Steve Madewell - Pedestrian Ramblings

Holding The Neck Of A Guitar!

Last night I properly held a guitar!

Last night my buddy, the amazingly talented Bill Lestock, came over with intention of sharing a captivating melody with me. Actually, it was much more than a melody, it was a multi part song. He was interested in my thoughts and possible lyrical contribution to the work. He played it through twice, and then we captured a video performance.

We talked about Bill’s thoughts and mental images for the song and had a really great discussion. I always enjoy finding out what images are in the mind of an artist when a song comes to them. And this is a great song.

Afterwards, I tried to entertain Bill with a few of my tunes. I was playing my resonator guitar on my lap and after a while I had to take a rest. My fingers go numb from the Velcro tape holding the slide to my hand. Billy asked me if I could play anything on a standard guitar. Without thinking about it, I picked up my resonator guitar to illustrate that I still was unable to hold a guitar properly. My left shoulder, arm, wrist and palm were traumatized so severely from my accident that whenever I had tried to hold a guitar in a normal position, I couldn’t. I simply could not imagine being able to get my hand to reach and bend like that. It seemed that my entire arm had shrunk, and my wrist would never be able to flex like it needed to.

Much to my surprise, I felt the neck of my resonator guitar slide nicely into the palm of my left hand. I was dumbfounded. For the first time in over ten months, I could feel a guitar neck in the palm of my hand. I told Bill that I could not do this last week. I know, because I tried. This entire recovery process is a mental trip. I can’t help but wonder as profound an advancement like this is, will it be the last?

Don’t ask about making chords, or even playing single notes, but I’ll take each step for what it is.

I’ll let this old mule haul the blues away!

General Update

Howdy! So its been a while since I did a general “health/recovery” update. I’m doing remarkably well all things considered. Mobility in my fingers continues to improve, but good Lord it is a long slow process. I have on going stretching and massage for my hand, TENS electro therapy and a host of items to touch, pickup and move. My shoulder is gradually getting better, but that also is excruciatingly slow. I have a regime of shoulder stretches, some actually use ropes and pulleys! Big fun and to quote not one, but all three of my crack doctors “Wow you have got to bust that shoulder loose!”.

No kidding!

A frozen shoulder is a big deal, and takes a long time to recover. And it hurts too, but nothing like the brachial plexus pain. That stuff is other worldly! I went to my pain doc this week because the nerve pain has returned, and at times, it is quite severe. He wrote another script, this time for for Cymbalta but I would prefer to not layer yet another drug on the Lyrica and extra strength Tylenol I’m taking. I made an appointment with an acupuncturist. Unfortunately, that’s not until mid June! We’ll see what happens, but in the meantime I will keep slogging along.

I’ve been trying to walk 5000 steps or more a day in addition to keeping up with my hand and shoulder exersizes. As far as work around the house, my hand issue gets really frustrating and is more mentally debilitating than physically limiting. Generally I can figure out how to get things done, its just getting over that little mental speed bump! When we had the last big snows, my snow thrower and my tractor had some issues and I was able to get them resolved regardless of single digit temps and a gimpy hand… so I can do what I need to, when I need to!

Music

I’m continuing to work on my lap slide playing. Thanks to my friend Andy Cohen, I learned this: ORthograde=how you normally hold a guitar rather than lap-o-grade. I am practicing Lap-o-grade!

I have a live stream coming up June 6th I believe with Mike Ward and Joy Zimmerman. They are both delightful people and great songwriters, so stay tune. Also, to celebrate the anniversary of my wreck, I’m having a “do” at Kosecik’s Winery. This was the place I was heading when the fateful event occurred. I’ll try attaching a link here to one of my new tunes.

Hope to see you soon!

Old Dude-isms

“Old Dude-isms”

I’ve reached a new epoch in my life, trying to prevent squirrels from eating the bird seed. This used to be a serious challenge for my dad. I don’t want to relate the incredible lengths he went to devise various “foils” for his adversaries, but I will say on a couple occasions my mom would say “Clarence get out there and take that down! Why that might hurt one of our great grand babies!” And reluctantly he would go remove whatever ingenious rig he had assembled to thwart the local squirrel community. Somewhere I have a picture of my mom staring at my dad, who is staring out the kitchen window pondering the battlefield.

