I have never been to New Orleans and feel I will appreciate its nuances better for having read this. Thank you. David Carr's book sounds harrowing, but I may just have to read it to get a glimpse into the lives of some. A reminder again to focus on the positive in my life and be grateful.
A gentle remembrance. I am hopelessly attached to New Orleans, a city where I could always be me and no one judged. My DNA thrives on rich food, booze, music, pimps, hookers, dancing and friendships. Those smells? It's freedom. My years there when I was so immature were the best. I still have memories of those street preachers on Canal Street trying to save lost souls-including mine.
I had a seventh grade English teacher in East Orange who believed in me and was a dear friend and a mentor. He had a daughter, Muffy whom I befriended. I recall that in 1973 or 1974 or so, Muffy invited me to a rock concert by a local cover band in the MSD gym. It was very dark in there, and very loud, and I was standing throughout, and I totally lost track of Muffy. I was hoping the show would end at some point so I could find a pay phone to have my Dad drive out to Caldwell and take me home. The crowd kept incessantly chanting for the band to play '"Smoke On the Water". Finally after the chants reached a fever pitch I heard those familiar opening seven notes. The crowd, which seemed to consist of teenagers a bit older than me, erupted into a frenzy in the darkness. And soon thereafter, the house lights came up and I dialed home.
And while my friendship with Muffy continued, I did not see her any more that night
Jay, I hesitated to include the Caldwell bits, thinking them self-indulgent, but hearing about your night at the Mount with Muffy makes me glad I did. I was a student there in the 1974-75 school year, but I most certainly was not at the concert in the gym. Had I been, I hope we could have found one another. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It seemed a stretch to braid together the story of David Carr's book and a trip to the Crescent City. I am glad that it worked for at least one reader.
Dear Sheila, Thanks again for sharing your thoughts on great books. Typically, as soon as I see your book’s title, I open my phone Libby app and search for an audio version to download. I was happy that In The Night of the Gun had a short waiting list. At first, I was overwhelmed by the length of the audio book at 13 hours 23 minutes. When I started listening, I was even more discouraged. Another book on addiction seemed at first like a chore to listen to. I felt like I had already committed enough listening hours to this topic with two well written impressionable audio books by a father and son. I first listened to the difficult narrative of Beautiful Boy : A Father's Journey Through His Son's Addiction by David Sheff. Secondly, I heard the son’s perspective in the book Tweak by Nic Sheff.
I wanted to have something to write to you Sheila in support of your writing and stuck with the book. I liked how you mentioned your personal connections to David Carr’s writing such as your having lived in New Jersey and your travels to New Orleans. I could relate to the author’s Minnesota background having lived and worked in the Twin Cities from July 1982 to May 1983.
I understand well the cocaine epidemic among white working professionals of the 1980s. My mother-in-law initiated a divorce over her what she suspected was her husband’s very expensive cocaine habit. Thousands of dollars were drained from bank accounts without justification and explanation. The divorce proceedings ended up being nasty and very prolonged. Tom Wolfe’s Bonfire of the Vanities helped me better understand the drug culture that attracted my father-in-law. He was remote and distant from his four sons for many years. Despite having a high paying secure position, he provided very little financial support to the family. On the surface, my husband’s family was an esteemed and professional respected upper-class family in a very wealthy community. Inside the house, I saw financial wreckage and emotional hell. Visits to my husband’s childhood home during those years were often horrible.
In 1986 I received most of my on-the-job training in a as a lab technician from a co-worker who adored her brother’s punk rock band. Many of us at work observed many unexplained absences and sloppiness with lab chemicals and research radioisotopes. I noticed burnt and peeling skin on her hands when she was not wearing latex gloves. I overheard phone conversations suggestive of drug dealing. Towards the end of my maternity leave, my supervisor warned me that my co-worker might ask me for money for drugs. My supervisor was warm hearted and very protective of my sick co-worker. However, emotional and lengthy conversations between my supervisor and the mother of my co-worker suggested the tough love approach might be better. My last contact with my co-worker was a quick chat where she begged me for 5 dollars. I gave her the money and she hurried out of our workspace. I never saw her again.
