FOR OLD TIMES SAKE *************************
December 2009
Dear Carly,
It was a wonderful surprise to hear from you the other day. It's been such a long time and yet it seems like no time has passed when we get into the realm of communication.
You know, I was born in the heart of the time and place of the jazz era, but it was in the 40's, the war, and the swing era made a lasting impression on me.
Your most impressionable time would have been in the 80's and 90's. The impact of the early jazz era was long gone and the swing era had also ended, so you would have been the product of the era of prosperity--the new jazz, rhythm and blues, alternative, rap, and rock and roll. And yet you have developed an affinity to earlier music.
You say I have influenced you, but I know your Jazz History Studies in Cambridge, New Orleans, Chicago, and Boston have played a big part as well.
All of what you have been through musically, is a true gift and a clue to your "old soul" origins. Most people have no real understanding what the WW2 years were like and think "swing" is just some kind of generic name for some forms of dancing.
As evidenced by our last telephone conversation, we can still get into lengthy conversations and connect. Not just on music! It reinforces what I have always felt, that we have met at some other time and place.
You are always in my thoughts and will be forever more in my heart. As is so often the case, I relate people, places, and events to music that also has a deep emotional impact and for you that would be Gershwin's "They Can't Take That Away From Me," and what I do have is all good.
I've been feeling a degree of stiffness and pain, particularly when I get up in the morning and most chronically in my left knee. But when I get on the dance floor and I can start moving to music that truly swings, I experience a miracle no lesser than Bernadette herself. All the pain leaves and I can really fly on the "wings of a song".
Even though San Diego lacks some of the cultural consciousness of Chicago and the Eastern Coastal areas, there are some great musicans here and pockets of of good swing and live jazz.
For old times sake, think seriously about coming to visit me when you feel the weather allows for safe travel.
I would be happy to pick you up where ever you choose to get off the train. You are of course welcome to stay in my guest quarters, or with me for that matter! I will always make room for you if you promise to stay on your side of the bed.
Love,
Otto
**************************
January 2, 2010
Dear Carly,
It was so good to hear from you today. I wondered if anyone contacted you about the car accident my grand-daughter and I were in New Year's Eve.
Today my daughter brought me my laptop, so I thought I would try to write you and see if I can stay awake. I am still heavily sedated most of the time.
A nurse visited me here in the hospital two hours ago. She calls herself a "Patient Advocate" and wants to know how how I'm going to pay for my previous visit. I tell her I am not sure, but say no more as my increased heart beat indicated that I was about to go into atrial fibrillation.
She asked me if this is a pre-existing condition. I told her it's all part of my recent stay in her hospital when I first contracted C-diff last summer.
She said that may be why my insurance company is not paying, that some companies are refusing to pay when a patient catches the bacterial infection in the hospital.
Their argument is that it could have been prevented by the hospital. I agree, but somebody damn well better decide to pay for it.
You pay insurance all your life and when it's time for them to cough up they don't? What a bunch of crap. Forgive me for being so rough. It must be the meds they got me on.
I will write to you again a.s.a.p.
Love,
Otto
***************************
January 9, 2010
Dear Carly,
I want out of this fucking place. My dad was right when he said hospitals are where you go to die. I need to get out of here and regain my health. These bastards do everything wrong. They are not just misinformed, they are stupid and overlook the obvious.
I am worse now than when I wrote you last. I figure I may have become too expensive for them to keep alive, but they can't kick me out of here like I am.
The good news is that my grand-daughter has been released. She is young enough, there's hope she will have a complete recovery. I want to get out of this place so I can help take care of her. Do you remember her?
Love,
Otto
*******************************
January 12, 2010
Dear Carly,
I'm doing better today. Maybe in a few more days and I'll be out of here, an outpatient in physical rehabilitation.
As you suggested, I am keeping a journal through the letters I write to you. My granddaughter will be using my lap top until her new one arrives, but I will send messages to you from the college three times a week. I too, think it will help us to stay in touch.
Right after the car wreck, I asked God to take me, let me die if it would save her life, but so far, both of us survive and are gradually returning to normal. Maybe God is not done with me yet. I hope not.
