Sunday, November 06, 2005

Just another adolescent fantasy ... and one for the fellahs.

The Musical Box - not Gabriel-era Genesis, but an incredible simulation!!! - played the Allen Theatre tonight, and I was there. Woo. This season they are performing a 30th Anniversary recreation of the original 1974-75 tour of The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway.

Because, yes, in high school I was the biggest Genesis fan. Ever. I am no longer the coolest guy you know. And apparently, I never was.

So this band does old, old Genesis, the Peter Gabriel stuff, uhm, the only actually good stuff. If you're into that. Old, sit down, nod your head a little, arty, "progressive rock" kind of stuff. And they are surprisingly talented at it.

I tried to feign outsider status, judging the rest of the sold-out crowd who attended. I mean, who the hell would pay good money to see this, heh? Not all the guys were over fifty - though all of the women were. Both of them. We got excellent seats, front row, lower balcony. Looking down, I'd never seen so many bald heads at a rock show before, and I couldn't see mine.

When I say we, I mean me and Josh. I told Toni I wanted to see this and she was very kind. But no way in hell would be come with me, if she could.

But how was the show? It was very enjoyable. The guy playing Gabriel does a stunning impersonation ... even if he is at least fifteen years too old for the part. Gabriel took his shirt off a lot in the show (I've seen photos) and at 25, he looked pretty good. This guy needs to join me in laying off the doughnuts.

I would have said the show was excellent (the drummer, the "Phil Collins" part, was outstanding - he even plays left-handed) only the slides went out halfway through the show. I didn't realize how much I was enjoying the slides, and how much they contributed to the experience, until they were gone. They came back for the end, only one projector was still knocked out, which was distracting.

I got over my irritation when I decided this was just another part of the 70s art-rock show experience; things going wrong with the tech.

Thank you, Kristen!

Speaking of tech, here is a photo from my MetroHealth performance in May:



And from last month:



Notice any difference? Yes, you could SEE MY FACE in the October performances. Mille grazie to Kristen F., not only for arranging the October performances at MetroHealth, but for being our champion in making sure that there was front-lighting. Oh, and thanks for the photos!

One for the Fellahs

I got a lot of stuff on my I Hate This page, some of which is valuable to people who have found the page looking for comfort, advice, sanity, what have you. And a lot of it is trivia, material of interest to those who want to know how one goes about constructing a solo performance based on the worst thing that ever happened to them.

What I have avoided, probably due to the weight of such an undertaking, is providing any direct advice. I'm not a therapist, only a survivor. And an artist - I am much more acclimated to saying, "Watch the show, draw you own conclusions."

At the first MetroHealth perf., the Q&A began with a doctor asking, sincerely, earnestly, "What should we say or do for someone who has just lost a child?" I had an answer for that.

At Akron a day later, the Q&A started (after an awkward silence) by a nurse asking, "Well, you've told us all the wrong things to say, what are we supposed to say?" I had an answer for that, too. I think it was the same answer, at least the words were the same, even if I wasn't, as you might imagine, a bit more defensive.

Recently some friends of ours had a miscarriage, and it is causing some problems. I believe the pregnancy was eight weeks along. It happened in the middle of the night, they did not even go to the hospital.

Early tests had suggested it was going to be a difficult pregnancy, if it even continued for much longer. Maybe this is a familiar story. And the outcome, the disconnect between the two of them, might also be something you can imagine.

As events fell out, I was with him yesterday morning, while Toni was with her. And now we know what was already pretty obvious. She is very upset, and he was oblivious of that fact. Okay, maybe he wasn't, but he wanted to be.

His story is that since it didn't look good at the outset, he was ready for the pregnancy to be "unviable," was not surprised when it ended, and was relieved when she didn't want to talk about.

Her story ... well, you can guess her story. And you can guess how she was coping with the silence.