Over the years I have tried to understand why people destroy their lives and the well-being of everyone around them with drug addiction. David Carr’s book offered me new insight and understanding. Once I got into a few chapters, I had to keep listening. Every chapter was interesting and very well written. I totally get it why the author’s writing skills made him well respected and valued despite his long and intense addiction history. I am glad that I stuck with this book.
I had been really sucked into the stereotype of crack babies. Even with parental bias, the author convinced me that babies born prematurely in a bad situations can thrive and succeed. The parenting stories were amazing and helped me emphasize with the struggles of single parents.
Overall, I feel like I could have enjoyed listening to this audiobook if it was even longer. Sheila, if you feel this posting is too long and too personal, please feel free to edit or delete. Looking forward to reading your next book review and commentary.
So much to say in response. First of all, thank you for commenting publicly. To hear from readers is always affirming in what can be an arguably lonely endeavor. Thank you, always, for your support. A number of readers send me private replies to the essays I write, and while I am grateful, I always experience a tinge of regret that they have not shared their thoughts publicly.
Your reluctance to go down into the hell of yet another account of addiction is understandable. I don't know of the two Sheff books you mentioned, yet as you shared so generously of your own entanglement with addicts, your coworker and your father-in-law, I found myself clinging to every detail.
People and their problems, when rendered honestly, are compelling.
Thank you for the feedback on including the personal (albeit tenuous) connections to Carr. As I wrote to another commenter, I feared those recollections might be self-indulgent, but one of the first lessons I learned as a teacher of reading was "readers make connections to their own lives," so perhaps the instinct was sound. Your comment helps erase some doubt.
I have never been to New Orleans and feel I will appreciate its nuances better for having read this. Thank you. David Carr's book sounds harrowing, but I may just have to read it to get a glimpse into the lives of some. A reminder again to focus on the positive in my life and be grateful.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. You will love New Orleans when you get there.
Hi friend, How refreshing it was to hear your voice again; albeit your writer's voice. You broaden my literary horizons. Keep writing!
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It means the world, coming from you.
A gentle remembrance. I am hopelessly attached to New Orleans, a city where I could always be me and no one judged. My DNA thrives on rich food, booze, music, pimps, hookers, dancing and friendships. Those smells? It's freedom. My years there when I was so immature were the best. I still have memories of those street preachers on Canal Street trying to save lost souls-including mine.
I will read this book because of you.
You have invoked a whole universe in this comment. I treasure it. Thank you.
Thank you for this Sheila.
I had a seventh grade English teacher in East Orange who believed in me and was a dear friend and a mentor. He had a daughter, Muffy whom I befriended. I recall that in 1973 or 1974 or so, Muffy invited me to a rock concert by a local cover band in the MSD gym. It was very dark in there, and very loud, and I was standing throughout, and I totally lost track of Muffy. I was hoping the show would end at some point so I could find a pay phone to have my Dad drive out to Caldwell and take me home. The crowd kept incessantly chanting for the band to play '"Smoke On the Water". Finally after the chants reached a fever pitch I heard those familiar opening seven notes. The crowd, which seemed to consist of teenagers a bit older than me, erupted into a frenzy in the darkness. And soon thereafter, the house lights came up and I dialed home.
And while my friendship with Muffy continued, I did not see her any more that night
Jay, I hesitated to include the Caldwell bits, thinking them self-indulgent, but hearing about your night at the Mount with Muffy makes me glad I did. I was a student there in the 1974-75 school year, but I most certainly was not at the concert in the gym. Had I been, I hope we could have found one another. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Had we found one another there it certainly would have made the whole experience more than worthwhile!
Was right there with you in New Orleans while reading this...interesting and clever lead in to David Carr's memoir....
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It seemed a stretch to braid together the story of David Carr's book and a trip to the Crescent City. I am glad that it worked for at least one reader.
