When You're Going Through Hell, Keep Going

I'm writing this so I remember.
I'm also writing this to motivate myself, and to explain what happened.

I was scheduled to have rotator cuff surgery on my shoulder on Dec 16th. I needed it for sure, because I couldn't work or play guitar without pain.

Two weeks before the surgery I thought I had the flu. I see now that it wasn't the flu. It was something far more dangerous.
I stayed in bed with vicious headaches and nausea and all I could do was sleep. I was having trouble breathing. I felt lousy.

When it was time for the shoulder surgery, I didn't tell the doctor what was going on.
I had waited 3 months for this surgery and I needed to get back to work and to begin playing and recording again without any setbacks.
I wanted that surgery dammit!

This was supposed to be a simple arthroscopic day surgery.
It wasn't.
The surgery itself went OK.
After the surgery they had trouble bringing me back around. My vital stats were very bad.

They kept me in the hospital for a couple of days, then they let me go home, feeling awful, and all doped up on strong pain meds.
I hadn't done any Christmas shopping, and my good friend Frank offered to drive me where I wanted to go after a quick follow-up visit to my pulmonary doctor.
The doctor took a quick EKG test, looked at the results, shook his head and said, "Amazing. I can't believe you are still functioning."

My blood oxygen was 72 and my heart rate was racing into the 120's. He sent me straight back into Winchester hospital.
No Christmas shopping for me. Frank drove me there. He was my ambulance driver and my taxi guy on the same day.
That hospital stay is just a blur to me. I couldn't tell you a thing about it.

They let me out just in time for Christmas Eve, feeling terrible physically and emotionally for ruining Christmas.
My wife made me a nice dinner. I had a few glasses of wine, and then, stupidly a couple of drinks. I knew I shouldn't, but it was Christmas Eve, and I was feeling so low, very melancholy. A blue Christmas, for sure.

The next morning I had trouble getting up. I had trouble breathing, and my heart kept racing.
While opening presents, I just keeled over.
My wife sent me back to bed, and luckily, she came upstairs to check on me.
I was incoherent. She took my pulse, my breathing was shallow, and she couldn't wake me.

The next thing I remember, I was being carried down the stairs by four EMT's.
Red lights were flashing and my neighbors were standing on their steps gawking at me as they put me into the ambulance and whisked me away.

I remember coming in and out of consciousness in the intensive care ward. I was suffocating, sucking air, with my heart pounding so loud it sounded like a freight train in my head. They put an oxygen mask (which didn't fit) over my nose and mouth, but I couldn't breathe. I threw up into the mask and began thrashing around as they held me down. I was choking to death and scared out of my mind.
I actually felt a seperation between my self and my body.
I don't know how to explain that to you, but I felt myself rising, as if discarding my sick body.
They ripped the mask off. I gasped for air. Everyone was telling me to keep breathing, and not to give up, and I remember telling my wife, "I'm dying!" in between gasps.
But another part of me was struggling to keep breathing, and after a long time they got my breathing back under control.
That was the longest night ever. I never slept. I only went in and out of consciousness.
I didn't want to sleep. I was afraid I'd never wake up.
The sun came up, and the hospital came back to life, from a spooky quiet place to a bustling beehive of activity.
Don't get sick on Christmas night folks. You won't find many people on staff.
The rest of this stay was a blur to me. I was pretty much out of it, mentally. I don't even know how many days I stayed.
Then they let me out.
I didn't do well when I got home.
Getting to sleep was hard, I had to pack my shoulder in ice, and I couldn't get comfortable.It throbbed but they wouldn't allow me to take any sleeping medication for fear of screwing up my breathing and heart rates.
I had to tough it out.
I kept waking up suffocating, gasping for air, with my heart racing, dizzy and faint, very weak, not having a wonderful Christmas time. And let's not forget the shoulder. It's a painful operation, but they wouldn't allow me to take any pain medication, because it slows down the breathing.

Worst of all, though I needed sleep, I was afraid to sleep, and every time I drifted off I woke up gasping for air, desperately sucking for wind, with my heart doing a drum solo.
That happened so many times I just couldn't stand it any more, and conacted the pulmonary doctor again.
He had told me to see a doctor who specializes in my problem (bi-lateral diaphragm paralysis) at Tufts Medical Center, in Boston.
So, there I was, on New Year's Eve...in another emergency room, being admitted to the hospital for the 4th time in 16 days.
I spent another 3 days there. They were long lonely days, but thanks to my family and my friends, I got through it.
I learned a few things:
My wife really does love me, and she's part angel.
My son is a fine young man who helped out around the house and shoveled a lot of snow without me. I think he's gonna turn out just fine.
My best friends really are my best friends.
Lot's of people care about me.
I need to show them I care about them more often.
I need to take better care of myself.
We all need each other.
Being grateful helps you enjoy life much more.
There's a lot of people who have it a lot worse off than we do.
Also:
Most nurses have bad breath. (They seem to wash down garlic with coffee a lot)
All hospital food tastes like toast.
Fat guys should never wear robes that tie in the back.

