime Review

As for me, watching the rest of the game was more important than blogging about The Who. So here it is--Congrats to the Saints, Drew Brees, New Orleans, and all of Louisiana. It was a great game and a great win. Especially in the second half, it was all Saints football. Congrats!

Now, The Who...

Last year, after watching Roger sing "Love, Reign O'er Me," someone told me his pipes were not what they used to be. That same review may be valid tonight too, but may I be able to belt out "See Me, Touch Me, Heal Me" like he did tonight, much less in 20 years. Roger, Pete, Zach, and the rest of the cast, you guys rock.

Now, the set list...

All right, the Who songs used by CBS for its CSI franchise of shows are great songs. Using "Won't Get Fooled Again" and "Who Are You" are great choices for procedural detective thrillers. (Baba, not so much...) But c'mon, half of the set list consisted of songs that are being used as theme songs for CBS shows on what network? CBS.

I'm just a little skeptical of who put together the set list.

Loved the game, love The Who, the announcers didn't ruin the game for me, all in all a successful broadcast. But still, that nagging feeling... all that was missing was David Caruso coming out from the video monitor during the two-point conversion challenge, ripping off the shades, saying something off-handed and hearing Roger's scream.

Next year in Dallas? Mazel tov!

Now That's Bile!

The Rev. Fred Phelps is at it again. The man who gave the world "godhatesfags.com" is presenting his newest target, Lady Gaga. That's right, now if we believe the good Reverend, God is taking time out of his busy schedule to hate a pop singer.

Can't blame him though, according to Rev. Phelps quoting Jeremiah 3 she has "a whore's forehead and refuses to be ashamed." Well, if that isn't enough reason to hate the woman...

He declares that Lady Gaga hates her fans and at the end of his press release says "You're going to hell." I'm guessing he means the singer, not everyone who downloads the press release.

Just so that the gist of the press release is not lost on the minions of Satan, er, the people of St. Louis, the Westboro Baptist Church will picket her concert at St. Louis' Fox Theater on January 10 from 6:30 to 7:30.

Hey, be there or be square!

I don't know what to say, lest this, We are saved by faith though grace. It will matter not how many shows get picketed, or presidents (he picketed Clinton in Fayetteville in the late 90's), or soldier's funerals.

I dare say that presenting a word of hatred, particularly a prophet of God's hatred, will be not only ineffective, but counter productive to the work of God. Still, if Phelps actions can get people into scripture and into the chruch where they can hear the Word of God's grace and peace through Jesus Christ, even this work can be redeemed.

A God that can use the flawed human words of the Rev. Fred Phelps and of me; now that's the work of a powerful God.

Damn, I'm Just Getting Older

I found this item on an AOL message board on how to improve the Jay Leno Show. One of the suggestions is to have Music Director Kevin Eubanks be quiet...

I like Kevin. I do not like that Paul guy at all on Letterman. I watch Leno--always wanted a late night show early--wish all programming was early like it is in the Central Time zone! Show could use some fine tuning but is better than all that (World?) Series crapolla.

"That Paul guy?" "That Paul guy?" Oh, man, I'm not even 50 yet but I'm just getting older and that's all there is to it.

Kayne, So Subtle

This link will be disabled soon enough, but in the meantime, "Enjoy."

Alex, I'll take "The Overly Self-Involved" for $200 please.

Hooray for Beyonce's reaction both when it happened and later in the evening. It's a pity that I can't find video of Beyonce classy response to Kanye's interruption when she brought Taylor Swift back on stage later.

Love Moving Stuff...

After my mother's death, Marie and I ended up with a lovely patio set and a buffet. Of course, we couldn't fit them into the XTerra, so we had to do the U-Haul.

Don't get me wrong, it was a great truck. It was clean, had under 40,000 miles on it, was big enough to do the job, small enough not to be cumbersome. It even had FM radio and air conditioning. Believe me, I mention this because I've had worse.

One problem though, there was a ping that we could not figure out. Marie finally started screaming and I began to blot it out. What was it? Don't really know, but we told the folks who rented us the truck.

One other thing was curious though...

Near the end of the trip, the radio turned itself up. Really! The radio turned itself up. There was even a counter on the volume switch and it went up 11...12...13...before we turned the knob ourselves and got it under control. As odd as it was, it was the song that was perfect for a U-Haul moving lawn furniture through the Ozark hills and curves in southern Missouri.

The song was "Slow Ride" by Foghat. It doesn't get any better than that.

The School of Rock, but Don't Call It That

Image from the movie "School of Rock"

The University of Central Oklahoma has created the Acacemy of Contempory Music, or what is going to forever be known as "The School of Rock." According to the web page for the academy, their "focus is on building the careers of our talented students through preparation and exposure."

Thanks to Dan Krotz for sharing this with me. I will share with you the question he asked me, "Will Jack Black be the first commencement speaker?"

But of course...

Sometimes, Sharing Is Enough

Enough said.