Just a Little Respect

Because I'm a media historian and a former broadcaster, I tend to save memorabilia, especially items related to my career. I've got old top-40 surveys from the 1950s (when I first realized I wanted to be a deejay); album rock surveys I created when I became music director at my college station in late 1968; and various other items from the stations where I worked in the 1970s, 1980s, etc. And as you might expect, I have lots of memorabilia related to the 50 years that I've known Rush-- including a large collection of the newspaper and magazine reviews that rock critics gave their shows.  

Suffice it to say that most of the reviews the band got in the 70s and 80s were negative. Many critics hated Geddy's voice, thought the band was "pretentious" or "derivative," and mocked the devoted (and growing) fan base the band had. Needless to say, I was not amused by any of this. I thought the criticism was unfair, and I thought the mockery was unwarranted. (One critic, who thought he was being clever, said he'd rather have a root canal than listen to a Rush concert.) So, I frequently called up some of the critics, and though I doubt I won them over, I hope I at least mounted a good defense for why Rush mattered so much to so many fans. 

Among the folks who really disliked Rush back then were the critics at Rolling Stone, a very influential music magazine; I was told even Jann Wenner himself hated the band, and when they were eligible to be considered for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, he was opposed and so were the judges. And so it was that year after year, Rush never got a fair hearing and never got taken seriously-- no matter how many albums they sold or how large the venues they played or how enthusiastic their fans were, the critics dismissed Rush. And over the years, I called, I wrote letters, and in the online era, I sent emails, trying to get to the decision-makers, trying to make them see that Rush deserved to be considered. (Although the Rock Hall judges were supposed to be anonymous, some of us suspected we knew who at least a few of them were.) 

Frustration set in. Alex and Geddy and Neil told me they didn't mind not being inducted, but I suspected it irritated them as much as it irritated me. (And it certainly irritated the fans.) Determined to do something, several fans-- most notably two brothers from St. Louis, Kevin and Keith Purdy, worked with me to get Rush some much-deserved recognition: we proposed them for a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Contrary to myth, it's not an easy process, and no, not everyone gets a star. But with the cooperation of their management, we made an excellent case. And on June 25, 2010, Rush got their star on the Walk of Fame.

Perhaps you were there. I was asked by Rush's management (led by the late, great Pegi Cecconi) to give a brief talk just before they received their star. Billy Corgan of Smashing Pumpkins gave one too. It was such a wonderful day, and one that I will never forget. Neil couldn't attend (but some of his family members did). Geddy and Alex seemed genuinely moved by my little introductory speech. And Neil's friend Craig was there, taking some photos, including this one.      

In the end, a new group of Rock Hall judges came on board, and several years later, Rush DID get inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, as they should have. But for me and for the fans who had believed in Rush for so long, that star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame was our way of showing how much we loved and admired this band; and to this day, it remains a symbol of the respect we have for their music, and a sign of the seminal role Rush has played in our lives.

Knowing When to Let Go

When I was working at WMMS in Cleveland, I fell in love with a guy who was a record promoter. He was charming, a good conversationalist, and we had a lot of interests in common. Unfortunately for me, he worked in New York, in that era before the internet, before Zoom, and even before cheap long distance telephone calls. So, we were only able to call each other a few times a week; we also kept in touch by letter (I still remember hurrying to the post office to get a letter into the mail-- there was a midnight pick-up back then, and if you were lucky, your letter would get to New York in only two days). Needless to say, I was delighted when I got a new job in New York in mid-1975: it paid more money than I made at WMMS, but it also meant I could be near the guy I cared about. 

What I didn't know was that he was an alcoholic. Yes, he had told me he used to drink, but he also told me that he didn't do it much anymore, and once we were together, he wouldn't do it at all. None of this was true, as I found out the hard way. Today, I understand that alcoholism, like drug addiction, is a disease, and it's a disease of denial: few people who have it want to admit it, and so they claim they can stop at any time. Or they insist they have good reasons for doing it-- they only do it when they get lonely; or they do it because hate their job; or they do it because everyone else is doing it and they don't want to stand out. There's always some excuse, but it's never their fault. And when the addict or alcoholic makes one more promise they can't keep, or tells one more lie, or disappoints you one more time, or tells you it's somehow your fault, it's often the family members or the romantic partner who have to deal with the emotional damage.         

I can't tell you how many times he promised to change. And he did quit drinking for a while. But being with him was a roller coaster ride: some days, it was amazing, some days it was frightening, and I never knew which it would be. At its best, we had a lot of fun together-- we went to concerts, restaurants, movies, even Wrestlemania. But at its worst, it was like walking on egg shells. Something would set him off and he'd start blaming me for every problem in his life (and threatening to drink, which, of course, he said would be my fault too). I was unfamiliar with much of this. I don't drink or smoke or do drugs. I loved him, but the mood swings frightened me, and I worried that he really would go back to drinking. 

So, I began to attend Al-Anon (one of the best moves I ever made, because I learned the "3 Cs": you didn't cause his disease, you can't cure his disease, you can't control his disease. In other words, no matter what he says, his commitment to his sobriety is up to him. If he's not ready, you can't make him quit. And if he chooses not to get treatment, you are not to blame). Eventually, I realized that as much as I loved him, I couldn't continue: all the drama was putting my own health in jeopardy. Ending the relationship was the hardest thing I ever did. And despite the ups and downs, I still loved him for a long time afterwards. Eventually, I made peace with my decision, and looking back on it, I know I did the right thing. 

What brought all this to mind was the online reaction I saw to Hunter Biden's legal troubles. No, this is not a defense of Hunter, nor is any of this partisan, because that's my point: addiction to drugs or alcohol isn't partisan. It can strike Democrats, Republicans, or Independents-- and it does. Some folks were mocking Hunter and saying he should have just quit doing drugs. Agreed. And my ex-boyfriend should have quit drinking. But as I said, it's a disease: it's a compulsion, not a lifestyle choice. Those who have it often wish they could stop, but they can't. They deny, they make excuses, they feel guilty, they apologize, that's all part of their illness. If they get treatment and commit to staying clean, they can turn their life around. Hunter says he has done that, and I hope he's telling the truth. I know many people who have not made that commitment, and the people who love them are desperate to see them make better choices.

Based on the reactions I've been seeing over the past week, a lot of folks still have misconceptions about addiction; they seem to think all the addict needs is willpower; or they think of addiction like some weakness or defect. It's not. It's a disease, and it requires a commitment, and a plan, to get better. Meanwhile, if you are reading this and nodding because you are in a relationship with someone who is addicted to drugs or alcohol, please know that it is NOT your fault. If possible, get some support for yourself, whether through therapy or Al-Anon or some other self-help group with a good track record. In the end, your story may have a happy ending; but then, you may have to walk away, in order to preserve your own health. That's a hard lesson to learn, but it's an important one: sometimes, it's best to focus on your own well-being, and not spend your time trying to rescue the person you love.