When Covid first started to ripple across the country my youngest daughter asked me that, in my long life and apparent wisdom if I had ever undergone such a disruptive societal force. I took a moment, looked at her with the gravitas needed for these sorts of questions and replied, “Yes… Disco”.

I certainly didn’t see the dangers that lay ahead of us almost a year ago when the virus was starting to make the news. To say the year has been tumultuous is an overwhelming understatement. I certainly didn’t grasp the sweeping impact that this would have not only on our city, but our country and the world.

The sentiment that family is everything takes on a whole new meaning when regular family gatherings are cancelled or postponed. We have all missed birthdays, weddings, holidays and sadly funerals over the last while. But in the same breath, the importance of family time comes to the forefront because it’s missing. Zoom chats, phone calls and socially distanced meetings help, but nothing replaces a good long hug.

The lack of family gatherings had me thinking back to all the times when we planned these evenings without a whiff of concern. My children have never been shy about vocalizing their thoughts. This was a curse upon us when they were kids but is a wonderful way to spend an evening with young adults who have more to talk about than the latest episode of The Simpsons. No wait, they still talk about the latest episode of The Simpsons.

It is inevitable that when you get a group of people all talking over each other with words bouncing around the room like echoes in the Grand Canyon, that sometime the message does get lost in the medium. Eight people trying to make a point all at the same time, can be somewhat dizzying for old ears like mine. The brain tires quickly when trying to parse who said what to whom. Sometimes these group conversations would end up like a strange iteration of “Who’s On First” with two completely different conversations melding together and making sense in a completely absurdist manner.  The kids acknowledged the mayhem and thought that in the following get together a game might help ease the chaos.

A few weeks prior to our next holiday get-together we were each asked to think of three songs that had a lasting impact on our lives. Once we had decided on the songs, we emailed our selections to our daughters’ partner. He cataloged them all into a playlist and we were asked not to discuss our selection with anyone else in the family.

I, like many others, can pinpoint many of life’s peaks and valleys to certain songs. Music has forged societies ahead, it has calmed us, energized us and united us, made us smile and made us cry. So when this concept was suggested, we all agreed it would be a fun way to spend an evening.

When the family weekend arrived and after dinner, we all adjourned to the living room. The playlist had been set on shuffle, meaning that the songs would play randomly. If the song you chose started to play, you were not to reveal that it was your choice. Instead, you would join in the group trying to determine whose song it was. Subterfuge is always good fun in a family environment.

When the song ended each person said who they thought the song was selected by. Sometimes it was unanimous, sometimes it was not and sometimes it just elicited shrugged shoulders.  Once revealed and all of the “what?” and “really?” and the definitive “I knew it!” were blurted out, it was up to the song selector to explain why this song had such an impact on them. To me this was the most fascinating part of the game. It revealed things you did not know of the children you helped raise over the last 35 years, or the woman you have been married to for 39 years for that matter. In addition, I am also glad and relieved to say nothing was revealed of our children’s partners that would have us overly concerned.

It was an excellent way to spend an evening considering there were 24 songs, one of which was Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree”, the LP version which lasted 18:34. To me, the most interesting choice was The Turtles, “So Happy Together”. My daughter selected this song, although most thought it was me. When asked why she picked this song she said it was because it showed her of the power of one word being able to change an entire perception of something. Considering that she is in marketing, this was something pretty relevant to her.

She remembered one time when she and I were driving, and this song came over the speakers. From the well of music trivia that is me, I told her that most people thought that this was a love song about a couple who are so happy together but if you listen to the first word of the lyric, the song is not about a shared love, but of unrequited love. That first word changes the whole meaning of the song? The first word of the lyric? “Imagine” as in, “Imagine me and you, I do, I think of you every night, it’s only right”.

It’s amazing how you can make a lasting influence on someone’s thinking with a small observation of one small word.

 

Wednesday Morning 3 A.M..

