What if your friend was gone tomorrow and you never told them how you felt?
What if you never again heard their voice, never saw their face or felt their warm embrace?
I just want to say that you are special to me and you’ve made a difference in my life.
I care for you, I respect you and cherish our friendship.
I want you to know that you are in my thoughts and in my prayers during this crucial time in our lives.
Take care and be well, my friend!
‒ Unknown
Linda Shockley: New York, New York
I met Linda in Santa Fe back in the early eighties when she was writing for the New Mexican ‒ “the oldest newspaper west of the Mississippi.” We have kept in touch over the years, but it’s so nice that now, she and I can commiserate during the Age of Corona. Linda continues her splendid writing as “point woman” for a large non-profit, Early Learning Nations, based in Seattle. As usual, her words are poignant…
Linda Shockley, phone & email: “I live in a beautiful community in Washington Heights in northern Manhattan. My building is on a cliff overlooking the Hudson River and the beautiful Palisades. My neighborhood is a true neighborhood ‒ a small village ‒ with parks, playgrounds, gardens, shops and restaurants. My morning walk passes a woodland leading to Fort Tryon Park and around the Cloisters, which is the medieval branch of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s a place of great beauty, which seems to surprise people who have a different idea about our city.
“Mornings are usually lively and loud as neighbors head to work, drop kids off to school, walk dogs, jog or take fitness classes in the park. Since the pandemic has hit, our neighborhood has been so quiet, the morning birdsong seems deafening. And there are few cars so we can walk down the middle of the streets, always wearing masks or bandanas and proper gloves. It’s a strange sight, a kind of cross between a SciFi and spaghetti western film.
“There’s one exception. At 7pm each evening, we hang out of our windows and take to our rooftops to cheer for all of our essential workers: our medical personnel, grocery store and pharmacy clerks, and the transit and sanitation workers. We shout and cheer, bang wooden spoons on pots and pans, ring cowbells and sing at the top of our lungs.
“We’ll continue to sing and cheer for our neighbors until we have our beloved city back. And maybe even after.”
Leandro Freixo: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Besides being a fantastic keyboard player, Leandro is one of the most thoughtful and sweet people that I’ve ever met. It was a pleasure being able to perform with him (and talk about Sambas!). We have planned a musical rendezvous for years – hopefully in Rio ‒ but as of now those plans have been shelved. I would say that my good friend is a “man of the world,” both literally and spiritually. He loves (and worries) about his amazing country but as a citizen of the world, he frets about the many serious problems threatening the planet and its inhabitants – the pandemic being at the forefront.
Leandro Freixo, FB Messenger: “My work as a musician has come to an almost complete stop. I had a concert in Europe in April and some others in Brasil in different states , but they were all canceled. I had worked on an album which I just finished today. I recorded the tracks using the computer and keys
in my apartment.
“But I am a music-therapist, and I work as an ‘officeholder’ for the City of Rio de Janeiro in the mental health field. I work two days a week attending patients and their families.
“Brazil is the country in South America with the biggest number of COVID-19 cases. We are in quarantine and the use of masks is mandatory. The President wants to end the quarantine but the state governors, and the mayors, decided to keep the quarantine, to cancel all schools, and commerce.
“I live by myself and sometimes I’m very lonely, but each day I become more spiritual. I think the crisis will last 2 more years. It will be a long road for humans to become more spiritual, less materialistic, more aware of health, the environment and the importance of governments to provide healthcare and education for free; and create effective policies of for employment, income and housing.
“I think Capitalism has come to an end, and that the COVID-19 accelerated the process.”
Lisa Saunders: Cabo San Lucas, Mexico / Pagosa Springs,Colorado
I consider Lisa my niece, and she returns the honor by referring to me as her Uncle Deece. Years ago I joined her band Groove Kitchen, where I got to know her and actually discovered the essential Lisa Saunders. A singer extraordinaire, Lisa is performing in Cabo with some of the finest players in the city and has a large following. Geovan Olachea (drummer at Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo for years) and I co-produced her album Infatuation that was recorded in Cabo and Durango, Colorado. I called the blend of musical cultures “Caborado” and Lisa named her band, appropriately – Caborado!