I haven’t fallen that deeply into the crevasse but I certainly appreciate the depth. We have a tube feeder handing from the soffit of our sunroom. I pull the seed feeders down at the end of April and put them back up in November. I normally get to about the end of December before the squirrels figure out they can come across the roof and dangle off of the drip edge then lower themselves down to a smorgasbord of seeds, conveniently dispense through these nice size holes in a plastic tube.

Due to my convalescence, I’ve been spending a lot of time in a recliner in the sunroom, being driven crazy by squirrels, lowering themselves down to the feeder to chow down on our birdseed. It probably wouldn’t bother me if they ate a little bit and left, but they park themselves there and will eat nonstop for five minutes if you don’t interrupt them. so I came up with a very simple notion that I would put a monofilament loop connecting the birdfeeder to the middle hook in the facia board of the soffit. I made the assumption that the squirrels would not be able to grip the mono filament and I would have a preventative barrier between the seeds and squirrels.

It worked for 26 hours.

The big debate is this a challenge or should I walk away? I don’t know.

What I do know is I have to be careful or I will slip over the edge of a continuous slide into old dude-isms. I’m already a wreck about constantly wearing sweatpants and a down sweater.

Re-engaging With Making Music

Consumed With Attaching A Side

When the crash occurred, I was on my way to a gig. I have been a performing musician for a long time, lets say, over 50 years, and I have went through several music iterations. I look back with fond memories of my early junior high and high school musical endeavors, and ultimately finding my way into a band that was actually an amazing collection of talented players. We called ourselves Wissinger’s Palace Magical Band. The three horn players were in the marching band and the high school choir, along with the bass player and the keyboard player. The seniors in the band conscripted me and our drummer into the choir. With six of seven in the choir we learned how sing together. We had diverse musical interests and did everything from Crosby, Stills, & Nash, to Chicago, to Grand Funk Railroad.

For a small agricultural school, we had a diverse music community with a marching band, a stage band, a choir, a symphonic choir, and even a barbershop quartet. There was also an interdenominational community youth musical group. Ultimately, I became involved in all of those except marching band.

I was a lost soul when five of my band mates graduated and went to college. I was offered a slot in a touring rock band, but at 17, my parents said “no way”. So for three years, I formed and performed with a myriad of rock bands.

When I went to college, I began performing with an acoustic guitar, and with only a few exceptions, that became my primary instrument. Music became a substantial part of my income for several years after leaving college. In addition to buying a lot of groceries, music helped me acquire many memories during those crazy times.

As my park career progressed, the recreation and stress relieve provided by music became much more important than the money. Being a musical “weekend warrior” served me well for twenty-five years or more. When my children started leaving high school, I began writing songs again.

I recorded my first solo full length record in 2004, and have recorded three more since. When I retired from the public sector in 2016, I was in the top tier of park professionals in Ohio. I had several people question what ‘I was doing but I wanted to redirect more focus toward music and artistic expression while I had reasonable energy and skills.

For the past few years, I’ve been plugging into music on a different level, learning the ins and outs of the folk music community, including self-promoted touring, radio, internet, and other forms of digital distribution. I have also been engaged in the process of building a series of connections for community concerts, festivals, and house concerts. My intentions were to scale back my local performances and focus more on recording and performing at listening venues.

Approximately one hour before the crash, I was talking to a colleague in the UK about more aggressively pursuing this transition.

I remember making the decision to transfer my equipment from my 2005 Ford F150 into the 2004 Toyota RAV4 that I referred to as my summer gig car. I would load my gear in the gig car and simply leave it in there for the summer. That day the car had a mechanical failure as I was merging onto Interstate 90 resulting in a broadside collision with a semi truck.

I could share countless observations and stories about getting through the next few months, the encounters with medical staff, the exquisite pain, ongoing sounds and interactions in the hospitals and the incredible compassion that I experienced.

Speaking of compassion, the week I got out of the hospital, about 45 of my musical friends performed at a gathering in my honor for a full house at the Beachland Ballroom. It was incredibly touching. Since then I have had several people offer to learn to my tunes and accompany me if I wanted to do a gig. I have also had several venues, including house concert hosts, reach out to say I was welcome to perform there in any capacity.

I am just wasn’t ready to do that.

I did ask one musician friend for help to move all of my guitars from my barn studio into my basement. I really didn’t wanna look at them. I also decided that I was going sell my PA gear. After all these years, I assembled what was the best rig I had ever owned. It was light weight, compact, modular and incredibly flexible. It was very high-end components and was capable of comfortably doing a 300-500 person show.

That was painful.

Several good friends caught word of this, and they reached out to me to say, “Do not sell any instruments!” And I promised everyone of them I would not do that.