Dear Sheila, Thanks again for sharing your thoughts on great books. Typically, as soon as I see your book’s title, I open my phone Libby app and search for an audio version to download. I was happy that In The Night of the Gun had a short waiting list. At first, I was overwhelmed by the length of the audio book at 13 hours 23 minutes. When I started listening, I was even more discouraged. Another book on addiction seemed at first like a chore to listen to. I felt like I had already committed enough listening hours to this topic with two well written impressionable audio books by a father and son. I first listened to the difficult narrative of Beautiful Boy : A Father's Journey Through His Son's Addiction by David Sheff. Secondly, I heard the son’s perspective in the book Tweak by Nic Sheff.
I wanted to have something to write to you Sheila in support of your writing and stuck with the book. I liked how you mentioned your personal connections to David Carr’s writing such as your having lived in New Jersey and your travels to New Orleans. I could relate to the author’s Minnesota background having lived and worked in the Twin Cities from July 1982 to May 1983.
I understand well the cocaine epidemic among white working professionals of the 1980s. My mother-in-law initiated a divorce over her what she suspected was her husband’s very expensive cocaine habit. Thousands of dollars were drained from bank accounts without justification and explanation. The divorce proceedings ended up being nasty and very prolonged. Tom Wolfe’s Bonfire of the Vanities helped me better understand the drug culture that attracted my father-in-law. He was remote and distant from his four sons for many years. Despite having a high paying secure position, he provided very little financial support to the family. On the surface, my husband’s family was an esteemed and professional respected upper-class family in a very wealthy community. Inside the house, I saw financial wreckage and emotional hell. Visits to my husband’s childhood home during those years were often horrible.
In 1986 I received most of my on-the-job training in a as a lab technician from a co-worker who adored her brother’s punk rock band. Many of us at work observed many unexplained absences and sloppiness with lab chemicals and research radioisotopes. I noticed burnt and peeling skin on her hands when she was not wearing latex gloves. I overheard phone conversations suggestive of drug dealing. Towards the end of my maternity leave, my supervisor warned me that my co-worker might ask me for money for drugs. My supervisor was warm hearted and very protective of my sick co-worker. However, emotional and lengthy conversations between my supervisor and the mother of my co-worker suggested the tough love approach might be better. My last contact with my co-worker was a quick chat where she begged me for 5 dollars. I gave her the money and she hurried out of our workspace. I never saw her again.
Over the years I have tried to understand why people destroy their lives and the well-being of everyone around them with drug addiction. David Carr’s book offered me new insight and understanding. Once I got into a few chapters, I had to keep listening. Every chapter was interesting and very well written. I totally get it why the author’s writing skills made him well respected and valued despite his long and intense addiction history. I am glad that I stuck with this book.
I had been really sucked into the stereotype of crack babies. Even with parental bias, the author convinced me that babies born prematurely in a bad situations can thrive and succeed. The parenting stories were amazing and helped me emphasize with the struggles of single parents.
Overall, I feel like I could have enjoyed listening to this audiobook if it was even longer. Sheila, if you feel this posting is too long and too personal, please feel free to edit or delete. Looking forward to reading your next book review and commentary.
Delete this comment? Never.
So much to say in response. First of all, thank you for commenting publicly. To hear from readers is always affirming in what can be an arguably lonely endeavor. Thank you, always, for your support. A number of readers send me private replies to the essays I write, and while I am grateful, I always experience a tinge of regret that they have not shared their thoughts publicly.
Your reluctance to go down into the hell of yet another account of addiction is understandable. I don't know of the two Sheff books you mentioned, yet as you shared so generously of your own entanglement with addicts, your coworker and your father-in-law, I found myself clinging to every detail.
People and their problems, when rendered honestly, are compelling.
Thank you for the feedback on including the personal (albeit tenuous) connections to Carr. As I wrote to another commenter, I feared those recollections might be self-indulgent, but one of the first lessons I learned as a teacher of reading was "readers make connections to their own lives," so perhaps the instinct was sound. Your comment helps erase some doubt.