Lisa Saunders, phone & email:“Hola Pagosa Peeps! Lisa Saunders reporting in, and yes… I am still here in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, and have chosen to ride out this crazy unpredictable pandemic here in this beautiful Country. It was really not a hard choice after watching US news ‒ and honestly ‒ it has been pretty calm overall here in the Baja. Cases are still low, but then again… we are about 3 weeks behind the US in terms of how evolved this world-wide changing virus has grown. Here is a little run-down of my experience of all this in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.
“On March 10th, the Mexican Government sent out a Health alert regarding COVD-19 that there was an on-going outbreak and that their were 7 confirmed cases in Mexico. There were still spring breakers in Cabo however, it seemed as though the crowds were thinning out, and quickly. My musical group: Lisa Saunders & the Caborado Band had played its regular Friday night gig at Solomon’s Landing on March 13th to a full house. What a booty-shaking, packed dance floor it was that night! Little did we know that it would be the last music gig we would perform at that venue as Solomon’s stopped all music after that week because of the pandemic. Our next scheduled show was at Tanga Tanga on Thursday, March 19th. It was at that time when the town was beginning to shut down and change literally in a matter of days…
“I remember that last Thursday at Tanga well, as we usually have a full house of music lovers on Thursdays. On that particular Thursday, only a handful of people attended. A strange kind of quiet filled the air as the once bustling, tourist-filled streets of downtown Cabo were all of a sudden hauntingly bare. At that time, at least that week, the Government had not yet closed down the bars and restaurants. There was an advisory that the Mexican government put out stating restaurants could be open, yet they had to practice social distancing: meaning no more than 4 people per table, and the tables had to be distanced 1.5 meters apart from each other, hand sanitizer on all tables, etc. We were sad that our Friday gigs at Solomon’s Landing were now on hold due to the ‘Corona Virus’. However, we were still musically armed and ready to play for our Sunday gig at Sancho’s that was scheduled for the following Sunday, and, as far as we knew, our Thursday Tanga Tanga gig still seemed to be in tact. My Monday nights consisted of sitting in to sing at Mango deck ‒ that too was still a ‘go’.
“In the middle of the virus craze, I was planning to make a quick trip to San Francisco the weekend of March 22nd. We chose not to make the trip, especially after watching the US news. We were not willing to risk being stuck in San Fran and not being able to return to Cabo ‒ it seemed like some kind of ‘border closure’ was on the horizon.
“On Thursday, March 19th we were advised by the Mexican government to home quarantine. Within the week all bars and restaurants were shutting down or only doing delivery/take out service. Now it was official that all our music gigs had been canceled until further notice. On March 30th, the Mexican Government declared a national health emergency and began imposing restrictions on all non-essential activities until April 30th.”
Ron Henriquez: Los Angeles, California / Colon, Panama
I’m proud to say that Panama born Ron Henriquez (76) and I are good friends. We’ve kept track for more than 35 years and now, with the pandemic, it’s nice to have him as an older brother. I lived in Panama, and love the country and its people, and that’s what brought us together – plus he liked my drumming. Ron was in several Chuck Norris movies including Code of Silence, where he always played the bad guy. In real life, Ron is a perfect gentleman, but he can be tough! Ron was a welterweight and middleweight prize fighter and is a close friend of Roberto Duran.
Ron wrote: “Dear Brother DC, As I told you, I’m computer illiterate. I’m old fashioned. I still prefer to call you on the phone, send birthday cards, write letters… As to our conversation: Yes! What’s going on is scary.”
Ron Henriquez, phone & text: “I volunteered as a US Marine to go to Vietnam on three occasions, because I was told in Boot Camp: ‘We must go to Vietnam and kill them commies over there so we don’t have to fight them on the streets of LA one day.’