When I got out of the hospital the only instruments I could play, or was interested in playing, were my Tibetan Singing Bowls. I would occasionally walk through the house and just tap one of the five of them. Sometimes I would pick one up and either hold it in my lap or let it rest on my bad hand. Occasionally I would coax out that magical sound by rubbing the mallet around the rim. I was became so enamored with them I decided I would look up their pitch and determine if they had associated healing frequencies.

And that was about the extent of my engagement with making music for several months. For the first time in 55 years, I did not have calluses on my fingers. My nine-year-old grandson asked me about finishing a song that we started to record together, and I told him that we would just have to wait and see if that would happen. He said: “Pa music is a part of your life”.

Kids say the darnedest things. Or maybe the most profound things.

Of course, I was concerned about what recovery would look like for me. I had one doctor early on who was very honest with me. He was also guitar player, and he said, “I’m sure you’ll play guitar again, but there’s no way you’re going to play at the same level you once did.” It was hard to hear, but I really appreciated that.

It was a hard reset button.

He also did something else that I am thankful for. Being a guitar player and realizing the level that I was writing and performing at, he did some research and referred me to an occupational therapist who works with musicians.

Sharilee is both a compassionate and extremely competent professional. The first time I met her, she looked at me and said, “How are you doing?” and for whatever reason, I got very emotional.

I don’t know why that happened, but there sat a lady who certainly understood the ramifications of my physical injuries, but was looking through that and wondering, how I was doing as a musician who could no longer play? She took me into a private office where I regained my composure and we began to go through the process of assessing my limitations.

From early on in our therapy, she began encouraging me to get out a guitar, put my fingers on the strings, and make “sounds”. She said there’s something that happens with you musician types, your brain gets engaged and starts pulling you along.

I had one guitar damaged in the accident, a relatively inexpensive resonator guitar. These are often used for slide guitar playing. It had a broken neck. My son had taken it to one of the best guitar specialists in northeastern Ohio, Ken Lesko. I had messaged Kenny and said I understand you have one of my guitars? When he responded, he told me that after reading the extent of my injuries, he said he figured that slide guitar playing was going to become a more important component of my show. With a little luck he thought he could fix it and would do that for me at no cost. A few weeks after that conversation, he messaged me and told me it was repaired, and he wanted to know if I wanted him to refinish the neck. He said that when he did, no one would ever be able to tell it was broken. I told Kenny “No way! You leave the scar there. We went through that wreck together and I’m gonna call that guitar Lazarus.”

Sharilee got me thinking about that conversation with Kenny. “I figure that slide guitar playing…” and even though my left hand could not grip anything, I began to think about attaching a guitar slide to my hand with Velcro. I thought I might be able to play the guitar on my lap like a “Dobro”. So I started trying to fabricate some method of attaching a bottleneck to my left hand. My favorite slide is one I actually busted off of a wine bottle and that’s the one I started working with first.

I told Sharilee what I was up to at one of our regular therapy sessions, and she was insistent that I bring the slide in the next time so she could see it. I made the mistake of bringing my favorite, the one that I had broken off at a gig, behind a club on a dumpster. It still had jagged edges, but they weren’t sharp.

That was a mistake.

She clearly did not want me using that on my left hand! But other than that initial reaction, she was very supportive of what I was trying to do and began making suggestions for additional techniques to attach the slide to my hand. And we spent a little time working on this for a few weeks.

Now am I ready to pass myself off as an accomplished bottle next slide player? No!

But I have been engaged in trying to find the best way to attach a slide to my hand. I’ve also been engaged in exploring alternative tuning on my resonator guitar. As you might suspect, I have been engaged with relearning blues tunes I have not played in 25 years or more, and most importantly, I’ve started to write songs again.

Slide guitar playing is a very physical activity, requiring a sensitive touch, string dampening with both hands, and a fair amount of motion with the left arm.

Has this been good for me? Certainly! I’ve been engaged with making music.

In light of the ongoing frustration with the extent of my injuries and the slow rate of my recovery, it’s wonderful to have a sense of hope and optimism.

It’s wonderful to once again have a sense that I have things to share with my musical community, my fans and friends. And of course those members of my family that have to endure my noise making for all these years.

And it’s also nice to be able to share a little bit of this my incredible medical team, all of the doctors and all of my therapist, who not only took an interest in my condition, but also who took an interest in me.

