Eulogy

A Eulogy for B.B. King, September 16, 1925 – May 14, 2015


    All it took was one note. In that one note you felt it all. On that one note you immediately knew who it was playing. On that one note you were hooked and the song had to play out. There was no fast forward with B.B. King. The song demanded to be played to the end. If you played guitar you listened to each note brought forth by Lucille and marveled at its complexity, tremolo and that famous string bend. How could so little produce so much? That one note influenced and inspired countless folks of all manner of strata and stripe to pick up a guitar and try it for themselves. Today, there is not a single musician that has ever laid his hands on string that cannot say that B.B. didn't play a part in his performance. We all aspired to play like him, but many of us felt it was just too sacred a thing to master. Many words have been written on what notes to play and how to formulate his "style." However, deep down inside you just knew that it was impossible to duplicate. So much came from so little. Yes, it was that one note.
     He was at home with any sized audience whether it was someone's living room or a packed arena. His performance never slackened. He was always consistent. He gave everything he had as a personal gift to the audience, you, the listener. He sang with a vulnerability that told of enduring hardship, heartache and just plain feelin' bad. He would draw you in with his sincerity and punctuate his pain with a hard growling and dark wail that you could feel as though it were yours alone. His songs told of the misery of betrayal, the sadness of loss and the joy of friendship shared, angels and the romance that once gained was bliss, but so easy to lose. Yes, there is sadness in the blues, but there is also a joy to be had. B.B. and Lucille delivered it every time they came together.
    When we first heard the news he was in trouble we all knew the end would be soon. Thankfully, he was able to go home to see the end of his days and to be with the woman he loved, Lucille. Today, she has lost her muse never to return. But her legacy will stand forever. Her muse was the kind of a man whose voice crossed all lines and playing her did more for the blues than anyone could possibly measure. Her sound was the boilerplate and standard for the blues. We knew from the first note. That first note that would touch our hearts and say more than a million in the time it took to pluck the string until the moment it stopped. There are many that I miss, today. However, I doubt there will another I will miss more. Thank you, B.B. You made my heart sing and dance, you lifted me up when I was down. You loved us all and we are better for it. 
    Today, the testimonials are pouring forth and there will be many tributes to come. The one common message is the same. B.B. King was a friend of mine. How many of us never knew him personally enough to call him friend? It really doesn't matter. His smile and broad grin made us his friend in an instant. With weighted sadness in our hearts we say good-bye to our friend on this day. But with his passing I hope there will be a resurgence of interest into one of the most influential musicians of our lives. Share his legacy with your children and persuade them of his importance. Persuade them that his music is the real thing and not something that has been computer generated or polished up by studio magic. There wasn't a lot to his rig. It was guitar, an amp and his almighty voice. It was that simple and it never failed to knock us over.

The jam session in heaven will be long, tonight.


Dave Tongay
May 14, 2015

Ending and Beginning

June 5

   He stood at the edge of the forest looking through the verdant greens, the dark and honey browns of the trees and bushes, his mission clear in his mind.  At first alive with birds, insects and small animals then quieted at his approach seeking anonymity or refuge despite the attempt at a quiet and furtive walk. He knew these woods well and often felt a comfort within them.  His family was not there.  That was the important thing.  They were the ones that hurt him and made him feel even more useless in the light of his real debilitation.  The plastic amber bottles rattled in his pocket half-filled with medicines that dulled the pain of the debilitating injuries from so long ago.  They provided an added benefit in that they also took the edge off the emotional pains as well. He figured it should be enough for the job.  His plan was formulated long ago in a deep depression where answers were few and reality was grim.  If the right set of circumstances availed themselves he believed he could make that final grandstand play that would justify the taking of his own life.  There would be crying and supreme disappointment.  Somehow, he knew the devastating effect of his departure would free the many years of frustration, internal injustice and strife from his soul.  He felt he had suffered enough.  The accident so many years ago had robbed him of his ability to work and provide for his family.  It affected his life in every way imaginable.  Years of occupational and physical therapy chipped away at his dignity and self-respect.  So, it would all end in a simple act of closing his eyes and the final drawing of breath.  He wouldn't even know it was happening.  And, of course, they wouldn't know.  His selfishness kept any consideration since she was the one who made up her mind to leave him.  He decided then that she would have to pay.  Thirty years of marriage...over.  She said it the night before.  She said she had had enough of his temper, his whining, his constant complaining about everything around him and his failure to see anything good in anybody.  Yes, she would have to pay for the treachery of her abandonment.

   He lifted the bottle to his open mouth and let them fall in.  Damn, it was difficult to move them around in his mouth without a swig of water or something.  He even considered taking a shot of whiskey if one had been available.  But he had quit some time ago, so that was out of the question.    His tongue moved them clumsily into position to swallow with a dry difficulty.  The capsules tasted of plastic and the few pills mixed in with the overdose started to prematurely break apart in his mouth from his saliva.  It just wasn't happening fast enough.  There was this little twinge of guilt starting to formulate as an intelligent outlier.  It told him he had just stepped over a line might not be able to backtrack from.  It also carried the message that a gunshot into the roof of the mouth might have been better, but a lot messier.  Certainly faster.  Odd how the mind works when it faces this kind of defeatist resolve.  He panicked a bit as he tripped over a rock and stumbled almost falling.  His drug-induced amble through the woods was becoming dangerous.  Off in the distance he saw the glow of lights from a neighbor's house.  John and Betty might be home, but what difference would it make?  He still wanted to go through with this and walked on.  15 minutes in the first effects of the painkillers started to make their presence known.  Thinking began to get fuzzy and the awareness that something was not right with his nervous system began to set in.  His sense of survival started to kick in suggesting it might be best to head over to John's house.  They must be home.  Look, there's his new car.  Nice.  He stood on their back porch banging on the door.  He thought he would be cool, but it was the slurred speech and a set of glassy eyes that gave him away.  They instantly knew something was horribly wrong and took him in. 