I'm home now, beginning a new phase in my life, beginning to recover.
This is going to be a long road ahead and it's going to take lot's of small steps to get there, but I'm gonna get there.
I'll make a comeback. Just watch me.



I'll never forget the Christmas season of 2009, even though I'll always want to.
It was an unfolding nightmare of sickness, pain, punctured by the most terrifying moments of my life.
Not much of a holiday.
Several times I was in fear of dying. And it all began with what should have been a simple operation.

Be carefull out there. Take care of each other. Take care of yourselves!
Tell the people you love that you love them.
Let's make this a happier, healthier year!

Kenny Hogan
January 4th, 2010

Synchronicity On Rollercoaster Road

I was taking a Sunday drive up on old Route 1 yesterday with my family.

We were headed towards the ocean to Plum Island on a beautiful summer day.

It occurred to me that I was on the part of the road my father used to call "Rollercoaster Road."

So I put the song "Frank's Imperial," on and drove up to Plum island listening to it.

I explained to them that this is where my dad used to take us in his 67 Chrysler Imperial on Sundays.

We drove up and down the steep hills listening to these lyrics:

and I'm in the back seat, just 12 years old,

a Sunday drive, on Rollercoaster Road,

flyin' high, in Frank's blue jet,

he's got his arm out the window, holdin' a cigarette,

his car has style, his car has class,

whitewall tires, tinted glass,

it rides so smooth, strong and fast,

Frank just smiles, and steps on the gas...

...and for a minute there, I felt like Frank himself, driving the family in his big blue jet.

My mind drifted back through those fond memories of my childhood, and I found myself wiping a secret tear from my eye.

When we got to our destination - Plum Island, my cell phone rang.

My friend Carl was calling to tell me that NPR's Car Talk radio show had just played "Frank's Imperial," on the radio!

Of course I was thrilled to hear that.

Then it hit me.

They were playing the song on the radio at the exact same time we were on Rollercoaster Road listening to the same song!

What are the odds in that happening?

Was my father somehow communicating to me, sending me a message?

Do you believe in synchronicity?

I do.

Here is the definition of Synchronicity:

The term synchronicity is coined by Carl Jung to express a concept that belongs to him. It is about a causal connection of two or more psycho-physic phenomena.

Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events which are causally unrelated occurring together in a meaningful manner.

In order to count as synchronicity, the events should be unlikely to occur together by chance.

The concept does not question, or compete with, the notion of causality. Instead, it maintains that just as events may be grouped by cause, they may also be grouped by their meaning.

It does not escape my attention that I was called on the phone by a guy named CARL either.

You can download the song Frank's Imperial by clicking here.

Summer Checklist

The summer of 2009 is like no other summer I've seen.
We've all been waiting all summer for summer to come. It's true.

The rain has been like a bad rash that just won't clear up. Here it is, July, and I haven't done half the things I would have done if it were a normal summer.



BUT!
I have a summer checklist.
Certain things have to get done. AND THEY WILL!
There are specific places that I must go and certain foods I need to have, and there are events that are summer rituals for me.

The summer just isn't complete unless these things get done.
I think that everyone would have a better summer if they made a checklist of their own.
So read mine and come up with your own, and I hope you have a great summer!

Destinations:

• Gloucester area beaches: Rockport, Good Harbor, Long Beach
• Salisbury, Hampton, especially the boardwalk
• York Beach, Maine, My favorite of all
• Canobie Lake Park, brings out the kid in me, and they have fireworks on Saturday night
• Castle Island, Central Maine, fishing for pike on a beautiful natural lake
• The Pemigewassett River, Bristol, NH, best smallmouth bass fishing around, and so nice
  
• Burlington Vermont, Even the long ride up there is enjoyable, and it's so nice up there
• Boston's Freedom Trail, Sometimes we take it for granted, and it's really cool

Events:

• Fireworks - Anywhere, but especially Gloucester and Canobie lake
• Backyard Barbecues- ask me, I'm there
• Outdoor concerts at Heritage Park in Lowell, you can't beat that venue or the price
• Outdoor Concerts anywhere but Great Woods, or whatever they're calling it this week
• Campfires on the beach, a river or any other place, nothing better than sitting by a fire
• Hiking in the woods, alone or with friends, it's fun and it doesn't cost a penny
• A good thunderstorm on my back porch, or on the lake at Castle Island
• Whale Watch - Gloucester has a great one
• A boat ride of any kind. Just to be on the water is great
• Cocktails on a patio or deck on a nice summer day
• Walking in York Village watching them make the taffy etc...
• Fishing- just about anywhere, but especially NH and Maine
• Summer Reading - on the back porch, or the beach, or a cottage, or by a pool...
  

FOOD & BEVERAGES:

• Cookout food of all kinds, chicken, ribs, steak tips, sausages, cheeseburgers, hotdogs
• Corn On The Cob from some road-side stand
  
• Lobster
• Lobster Roll- preferably from that little fish store in York Village
• Fried Clams - From the Clam Box in Ipswich, or Woodman's
• Any and all junk food on the boardwalk at Hampton Beach
• Shooting the piano player in the ass at the arcade on Hampton Beach
  
• A Lime Rickey on a hot day
• A Raspberry Lime Rickey on a very hot day
  
• Salt Water Taffy & Chocolate Turtles form York Village
• Blueberry Pie with ice cream
• Blueberry Pancakes
• Blueberry Bread
• Blueberry this
• Blueberry that
  
• Watermelon
• Italian Ice
• Popsicles
• Frappes 
  
• Watermelon Italian Ice
  
• Planked Salmon
• Richie's Slush
  
• Macaroni Salad
• Potato Salad
• Chicken Salad
  
• Fresh Tomatoes from the garden
  
• Coffee Coolatas
• Home Made Iced Tea or Sun Tea
  
• Margaritas
• Pina Coladas
• Ice Cold Beer from the bottom of a cooler filled with ice water

I think that just about covers it.
Did I leave anything out?
Please leave me a comment, if you think of anything.

Have a great summer!

On Purpose

This week I'll turn 54.
SHIT!
That ain't good,
but I guess I'm still here and that's a good thing.
Lot's of people aren't.
I feel okay, I'm writing songs and making up stories, creating stuff,

"practicing my purpose," as they say.

That's what my purpose seems to be. (among others)

Who's to say what your purpose is?

YOU.

That's who.

No one else is qualified.

Ask yourself this question;

"What am I here for?"

If the answer is, "I don't know," keep asking the question.

But don't look for someone else to answer it.

The Allosaurus

When I was a little boy, I had a best friend.
He lived across the street.His name was Kevin . I called him "Kevie."

We shared playpens, learned to walk and talk together, run, ride bikes, climb trees, and play with plastic army men and plastic dinosaurs in the tall grass being my mother's house.

We loved playing dinosaurs the best.

We liked the Tyrannosaurus and the Allosaurus the best of all.
Kevie loved the Allosaurus.

The Tyrannosaurus was green. The Allosaurus was gray, almost silver.
Their names were engraved on their tails.
We spent many happy hours pretending that our green plastic army men were attacking the dinosaurs.
The dinosaurs usually won. Those poor army men never stood a chance against our monsters.
Rifles could not stop the fury of Kevie's Allosaurus! Even a tank was no match for my T-Rex!

Kevie and I grew up and got to old for plastic dinosaurs, and life took us in different directions.

Many years passed.

One day when I was in my mid thirties, I stopped by my mother's house to cut the lawn.
I went out back in the tall grass, swinging a sickle because the tall grass was too much for a lawn mower to cut.

One swing of the sickle caused me to golf something gray into the air.
In a split second I knew what it was; the Allosaurus!

I ran over and scooped it up in my hand. I was thrilled to go from 35 years old back to seven just by holding the plastic dinosaur in my hand.

My first thought was of Kevie, who I really hadn't seen in many many years.

I walked over to his mother's house and knocked on the big oak door. His sister answered the door, but she didn't recognize me right away.

"Is Kevie here by any chance?" I asked.

"Kevin?" she said, "and who should I tell him is here?"

"Kenny"

He came around the corner with a big grin. "Kenny!!! Oh my god! Good to see ya! How are ya?" We hugged.

"Never mind how I am", I said in a false angry voice, "Stop leavin' you're stuff over in my mother's back yard!"