Lake Erie Folk Fest 2026 the NEO Folk Music Scene

Pedestrian Ramblings February 26

My recent ramblings found me wandering around the Case Western Reserve University parking garage looking for my Honda CRV.

I was leaving the Lake Erie Folk Festival and was overwhelmed by the interactions, conversation, music, and energy of the event. In retrospect, I was foolish for leaving early, and later regretted not staying for the “primary” evening performances. That being said, I had reached my stimulation capacity and needed to disengage, contemplate, and digest.

With my head swimming, I couldn’t remember where I had parked, so I used the time-honored trick of pushing the lock button on my key fob while looking for the flashing taillights of my car.

“Ah, there it is, right where I parked it”.

This was the tenth year for the festival, and by all accounts, and my observation, the event is flourishing. I have attended the festival several times since it began, both as a performer and attendee. I left each time with my head full of musical and conversational stimulation. This time was no exception.

I had just facilitated a panel discussion on the Cleveland folk music scene between 1962 and 1972, which was followed by a then-and-now discussion. A compare and contrast, if you will. The LEFF board had decided this topic warranted a double session, so I had a ninety-minute time slot to fill. The discussion touched on performers, venues, promoters, and champions of folk music.

There was a very significant club in Cleveland’s folk music history called La Cave. It was right down the road from Farragher’s, another significant folk club. La Cave was open for about ten years, but in that brief time, an astounding number of major performers appeared there. It was truly a remarkable place at a remarkable time.

One of the panel members, Steve Traina wrote a book on La Cave, and he was an obvious selection for the panel. He graciously gave his time, expertise, and credibility to the discussion.

Another panel member, David Krauss, was in a band called “Tiny Alice” that performed at La Cave. They also had a recording contract with a label. They toured the US and Canada. In addition to being a great musician, he could offer firsthand observations and happens to be an eloquent speaker.

Cindy Barber was sitting next to David, and she has been incredibly instrumental in the Cleveland contemporary music scene. She has a long history of involvement in folk music. Cindy owns the Beachland Ballroom as well as another lovely venue, the Treelawn. Cindy became involved in the music community in the mid-70s, and she has been a champion of the music and arts community. She is especially known for her efforts to cultivate and assist performing artists.

Rounding out the panel was Brent Kirby, a highly respected, established musical artist. Brent is an incredible songwriter with a number of musical outlets, including the New Soft Shoe and the Jack Fords. The New Soft Shoe pays homage to the remarkable life and talent of Gram Parsons. He also hosts a singer-songwriter evening called the 10 x 3, where he selects 10 songwriters to perform three original songs every month. He has worked closely with Cindy on Cleveland Rocks, a not-for-profit committed to helping local musicians and artisans.

This was a high-powered group of people, and I was very privileged to be sitting there with them.

I’ve had enough experience with these things to know there was a high probability the discussion would wander, and I saw my role as a steward, coaxing the dialogue toward a meaningful destination. I had prepared a general outline, and surprisingly, in a loose fashion, we adhered to it.

I believe it was a successful discussion.

I had interviewed several dozen musicians and folk DJs in preparing for the presentation. I wanted to have an understanding of this time period in northeastern Ohio, and I wanted to ask insightful and provocative questions. I had also researched and prepared a playlist of songs from Phil Ochs, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Bob Gibson, and Tiny Alice for the presentation. My only regret was not taking the time to play a few of those tunes, but we really didn't have any downtime.

A photo of Phil Ochs

In addition to discussing performers and venues, we talked about the causes that motivated or provided subject material for the contemporary songwriters of this time period. The Vietnam War was the primary motivator for many, followed by civil rights and then the environment. Of course, there were many seminal events that occurred during this ten-year period, including the escalation of the US involvement in Vietnam, political assassinations, the shootings at Kent State University, and the burning of the Cuyahoga River.

My intention was to discuss this ten-year period for about forty-five minutes, then take an intermission. After we reassembled, my thought was to fast-forward to today and discuss the current conditions for folk musicians.

There is an old saying about the best laid plans… Well, we never took a break. Consequently, there wasn’t a reason to play any music, nor look at images from Steve Traina’s book.

After about an hour and ten minutes, I decided to shift gears, and we began talking about the world of folk music in NEO today.

Does NEO Ohio have a musical identity? If so, what is it? There is clearly a folk musical heritage and a legacy here in the greater Cleveland region, but is there a way to create an identity that embraces the incredibly diverse folk music scene that exists here?