“Read that paragraph aloud to yourself, especially in the early sixties. I’m afraid of what we are leaving for our children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. What our leader does was called treason at one time. He’s in bed with Putin, North Korea, he insults our allies, he bad mouths our high officials, CIA, FBI, fires everybody and anybody that disagrees with him, disrespects every woman that questions his lies – thousands of lies ‒ especially if she is Black or Latina or Asian.
“I see the beginning of another Hitler, Mussolini, Francisco Franco, Papa Doc Duvallier, Fidel and Raul Castro, Idi Amin, Rafael Leonidas Trujillo, etc.
“He incites: ‘Beat the hell out of them, I’ll bail you out, I’ll pardon you!’ I can see many of these followers crying their eyes out when the truth kicks them in the butt. ‘I didn’t think he would double-cross us.’ With him it’s me, me, me and only me! Nobody else matters. An egomaniac, megalomaniac: ‘I am the only one that matters.’ Corrupt… corrupt… corrupt.
“USA as we know it is over – it’s all about Trumpmania.”
Dale McFarland: Dallas, Texas
My friend Dale and I have been playing music together since we were kids in the early sixties. We started playing professionally in a trio at a restaurant, but then life got in the way: I ended up in the US Army in 1969 and Dale went off to college at University of Iowa at Iowa City. For years, Dale was the publisher/editor of Texas Jazz News, but now he is one of the most sought after pianists in the city. We have kept in close touch over the years and I’ve stayed at Dale’s bachelor pad many times while visiting in Dallas, catching him at the Balcony Club or Dallas’ Deep Ellum playing his true love – Jazz. Once upon a time, we had thought about forming a musical comedy act and now kick each other in the keister for not having done so. Oh well, here he is . . .
Dale McFarland, phone & email: “I just got back from a quick trip to the grocery store which, according to my odometer, is 6-tenths of a mile from my house. (I’d walk, but it’s warming up quickly here in Texas and I wouldn’t want my TV dinners to melt before I got home.) My local market is the only place I’ve ventured to since mid-February. And let me tell you, it’s pretty annoying that gas prices here are down to $1.29 a gallon and my tank is still sitting on ‘FULL’ from when I topped it off months ago.
“As you might have guessed by my use of the archaic term ‘TV dinners’, I’m an old geezer. I’ve discovered that wearing a face mask when I go out means I don’t need to put my teeth in. I’m actually in the demographic our beloved Lt. Governor Dan Patrick says should sacrifice ourselves so the wheels of industry can keep turning. To which I say: ‘After you, sir. In fact, why don’t you take some time off and go to Las Vegas? You’ve certainly earned it’. But I digress.
“I’m one of the more non-essential people you’ll ever meet: I’m a musician. Perhaps a poet is more non-essential, but that’s debatable since I perform what’s known as The Great American Song Book – music from the 20s, 30s and 40s …predating even TV dinners! The majority of my gigs were at retirement communities and restaurants catering to older clientele. So as you can imagine, my phone stopped ringing.
“But I’m not complaining. I really do consider myself extremely lucky. My lifestyle is fairly Spartan. I have some savings tucked away. And a while ago, I started receiving Social Security, which is providing a much-needed safety net. Sheltering in place hasn’t been so drastically different from my life in The Before Times.
“Well, I confess I’m watching more television. I do try to avoid the news channels, which are pretty much Coronavirus all the time. But even the commercials beat you over the head with syrupy music and words of comfort and caring. Let us brighten your stay at home with our beautiful aluminum siding. Americans are sticking together but nothing sticks to this amazing copper cookware! Or how about a new pickup truck with no money down and no payments until 2022? Great! Then I’ll truly enjoy driving that 6-tenths of a mile to buy toilet paper!
“My eternal gratitude to all the folks ‘on the front lines’ who are over-worked and under-paid. I hope humans will make the world a better place when all this is behind us. But honestly, I doubt it. In the mean time, I’ll be wearing my mask and washing my hands. Maybe I’ll even write a poem.”
DC has been a frustrated musician for over fifty years, and now has decided to become a frustrated writer. Learn more at DCDuncan.com. He’ll keep you posted.