Somedays I feel like I'm not much good anymore to anyone except to my students and dance partners.
Did I tell you all the women at the "San Diego Oceanside Ballroom" are crazy about me?
I hate to admit it Carly, but I'm growing old. I wonder if you'd even recognize me anymore.
I'll send you a picture someday, maybe I can get one of the nurses to take one for you next time they clean me up. I'll send it as you asked if you promise to still be fond of me.
Love,
Otto
***********************
JANUARY 20, 2010
Dear Carly,
Anabella, my physical therapist and I went walking through the mall near my home. I lost my balance and fell into some potted plants. It must have knocked me out.
I woke up with flowers and greenery all around me. I was glad to see I wasn't in a coffin. If it hadn't of been so funny, it would have been embarrassing.
My need for physical therapy has to be more than simply the consequences of the accident. I suspect it is because of old age also. Nevertheless, the doctors said I should make a complete recovery. Perhaps they will even let me re-new my viagra if my vitals return to normal.
My diet this last week has left me ten pounds lighter. Most of that is water but ten pounds is ten pounds and I can breathe easier, but my legs weigh heavy and I had to flop into a nearby seat while Anabella, my physical therapist, went to get us a snack and something to drink.
It sure is not how we used to dine Carly.
What I wouldn't give for just one night like that again. I always remember you in that red beret at Sayfee's in Grand Rapids. I was so proud of you that Christmas Eve. How was it again that I lost you?
Love,
Otto
*****************************
January 25, 2010
Dear Carly,
A young woman had been watching Anabella walk with me in the mall.
She sat at a nearby counter in the food court. Getting up she walked towards me and held out her bag of little Chocolate Hershey Bars. I took a piece and thanked her. She nodded and smiled as I put it in my mouth, placing two more in my hand.
The candy did nothing, but the gesture everything. It warmed my heart and I found myself feeling happy for the first time, in a long time.
Then, for no apparent reason the girl began crying and saying she was afraid.
She was a big girl, must have been close to six feet tall and on the heavy side, maybe twenty-six, yet she reminded me of a small lost child.
Her caretaker came over and reassured me the girl was fine, and that she was subject to panic attacks.
I asked both of them their names. The girl stopped crying long enough to tell me hers was Mary, then she reached out for my hand. I let her hold it, looking at her care giver to make sure it was okay. She nodded to me and smiled.
What a pretty lady I thought, but then turned my attention back to Mary who was beginning to cry again. Looking her in the eyes I said, "Mary, everything is okay now, you are safe, don't be afraid."
She held my hand tightly and looked me directly in the eye saying, "Okay?" Everything okay? Safe? Mary safe?"
I wanted to hug her and reassure her but I was concerned it might not be proper. You have to be so careful nowadays.
The pretty lady looked at me as if she knew what I was thinking, and said, "Mary likes you, what's your name? By the way, my name's Millie McMaster--a nurse at the care facility down the street. Here is my card if you'd ever like to stop in and say hello to Mary. We encourage our patients to make new friends."
Handing her my card from the college, I told her my name was Otto and a little bit about myself. Before she had a chance to say much more, Anabella had returned with our hotdogs and wanted to walk down to the other end of the mall to find a picnic table.
Energized by their random kindness, I become more talkative and so did Millie. Mary simply sat and squeezed my hand. To my surprise before they left, so did Millie.
They walked slowly away turning and waving to me every 15 feet or so. Before they turned the corner and dropped out of sight, I found myself winking and grinning ear to ear.
I admired Millie's fine derriere as she walked away from me. Some things never change Babe.
Anabella had finished her hotdog and was looking anxious for us to resume our physical therapy session. We took off hot dogs in hand to find a picnic table. By the time we got there we were famished and ate without talking.
When we had finished, I cleaned up the mess while deep in thought. Suddenly looking up I saw her staring at me with a smirk on her face.
I wondered if looked silly, but I didn't care. I only knew I felt giddy as a kid in seventh grade at the prospect of seeing Millie again. I wondered if she gave baths.
Love,
Otto
******************************
To be continued: FOR OLD TIMES SAKE (Part 2)
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Babe
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