The flow of the conversation included what has changed in the folk music business, the causes inspiring folk musicians, and messages that engage their audiences.

We have a remarkable number of venues. Many more than 50 years ago! And there are more performers and musical outlets. And any decent cell phone can be used as a streaming device or a video camera. There are also dozens of first-rate, professional recording studios available to local artists. Sixty years ago, there were a couple of major studio options for recording.

Now, in addition to studios, there are incredibly affordable, powerful, computer-based recording programs or Apps, suitable for home or live performance use.

Streaming services are the most popular musical distribution outlets, but in recent years, vinyl records have made a substantial comeback. Digital downloads appear to be the future, while the future of compact discs is uncertain. What this means for the folk artist is a widely debated topic.

We did not talk about the amazing advances in live performance gear, but these are real factors with regard to fidelity, size, portability, and volume of current PA systems.

Unfortunately, one thing that has not changed are the social injustices that still plague humanity today.

While our country is not currently engaged in a foreign conflict like the Vietnam War, we have captured and removed the president of a foreign nation. We have also targeted and destroyed a number of small vessels in international waters from that same country, killing well over a hundred citizens.

Even more concerning is the rabid approach our nation has adopted toward immigrants. Operating under the banner of addressing illegal aliens, dozens and dozens of stories have emerged about wrongful detention of US citizens, or detainment and deportation of persons involved in the final steps of securing US citizenship.

We have also seen two people shot and killed in Minneapolis.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, or should I say, back at the country club, executive orders are being issued that circumvent environmental legislation adopted over 50 years ago. Public education and the scientific process is literally under attack, and adopted health care standards are being rescinded.

It was increasingly apparent during our conversation that in today's world, we may not have a Vietnam, a burning river, Jim Crow laws, or the Kent State shootings, but contemporary folk singers have a great deal to work with.

After a solid two hours, our panel discussion concluded, and we all went our separate ways. As we did, I am sure that the folk who attended and participated had a mindfull of ideas and concerns about the importance of folk songs in these turbulent times.

And we left with the uncertainty of what to do next...

Rambling Along And The Lake Erie Folk Festival

First, a few recovery updates for those interested.

I continue to have occupational therapy sessions with an incredible provider who happens to sing with the Cleveland Orchestra Choir. Consequently, she is very tuned in to the quirks in the needs of musicians. She is delightful, inspiring, and innovative. I owe this incredible pairing to Cleveland Clinic’s Dr. Brandon King, a product of a local school system. His mom used to work for Lake Metroparks. Small world, right?

He was an attending physician at the rehabilitation hospital. He is also a guitarist and worked to find an occupational therapist familiar with the needs of musicians.

I feel like I hit the jackpot with Sharilee. Between the two of us, we are coming up with all sorts of exercises and techniques to help my hand and fingers recover.

She will be trekking off to sing with the Orchestra at Carnegie Hall next week. What? How cool is that!

Some of my therapy gizmos…

Remember, in past posts, I have stated I couldn’t pick up a set of car keys. It was a pretty big deal last week when I picked up an apple. Now I’m stacking fruit and other objects as part of my at-home therapy sessions.

Also, I have switched physical therapists. FYI my occupational therapist deals with my hand, my physical therapist deals with my arm and shoulder, and my shoulder is partially frozen. My new PT, Leigh, is great! During our first assessment interview, she asked me if I had thought about getting a dulcimer. I think we will do just fine!

This week, I also had an appointment with my hand doc, and he was pleased with my progress and very encouraging.

On another recovery note of sorts, Shorty made a guest appearance this morning and prepared bacon, eggs, and hash browns for breakfast!

Now on to the other issues at hand, small pun intended.

Pre-accident, one of the board members for the North East Ohio Heritage Music Association (NEOHMA) asked me if I would be interested in preparing a presentation for the upcoming Lake Erie Folk Festival on Cleveland‘s contribution to the 1960-70s folk music revival. I think this was inspired by “A Complete Unknown”. I was very flattered, but quickly pointed out that I’m not quite that old and I grew up in southwestern Ohio. He seemed to think I was old enough.

I offered to put something together and facilitate a panel discussion if that would be acceptable. The following week, on a ramble with my good buddy Alex Bevan, we talked about the music scene during the late 60’s and early 70s in Cleveland. We discussed the items that should be touched on in such a presentation, including musicians, venues, and promoters.

Now let’s fast-forward six months. I got an email asking if I was still interested in doing that panel presentation. Needless to say, without the rigors of my performance schedule, I do have the time. I figured this would also provide a great opportunity to educate myself about the early folk music scene in NEO.

