As I massage Rebecca yesterday, I realize that I will never get a shoulder massage from Lev again, which was one of my favorite things. He once negotiated a deal where I would do his dish load while he massaged my shoulders the whole time. We were both pleased with the deal. He was actually pondering whether a career in physical therapy would be good for him. I was fond of the idea, since he liked working with people and enjoyed physical contact. He later got excited about acupuncture. Lev in the healing arts made sense.
Yesterday I had an amazing chance encounter. I tried to set up a lunch meeting with a co-worker and utterly failed to negotiate the labyrinth of communication tools in order to do so. In desperation I jumped off 99 and headed to Paseo, where at least my lunch alone would be tasty. Packed with customers, I hovered near a table to swoop in for a seat. As I did so, another man did the same. But instead of being awkward, he looked me right in the eye and asked if he could join me. I thought that he was either a very cool guy or a gay man trying to hit on me. I assumed the former, cautiously.
He started to tell me why he was there. He lived 3 blocks away, but they were working on his house and he was tired of the dust and the noise. He asked where I lived and was surprised I lived up north. As a young man in the 70s he had worked in the forest service near Rockport and Concrete, so he knew Skagit Valley well. He had moved to Seattle to go to medical school at UW, and then stayed because be liked the town and liked seeing music. I told him I was in Massy Ferguson, and he was delighted because he had seen us with "Jay" (Son Volt) and had even grabbed Ethan to tell us how much he enjoyed the set. Sweet!
He then told me he had just seen Swell Season, with Glen Hansard, at the No Depression festival. I was excited, because Glen was my songwriting hero. He actually knew Glen, and was even going to have him over for Thanksgiving. How did he know Glen? Turns out that he decided long ago to provided free medical care for any musician, regardless of income level. This was his way of giving back. Amazing! He had met tons of musicians, some of them rich and famous. I found this inspiring.
The talk continued into how one makes life choices like that. I admitted that I was at a crossroads myself, and he said that seemed obvious. I then decided to tell him why. He was devastated, both as a sympathetic human and as a concerned doctor. He peppered me for details, and then declared his intent to help me get to the bottom of this. He wanted all the docs he could get, including ambulance and hospital records. Hepromised to read the autopsy report and help me decode it. Incredible. What a chance encounter!