    Back at the house someone noticed he wasn't in his room.  A cursory walk out to the opening of the woods found the empty bottles.  His sister interpreted this clue that something very bad had just transpired.  Calls were made to local authorities about a missing man, her brother, in a deep depression was lost in the woods.  Oh, and by the way, he ate all of his medication.  She had had enough of his moodiness and anger.  He would lash out without warning cursing and swearing.  Warning that she and the rest of the family would be sorry seeing him lying in his coffin after treating him the way they did.  She knew his wife had made up her mind and gave him her decision the night before.  Something snapped and a circuit was engaged.  The program that he wrote so long ago opened the file and the program began to run. 

His family notified the authorities to look for a lost man who apparently consumed a number of pain pills and other medications in an attempt to end his life.  However, no body was found within a 30 to 45 minutes staggering distance,  It was long known that he carried a lot of pain with his disability, so, logically, he should be close by.  How far this man could go in an overdosed stupor was not really known, but it couldn't be far. 

The family was sick with worry.  No one had heard from him.  Yet, he was to be found in a neighbor's bed resting within the walls of sleep...a very deep sleep dreamless and dark.  The call was made and relief swept through the family.  He would be held for psychiatric evaluation.  He had fallen into a hole of depression, but somehow to his eventual frustration managed to defeat his attempt.  His body, apparently inured by the constant load of medicine and protocol proved to be heartier than he suspected managed to shrug off the increased as if it did not matter.  He would survive this suicide attempt. 

   God built in His wisdom in this man knowing ahead of time when and where his time would come.  That day just wasn't his day to die.  God knows of that day, that hour and that minute yet to come while we live in ignorance.  The unheard message is there is more for this man to experience and understand.  He will begin the process of rebuilding for now, but rebuilding to what?  Eventually he might find the answer in that.  His journey is far from over and God still has His plan in place.  But now it's time to find out if this man is just a disillusioned prankster hoping to gain some last minute of life attention or a man on a mission determined to end it on his own watch no matter what God thinks.  Somewhere the Devil must be applauding.

   It is often said that God has a plan for us all.  Individual plans notwithstanding we should also consider what kind of plan it might be.  We make plans and they fall apart.  Or, just when we thought all is well we are set on a new course.  There are times when these course changes are subtle and indirect often escaping detection.  Long and short range events with nameless people in seemingly random situations are created in our lives making them a moment to moment experience of trying to stay afloat and alive.  Yet, events and situations occur for a reason that will always baffle us.  Reality can be cold and harsh rooted in mystery and doubt, yet, at times miraculous in their outcome.  What the reason's interpretation and meaning is never evident for immediate interpretation.  There is always the bigger picture, or the grand plan.  We will never know until it all plays out.  Where we are suddenly no longer here, but moved on where all the answers will be given.

   Does God play us one against the other in an ever unfolding drama that culminates when He says so?  Is He involving too many nameless and faceless people to consider that may have may not affect our lives and the way that we lead them?  The man attempting suicide certainly is a case since he has in his failed endeavor managed to affect so many people in various constructive and destructive ways.  As a result of his action everyone has grown up just a little more.  Some more than others.  The sharing of this experience has brought them closer together and more reluctant to let time pass without at least checking in with each other.  Eventually, though, now that the crisis has been averted things will go back to being casual and the relationship bonds now so tightly wrapped will loosen with neglect.  Though he is now safely in the hands of those that "know better," the psychiatrists and shrinks, he is undoubtedly waiting for the next opportunity.  Meanwhile, he is being pumped with various drugs to level out his mania in an attempt to get him to talk.  However, at this stage of the game he ain't talkin' and the Devil is awaiting his due. 

   He was released from the psych ward with nothing to be said and nothing to be learned.  He is home, now, in the custody of his sister.  His wife stops by on occasion to check up on him and inform him of her plans to eventually leave the state and take up residence closer to her sister.  Nothing further has been discussed, learned or settled.

July 3

   The news came in a tearful phone call that he was successful in his bid to end his life.  His sister had gone to the store to get some groceries for the coming holiday leaving him alone for an hour.  So, there was opportunity with motive already in play.  He again walked into the same woods with another bottle of prescription medicine he had convinced his doctor he needed.  Only this time he brought along insurance.  He was not about to be found again wandering the neighborhood in state of absolute confusion and stupor.  This time would be different.  This time he brought his gun along to make sure his mission would be a success.  The investigators following up on his self-imposed murder saw that a number of the pills were missing from the bottle presumably swallowed by the victim.  What left no doubt in their minds was the hole in the roof of his mouth and the exit wound on the top of his head.  That's what they called the cause of death.  The Devil would not be denied in his abatement.  He had won in this battle over this man's depression.  But, the question remains who has come in second?  It does not make sense that it would be God.  This single selfish act devoid of any logic other than what existed a moment before a bullet destroyed his brain and life turned out to be the single most impactful act he had ever created.  Along with it came profound sadness for all involved that will affect and remain a point of sadness for all that knew him.  His chapter has ended.  The new chapter for the survivors has just begun.