I put together a tentative outline and sent it to the folks in charge of the festival. They decided that it warranted a double session with a portion devoted to the past, followed by a discussion of present conditions in Cleveland. Consequently, I have been researching the history of the Cleveland folk music scene, specifically, performers, venues, promoters, and other “hosts”.

The book “La Cave” has been a great resource!

As I delved into this research, thoughts and conversations about current conditions kept recurring. Does Cleveland have a folk music identity? I mean, there are lots of venues, some excellent players, but is there something that comes to mind when a person discusses folk music in Cleveland?

To compare and contrast current conditions with what once was, I started to build an informal inventory of the attitudes and approaches of contemporary local folk musicians. Perhaps opportunities to enhance their efforts will become obvious and be helpful toward creating, or restoring, a Cleveland identity as a folk music hub.

I have really enjoyed talking about this with several of my NEO music buddies, and I also think I have made a few new friends along the way.

The Lake Erie Folk Festival is Feb. 14th, and will be held at Case Western Reserve University.

Kristine Jackson Providing Hope and Motivation, Starting Over

So last night, I got my motivated self together and rambled out to Harpersfield Winery. The motivator was getting to listen to Kristine Jackson’s last Fireside Set.

I’m so glad I did!

On two occasions, before my accident, I thought I would get a chance to hear her play. But that didn't happen. Once at the Urban Winery, when we were both invited to do a songwriter in the round, and the other at Driftwood Point when she was scheduled to play after my Shorty’s Diner brunch show.

Long story short, neither happened, but I did cover half of the afternoon show with her uncle Jack at the Driftwood. Several KJ fans were there, and as I was leaving, one fellow said, “Dude, I don't know why you aren’t working with Kristine? I think you two would sound great together.”

After hearing her last night, I appreciate what a great compliment that was.

So many people have told me how wonderful she is as a person, musician, and creative force, and they were right.

Last night was the first time in seven months that I went out just to listen to some live music. While it wasn’t quite as structured as a house concert, Harpersfield has a pretty good listening vibe. I mean, it is a winery after all, but no one in the audience was obnoxiously loud, and there were several occasions where everyone was listening to the music. Kristine mixed it up nicely, floating back and forth between guitar and ukulele, mixing cover and original songs. The lady can whistle, too. Of particular delight for me was when she debuted her wooden flute. This reminded me of an old friend and many encounters I have had with native people over the years.

It may be a bit premature, but I am thinking about future performances. Experiences like last night surely help with the motivation. It also helps when I get emails asking about my availability for shows months in advance.

I honestly don't know what my recovery will look like and when it will “plateau,” but experiences like last night surely help by fueling hope and motivation.

Unanticipated Gifts

My car crash left multiple casualties. Beyond the broken bones, damaged nerves, cancelled gigs, totaled car, a broken guitar neck, a missing Fishman loudbox mini amplifier, and one missing earbud, I lost two pairs of glasses. One set was normal, progressive lens glasses, and the other was dark mirrored sunglasses. I loved the sunglasses and wore them to every gig.

As I try to reassemble a semblance of normality in my life, I find that I am going through a progression of sorts. First off is dealing with the reality of my physical and physiological condition. I have severe functional limitations with my left arm and hand. OK, there is therapy and time, and we will see what recovers. Check!

Next is the nagging reality of medical appointments, bills, insurance, etc. It’s part of the new normal. Ongoing, check!

Figuring out creative outlets, be it in the form of new musical expressions, writing, or other social engagements. Got to figure that out too. Ongoing, check.

It seemed that another good thing to do and check off the list would be to get an eye exam and replace my glasses.

So I did just that.

I’ve found I had very little change in my vision, so my prescription was virtually unchanged. My distant vision actually gotten a little better? Go Figure! In the process of picking out new frames, I made a comment to the technician that I had several old pairs of glasses at home that were scratched up or damaged. She said they might be able to simply change the lenses and suggested I bring them in.

I thought, why not?

When I got the call, my new glasses were in, I made a swoop around the house and barn and gathered up several pairs of old glasses. I would find out if the frames were still usable and if the lens could be upgraded.

On a whim, I picked up a pair of sunglasses that I have had for a long time. You see, years ago, I had left them on the seat of the car, and my brother Jeff sat on them. He inadvertently broke one of the lenses.

