My breathing has been deteriorating steadily for the last couple months. I've spent more time in the hospital than at home and my doctors say there's not much more that they can do for me. In 2021 I wrote:
In my life I've traveled to four continents. I've read thousands of books. I've seen performances by legendary musicians from Segovia to Johnny Rotten. I was in New York in 1969, the day the Mets won the World Series and the City erupted with joy. Most marvelous of all, I lived in Minneapolis in the 1980's when every week fresh and exciting artists would seem to emerge from basements and garages. I've written 4 books of poetry, produced a video and my band recorded a CD. I got a Jerome Foundation grant. I've acted in Shakespeare on stage and I've fought the police in the streets. I've partied with the Hell's Angels and taught French at the University. I've been a Union organizer and a bureaucrat. I've marveled at the rings of Saturn thru a telescope and watched whales spouting off the coast of Newfoundland. At the age of 65 I started my own rock band. These days I go to Paris and hang out with jazz musicians.
I don't know how much time I have left and I won't pretend that the appearance of death on the horizon hasn't been a gut punch for me and my family - my family who's stepped up so spectacularly to take care of me, despite their own very serious medical problems. I'm 85 years old now. Thanks largely to my community here in the Twin Cities, I've had more fun in my life than anyone has ever deserved. If I were to die tomorrow, I couldn't complain.