I found myself being surprisingly direct with him yesterday. As though I know everything about the subject. But I do know a lot more than he does. Most of these blogs are written by women, not only because it "happened to them" but because there is never enough talk going on about their children, their pain, anger, frustration, helplessness.

And a lot of that is the husband's fault. I know there's a lot of supportive guys out there. But I also have the impression that there aren't enough.

So I am going to put a letter to The Guys on my site. I think I know what to say in it, but I would value additional input. As the doctor asked, "What should we say or do?" Anyone who wants to pitch in, either leave a comment or email me at pengo (at) davidhansen (dot) org. I would really, really appreciate it.

4 comments:

cat said...

I'm not sure if there is anything you can say except "I love you" if you are close to the person and "I'm here". And then really be there... listen and talk, express and accept. It took months for me to pull out the true emotions my husband was feeling and it made me feel better to know we were not apart or each alone in that journey but actually on the same side looking out at the world. Also acknowledging that our feelings were sometimes different and accepting that we were each entitled to them whatever they were helped.

Sometimes a list of what not to say is best and it sounds like you got that down. It astounds me what medical professionals do say. Like a nurse saying to us. "Oh you are the third couple I dealt with today." With a wave of her arm and a dismissive look. Saying to us... your pain is routine, nothing... invalid.

Thank you for doing your show... maybe some will really hear you and learn.

laura said...

you're a good egg, david hansen, even if you are a genesis-geek, and your story about your friends makes me grateful to have the partner i do. i hope these friends work it out.

for what it's worth, i still think the lack of front-lighting in may worked for you; it made the performance incredibly intimate, like we the audience were right there with you, beside toni's bed, in a room dimmed for grief.

lorem ipsum said...

The hardest part about my miscarriage experiences was hearing both my husband and my father cry when they learned the news. The second was the worst, because we'd figured the first was a fluke. But then, sometimes it's like my husband forgets. If I'm sad after going Christmas shopping with his mom (who has two other grandkids whom she spoils rotten), he says, 'Why?' If there's a kid crying on the tv show he's watching and I tell him to turn it down because it's making me upset, it takes him awhile to understand.

Guys aren't the 'host' and so out of sight, out of mind. So if anything, whether it be stillbirth or miscarriage, I'd ask that you advise the guys in our lives to be aware. To them, it left our bodies and was carted away. Problem fixed, as it were. But it really wasn't fixed. My husband's not the handiest of men, but I think somewhere in there is some truth about guys wanting to 'fix' things. And someone else fixed it for him - nature, or the doctor. So an acknowledgment of the emotional side of it too. And if we want to keep the cards and letters people send us, don't take offense. Out of sight, out of mind. But for us women, it's never out of mind, and having things like that in sight remind us that we aren't alone, even though those men closest to us sometimes inadvertently make us feel that way.

Thank you for all you do.

grumpyABDadjunct said...

First, you are an uber-geek! And I love you for it.

Second, I know that I am blessed with an extremely unusual male partner because dbp is openly emotional and has been very open about everything to do with the miscarriage and deadbaby. So I don't buy that men are 'one way' and women are 'another way' and I wish there was more focus on how individuals are coping, or not, instead of their gender. And more said about how everyone around the parents should be dealing. But by all means start with this!

That being said I am more than willing to acknowledge that men and women have well-learned and therefore deeply ingrained cultural patterns for dealing with things. I think point this out to people is important, and so saying to men something like "you know, our culture doesn't really encourage men to express their feelings of grief but it really is okay for you to do so." This might get the messages across without the defensive reactions that might result from a "what the feck is wrong with you? Be emotional and support your partner" approach.

I also think a lot of men see other people (mainly women) doing 'grief work' around them and either feel like they are off the hook or that they aren't allowed to participate; this is of course wrong but since emotional work is often seen as in the female domain not unexpected. And then there are real idiots (of both sexes/genders) who just want to deny, deny, deny and they should be confronted directly by someone who can tell them that they aren't dealing and that they should or they'll really regret it.

My two cents for the moment!