He felt awful, and I tried to reassure him that it was no big deal. Jeff and I kinda had a sunglasses thing going on anyway. We played an outdoor show a few years prior in Greenville, and some guy was talking to us at the end of our performance. I couldn’t get away from him, and it was getting dark. Long story short, between Jeff’s visual impairment and the growing darkness, we got a jammed up during our load out. I lost a very expensive pair of Costa sunglasses, and we couldn’t find a bag of Jeff’s miscellaneous stage accouterments. Fast forward a few years, and we had another sunglasses casualty.

For whatever reason, I kept the pair Jeff sat on.

The following year, after decades of health challenges, Jeff passed away. I just kept them around as a reminder of his talent, easy presence, and kind nature. He was a gift.

The glasses have spent the past several years on the desk by my computer, and more than once, I have picked them up and wondered why I was keeping them. Now I found myself with them at the Costco Optical department as the technician casually said I can fix these right now.

After waiting for a few minutes, she reappeared and set the glasses down in front of me. I managed to say thank you before I got choked up. MJ came to the rescue and explained that I had a sentimental attachment to them.

Sometimes the best Christmas presents are unanticipated.

Mid Dec update 2025

Physiological update

Have you heard the one about the three neurosurgeons walking into a bar? Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime! I will say three neurosurgeons had Mary Jo and I cracking up last week.

Made me think of the countless jokes I’ve heard over the years about lead guitar players.

Speaking of the music front, I have developed a way to attach a bottle neck to my hand using Velcro and fabric tape. I can play around some slide guitar tunes.

I am uniquely privileged having friends scattered about the country. When I get inquiries from several people over the course of a week or so I know it’s time for me to post an update on my recovery progress. I had a lovely conversation with my buddy Al Bonnis who currently lives in Tennessee, Mark and Deb checked in from Arizona, had a little email exchange with Mike Ward in Michigan, Deb in Pennsylvania and Rick Ruskin in the Pacific Northwest. I take these inquiries as a general indicator that it’s time for me to provide an update, and I do appreciate the well wishes.

So here it is:

Basically, my neurology team are telling me that my finger functions exceed what my recent EMG test would indicate I can do. So that’s a good thing, however what my fingers can do are relatively minor, small motions. But I can move all of my fingers and my thumb.

By the way, the EMG test is a fascinating thing. It involves putting a needle in muscles and then shooting an electrical current through that muscle. Somehow the machine they use has the ability to measure variations in the current, depending on the responsiveness of this muscle.

It is a fascinating process, but as you might imagine, it hurts.

I still have constant pain in my ring finger and my little finger. It basically starts at my elbow and continues down to the tip of those digits. Very similar to the feeling you get when you really whack the “crazy bone” in your elbow! Sometimes it’s just tingly, sometimes it’s a searing pain. Sometimes it feels like needles being pushed into the tips of my fingers, up into my palm and into my wrist. Which hurts a lot thankfully, that is occurring less and less!

My little finger is basically numb. My ring finger has sensation but it’s really weird how it registers touch. And to use my consistent measure of independence in progress I still can’t pick up a set of keys with my left hand.

As the narcotic fog continues to lift, I’m becoming increasingly aware of other limitations and shortcomings. For example, I noticed this week that the flexibility of my left wrist is so limited I can not hold the guitar properly. So I’ve got a little work to do there. However, I am gaining mobility in my shoulder. I sincerely appreciate the fact that this is a big floating joint that’s capable of performing many different functions and has an incredible range of motion. And mine is partially frozen.

I got all kinds of exercises to do for both my hand and my shoulder with all kinds of apparatus to go with it. My hand therapist is very encouraging and very supportive of my explorations to find various ways to engage the muscles, joints and nerves of my left hand. She gets really excited when I come up with methods to move or stretch my fingers, she listens intently, offers suggestions, and insists that I do certain exercises.

My shoulder therapist is a different story. She is strictly at paint by numbers kind of person. She wouldn’t care if I was getting personal attention from a master yoga instructor. Honest to God I could come up with a revolutionary approach to shoulder therapy and I don’t think she would give any consideration at all. And as you might imagine, I am not, nor never have been a paint by number is kind of guy!

But that being said, I am making progress on range of motion on my shoulder and that’s what counts.

It is all slow but steady.

My Big Toe Spoke To Me, And I Listened

I am thankful for my big toe. It sort of talks to me.

It doesn't really say much, but it still conveys an important and powerful message. It has a big black nail as a significant reminder of the crash which was five months ago. My toe reminds me of where I was and how I have recovered, and to be patient.

