Call me Ishmael. I never thought my life would be so similar to Melville's Moby Dick. Call me Ishmael is the first line from the classic novel. Ishmael was the only survivor of the encounter with the white whale. It is through his recounting of the story that the reader finds out what happened and how he alone survived.
My life has recently seen me become as Ishmael was. The last survivor of a tight crew. Earlier today the phone rang. The voice on the other end was one I had not talked to in years. It was the voice of the little brother of the drummer from my first band. He told me of his brother's passing. It seems Wednesday night on his way back from the store he was hit by a drunk driver. His car was totalled and he did not survive.
Bob Blackwell was a great person and an incredible musician. He earned my respect a long time ago. We had loosely kept in touch after the band broke up in 1986. We were just teen-agers then. From 1983 to 1986 we were in a great band called The Nucking Futs.
In 1987 Bob and I had attnded the funeral of our lead singer who had drowned in his family's pool.
In 1997 we attended the funeral of our bass player, who died from an over dose.
And now I , the surviving member of the band have to attend Bob's funeral.
Call me Ishmael, I am the only survivor of a great local amature band.
My thoughts can not help but wonder what will happen to me in 2017. There does seem to be a pattern running here. A possible curse of The Nucking Futs.
In the last 6 weeks I have lost alot that I cared for. This is just one more thing to make me question if God has it in for me or not.