He looked at me, confused for a second. Then I held the little gray dinosaur out in front of him. He looked at it, then at me, and as I handed it to him, a huge smile lit up on his face.

"The Allosaurus!" he yelled, and we laughed until we had tears in our eyes.

---

Years went by...and I got a call. They told me Kevie had died.

I went to the wake by myself.

Getting out of the car I bumped into my old friend Johnny from the old neighborhood.

I hadn't seen him in many years.

We looked at each other and we burst into tears.

We hugged each other.

Neither one of us could speak. We just hung onto each other and let it out.

After the wake I drove home crying so hard that I missed my exit and drove for 15 minutes in the wrong direction before I figured it out.

I didn't expect that it would hit me so hard.

It's hard to explain the bonds of friendship. They go much deeper than you know.

We drift away from each other with time.

But the bonds are strong between two kids,
...and a plastic dinosaur.

If You're Over 50...This One's For You

How did this happen to me?
I used to be cool!
Getting old wasn't supposed to happen to ME!!!
I used to run like the wind.
Now I grunt and fart when I tie my shoes.

I tell people to slow down.
I tell kids to stay out of my yard.I've actually kept the ball!

It's hard to admit that I'm not young any more, that I'm slower and rounder, and lazier too.
I have a remote control for my friggin air conditioner!
Jesus, how lazy do you have to be to say, "It's too friggin' hot for me. I don't wanna walk all the way across this room, ...Where's my AC remote?"

I actually keep THREE TV remotes in my living room, because I'm too lazy to look for them when they get lost.

When I was a kid every house had one TV, one phone, one stereo, and that was it.
No remote.
Back then, I was the remote.
My father used ME as the remote control.
He'd say,"What the hell is this show? Mod Squad? KENNY! Turn on channel 7, Gunsmoke is on!"

We had an antenna on the roof with motor on it, and we thought that was cool.
There was a big dial on top of the TV, and you had to turn the dial to get the antenna to go around.
It made a noise like this: "Gadderrzh-ditt!... Gadderrzh-ditt!... Gadderrzh-ditt!"
...And you had to stand there and wait.
If a plane flew over the house, it would screw up the whole picture.
My 45 records and my albums were my prized possessions.
Now I love my i-pod instead. But I miss the album covers! Don't you?
Why can't they sell Cd's inside full sized album covers?

My generation used to smoke grass and take acid.
Now we mow the grass and take antacids.

I've pretty much given up playing gigs in bars.
I found myself wanting to go to bed after the 2nd set. once I had to delay the set because my ibuprofen fell behind my amp.

I wonder how many gigs I've done in my life... More than a thousand?
Maybe. Probably.
The Rolling Stones are way older than me and they're still rockin'.
I wonder if Keith Richards grunts and farts when he ties his shoes?
"Excuse me Mick I have to tie my shoe.." ffffFFFRRRAAAMMPPP!, (Grunting with an English accent)

Do you think Keith or Mick use Viagra?Why not? They've tried every other drug.
But they probably crush it up and snort it.

I once ran an eighteen mile road race.
Now when the pizza guy comes to the door, I make my kid answer it.

Half a century has gone by. How did this happen to me?
I used to have so much energy. Now if I walk down to the sub shop I need a nap.
The other day I drove for three exits before realizing that I left my directional on.
That's a bad sign, isn't it?
I know who Petula Clarke IS! That's how old I am.
Wait a minute, I gotta tie my shoe... bbbBRRAAAMPHFF!!! (grunt) excuse me!

I've been wondering...Is it okay for me to still look at girls, or am I just a perverted old man now?They don't look back any more anyways.

If I go to the beach Greenpeace tries to roll me back into the ocean.
I can never relax because I have to dodge the harpoons.
I can see Japanese fishing trawlers in the distance, waiting.

At least I still have hair.
Most of my friends have to put sun-block on their heads.
Think of the money I've saved on sun-blocking my head!

And at least I'm alive. Some of my friends aren't.

Mentally I don't feel any different.I'm still just as mental and different as I used to be.
My birthday is coming up on the fourth of July.
I hope the candles on the cake don't set off the smoke alarms.

Maybe I should buy loafers.

Block your nose. I gotta tie my shoe.

Praying

Praying is like broadcasting,
and hoping someone is listening.

Today's broadcast:
"Dear God: Thanks for my heartbeat."
(each and every one)

And when that eventually stops,
I'd like to be with you,
and any other listeners I may have.


-------------------------------------------------------------

[Click here and go to heaven]

The Best Day Of My Life

 

The day my son was born was the best of all my days.