I have smashed a toe before, even broken one a couple times. I recall this is a painful experience, but I have absolutely no recollection of the pain that must have accompanied this injury. So what has happened in five months and why wouldn't I remember a sore toe?

Well, first lets get grounded in a little reality.

Just as a recap, in addition to a bruised toe, I also had a fracture on my right ankle that was relatively insignificant in the whole scheme of things. I had a half a dozen broken ribs and both lungs were collapsed. I was on a ventilator for a few days. I had four fractures in my pelvis, a broken sternum, clavicle, and collarbone. I also had a small brain bleed.

So my big toe must have been drowned out in the chorus of pain, and the brain bleed was not significant at the time of the accident. Of course two months later, the hematoma wasn't absorbed, it shifted and required a craniotomy. (I might have aggravated that by trying to start a wood splitter. Oops!)

The broken bones were all a collective agony especially the first couple of weeks in the hospital, first at the UH Level 1 Trauma Center, then a step down, and then a transfer to the Cleveland Clinic rehab facility. I spent nearly a month in the hospital. .

I do have reasonably good core strength and when I was fortunate enough to get a nurse or aid that I could reason with, I could often plank my body up high enough to change sheets and that sort if thing. About two weeks into my stay, I had a couple of folks come in to check for bed sores and insisted that I roll over. Thus resulted in a massive wave of pain from all my broken bones. And in the rehab facility, they insisted that I go to group therapy sessions, which required a lot of sitting in chairs. This resulted in a tremendous about of shoulder pain, and I am convinced it was the break in my collarbone separating. My last two ex-rays show that that break is finally stitching up, but its way out of alignment. I attribute this to sitting upright too long.

And that, for the most part, was all of the pain I experienced from my broken bones, which appears to be behind me. Now, let me tell about the real pain.

I have screwed myself up several times over the years, broke bones, partially torn tendons, had surgeries, a chainsaw accident, but I have never experienced the exquisite pain like that generated by this brachial plexus injury.

First off, it has varied wildly in feeling and intensity. Sometimes it could feel like a mass of needles being driven into my hand and fingers, or a spot of tingling pain that kept building until it evolved to a blinding ball of pain that would move through my arm and into my body. Occasionally, for a while I would have shooting pain that felt like it was beyond my fingers. Yep, outside of my body!

I am happy to say a great deal of that has subsided, and I am not experiencing waves of pain that literally made me fearful of falling. What I am now dealing is a low to mid grade constant pain that, for the most part, I can function with as I focus on continuing to regaining nerve function, joint movement and rebuild muscle.

I experienced a severe poly trauma and the nerve recovery is the slowest of all. Consequently this is a three way race with the recovery of nerve function, which is sophisticated and slow, over coming muscle loss, and after five months of inactivity, this is astounding. (I look at the base of my thumb and forearm and can see it), and then the issue of joint freeze. My left hand was as stiff as a plank, and my arm was virtually glued to my side when I left the hospital. Consequently, I have to free up my shoulder, fingers, thumb and hand. This hurts.

The physical and occupational therapist are focused on mobility and regaining strength. My job is to go through all of my exercises. The shoulder stuff hurts the most. Big muscles, big frozen and complicated joint, and big pain busting it loose.

The hand is another issue entirely. Its hard to move finger joints when there is no nerve command telling them to flex. So this requires manual manipulation. While am doing my hand routines I have to mindfully pay attention to the nerve function. I am literally relearning how to move my fingers! This is wild. The results are so subtle, but there is measurable progress!

I am doing it!

So the big black bruise under my toenail is still there and it reminds me to be patient. If the recovery of smashed toe takes months, why the hell would I expect something as complicated as significant nerve trauma to be faster?

I can walk, and I am slowly getting to take reasonable rambles. I can talk and see, and I have read more books in the past few months than I have in years. I can feel, hear and I have listened to a lot of music. After four months, I am off of narcotic pain medicine, so I can drive. My appetite and stomach chemistry are getting back to normal and, I am slowly getting finger movement.

Anyway you look at the course of events, it’s remarkable I am even typing this. I thought about offering grace at our Thanksgiving meal but I knew I would be overwhelmed with emotion. So many family, friends, medical professionals, musicians and my community have done so much. I am, and will be forever grateful.

My oldest daughter provided a simple and comprehensive offering before our meal.

My toe reminds me of where I was and how I have recovered, and to be patient.

What a great message.