At three in the morning, your mind enjoys the freedom of unrestricted access to all the crooks and crannies of your brain and wanders wherever the heck it wants to wander.  Sometimes it will take on a jaunty ride through past memories, sometimes projecting itself into a future of happiness and bliss.  However, on occasion when it is feeling particularly nasty, it seeks out with  seemingly laser focus, those hidden negative thoughts and holds onto them like burrs on a wool sock.

When you are lying there, pretty well unprotected in your cozy bed, there is a certain level of trust that nothing will happen to you. You certainly don't expect something like a meteor to come crashing through your ceiling and squashing you like an ant. No, you feel safe... serene... cocooned in a warm blanket, silence all around and a soothing darkness to lull you to sleep. Well, sometimes you feel that way.

Just a while ago I was in a similar situation, in bed, a fluffy duvet keeping me toasty warm with the window cracked open a bit to let some fresh cool air in the room. The in-room humidifier was emitting a soft steady whirling sound and sending a stream of moisturized air into the room. My wife was softly breathing beside me and except for the fact I was awake at the aforementioned three a.m. everything was good. Yes, everything up to that point was good.  Then it happened.

I was just falling back to sleep when I thought I heard my wife murmur something. It certainly sounded like her voice. She has been known to talk in her sleep and even once I was awaken by her meowing like a cat.  But I love her, so you put up with that sort of thing every now and then.  Anyway, this time what she said was kind of inaudible, but I was pretty sure she said something.  I lay there straining my ears in the darkness wondering if I had just imagined the voice.

Then I heard it again. This time I was sure she said, "Ghill'em". "Ghill'em?" I repeated in my head. What the heck is ghill'em?  Then as I was trying to process this, out of the darkness I heard her again. This time slightly different but still sounding like my wife. It was more like, "Ghnow".

"Ghill'em ghnow"?  I rolled the words over and over again in my mind, changing the emphasis and the inflection.  Then suddenly, as if a light was switched on, I knew what she was saying wasn't "Ghill'em ghnow", it was "Kill him now!"

No doubt about it, she said kill him now!  What did I do that was so wrong? Sure, I haven't always been the perfect husband, but getting killed for that was a bit over the top, in my own personal opinion. Any prospect of sleep was gone now.  It is not an easy task to close your eyes with the thought that you might not ever open them again, especially if someone with murderous intent lying there not a foot away from you. I glanced to my side and in the darkness I could make out my wife seemingly sleeping, unmoving, breathing softly without even a mew emitting from her lips. 

Unsure of anything, I lay there,  my eyes clicking back and forth in their sockets, my body unmoving, but ready to evade any impending attack. As I sat pondering this situation, again out of the darkness I again heard, "Ghill'em ghnow".

I sat bolt upright in bed, my arms akimbo like an avenging Ninja. I may have let out a manly squeak or two, I'm still not sure.  And then again, "Ghill'em ghnow".  But from my new perspective of sitting upright, I found the sound came not from my wife's lips but from across the room. So using my three in the morning brain I quickly deduced it was one of two things; that either my wife had become an expert ventriloquist between the time she went to bed and three in the morning or there was a ghostly presence in the room. A ghostly presence with murderous thoughts. Surely these are the most reasonable explanations, what else could it be?

Of course, the idea that my wife's' voice as she slept was uncannily similar to the sound of the humidifier gurgling as air bubbles made their way into the reservoir didn't even register on my ragged mind. That didn't occur to me until hours later when my wife woke from her sleep and stumbled from bed to make her morning coffee. By then I was rather tired of sitting up with arms akimbo for the previous 3 hours. Six in the morning brain is a little more functional than the three in the morning brain. So it soon became clear to me that hearing the humidifier threatening me with murder when my wife wasn't even in the room might be the most logical of answers.

This isn't as rare, or as crazy as it sounds as many people can see the man in the moon where there are just shadows and light, or interpreting the lyrics of "Louie, Louie" as somewhat pornographic when they aren't or right down to detecting murderous thoughts from a humidifier impersonating your wife. But in case I do end up dead, you'll know it wasn't the heat that killed me, it was the humidity.