Rick is a 62-year-old man who was diagnosed with ALS in January 2007. Currently a resident of Southwest Florida, he has lived in four other metropolitan areas, but greater Chicagoland will always be “home.” Rick is a degreed engineer, spending his career in the medical device industry. He’s had the good fortune of extensive travel throughout the United States, Europe, Asia, and the Caribbean. He writes, in part, to be an ALS advocate. Additionally, it is his hope that his output will help dispel the myth that technical folk and digestible prose aren’t mutually exclusive.
“In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” Last week, my pastor humorously suggested I should challenge folks to put forth songs or lyrics they believed I wouldn’t be able to kick-start a column with. He further suggested the above mentioned track by Iron Butterfly would be such a stumper. I respectfully submit that he…
“I been one poor correspondent, and I been too, too hard to find But it doesn’t mean you ain’t been on my mind.” In retrospect, I fear that much of my life has resembled that stanza from the band America’s second Billboard No. 1…
“You hold the key to love and fear All in your trembling hand Just one key unlocks them both It’s there at your command Come on people now Smile on your brother Everybody get together…
“All our times have come Here but now they’re gone Seasons don’t fear the reaper Nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain We can be like they are.” I was 18 years old when the band Blue Oyster Cult released the song “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper.” Coinciding…
“All the Bush League batters Are left to die on the diamond In the stands the home crowd scatters For the turnstiles.” Twice in my post-ALS life, Neil Young’s song “For the Turnstiles” has struck me smack dab in the center of my forehead. As the dust finally settled…
“Well I don’t know why I came here tonight, I’ve got the feeling that something ain’t right. I’m so scared in case I fall off my chair, And I’m wondering how I’ll get down the stairs. Clowns to the left of me! Jokers to the right! Here I am stuck…
“As I was walking down the street one dark and dreary day, I came upon a billboard, much to my dismay. The billboard was all tattered from the storm the night before. The wind and rain had done their work, and this is what it bore: ‘Drink Coca-Cola cigarettes, smoke…
“You say you got a real solution, Well, you know, We’d all love to see the plan. You ask me for a contribution, Well, you know, We’re all doing what we can.” John Lennon’s lyrics from the song “Revolution” by the Beatles capture some of my concerns regarding the…
“And so castles made of sand Fall into the sea eventually.” — Jimi Hendrix From time to time, given my predilection for quoting songs in my columns, I’m asked whether a song triggers content, or if it’s subject matter in search of lyrics. The answer is, circumstantially, either. On…
“What you need, my son Is a holiday in Cambodia Where people dress in black.” Those lyrics from the song “Holiday in Cambodia” by the punk rock band Dead Kennedys illustrate how counterintuitive any public holiday display may appear. Without knowing the context, all-black attire may seem odd. Yet,…
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