I have never felt better in my life.
I remember being so nervous and worried, so anxious,
waiting for the big day.
Then when I saw him come into the world,
so tiny, so perfect,
It was the most amazing thing I have ever witnessed.
Nothing else could even come close.
I was so proud of my wife and so happy for her too.
I saw that baby for the first time,
and everything just changed.
Talk about love at first sight!
I remember feeling so happy that I was floating.
I called all my brothers and a few friends,
and just beamed over the phone to them,
even though it was in the wee hours of the morning,
I remember my Father-in-law in the waiting room, congratulating me and laughing at how goofy I was acting, telling me to calm down.

As I floated down the corridor to go home,
I walked by this little room they have set up as a chapel.
I got a few steps beyond the door, stopped dead in my tracks, turned around and walked back in.

I knelt down and thanked God.
Never so happy or grateful in my life.

As I drove home with tears streaming down my face,
it started snowing.
I slowed down, and drove home very carefully,
reminding myself that I was someone's dad now,
and smiling at the thought of it.

This song is dedicated to my boy... [click here to listen]

Let's Go To Memphis!

A brief slide show my good friend Iggy put together, with images of our recent pilgrimage to Memphis, in search of the roots of Rock & Roll, The Blues, and Southern cuisine.
This features my song "Lets Go."

CLICK RIGHT HERE AND GO TO MEMPHIS WITH US!

Childhood

My earliest memory comes from when I was about three years old. I remember being in a playpen in my parent's bedroom. My mother was screaming and crying.

They had put me in there in my playpen, and I got my hands on my Mom's red lipstick. I rubbed it all over my face and hands and sucked on it.

I also got my hands on my mother's perfume, and drank the whole bottle of purfume and passed out.

My Mom came in to check on me and saw me out cold, all that red drooling out of my mouth and she thought I was bleeding internally. She tried to wake me, but I was out like a light. She called the doctor, who was a close friend of our family, and he came right over.

He explained that the perfume was mostly alcohol, not poisonous, and that I hadn't drank enought to worry about. "Let him sleep it off," he said. "he might have a hangover, but he'll be fine."

Three years old and I was already drunk!

My mother used to sing around the house. She sang while she cooked. She sang while she hung clothes on the line. She sang in a subconcious way. It was a habit. To me it was like having the radio on. Always the same top ten songs too.

She'd bake you a batch of toll house cookies and sing to you witha beautiful voice at the same time.

What would I give to hear that voice again?

...with a cold glass of milk and some hot toll house cookies?


Anything!

Normal. ?

I know the feeling of the brain that wont shut off... especially late at night.
I envy people who can just decide to sleep, and then do it.
I keep a pad of paper by the bed and often write in complete darkness.
The next morning, when I read it, I'm either disappointed, elated, or confused by what I've written, or else I can't read it at all.
I have notebooks full of that stuff.
I have always kept a small recorder near me in case I get an idea. I have drawers full of tapes that I'll never listen to.
In a closet upstairs, I have boxes of note books I've scribbled in.
Most of it is pure shit, but every now and then i know I have something.
Someday, when I kick off, somebody will go through all that crap, and they'll confirm the fact that I'm out there where the buses don't run.
That's okay with me.
I'm very glad to be a musician and a songwriter. I couldn't be normal if I tried.
To me it would be an insult to be called normal.

Lot's of people are normal.
I'm a musician.
That's all I ever wanted to be.

I like that better than being normal,

and I have no choice anyways

Why The Hell Should I Start A Blog?

I have a lot to say. That's why.

I'm always posting on various websites, including my own...
and let's face it: I'm kind of an eccentric nut-bag, so why not start a blog?

I just got into this Facebook thing with some apprehensions.
I thought it was for stalkers, creeps, and guys who couldn't get a date from a calendar, but it seems like it's a good way to network and stay in touch with that kid with the glass eye you went to school with.

I'm a happily married guy, and I didn't want to start getting e-mails from some broad named Gloria who couldn't get the tide to take her out.
But it seems like this is gonna be fun.
I'll be honest: I want to sell some CDs too.
I took 3 years to make an album, (or a beer coaster) depending on how you look at it. I figure nobody can buy it if they don't know it exists.

I have some music, if you want it. CLICK HERE

I'll be honest. I have no idea what I'm doing. This is all new to me, this blogging crap, but it's a chance to spew out the extra mind bubbles, and maybe make people laugh, or tell you about some stuff I know.

This is my 1st blog.

It begins today!

What ever it is- IT BEGINS TODAY!