“Set You Free This Time”
“I have never been so far out in front
That I could ever ask for what I want
And have it, anytime
Knowing this, you found the thought for me
That told you just where I should be
And there I stood behind,
With all the ones that were before
And memories that always seem to tear me
From my mind
It isn’t how it was set up to be
But I’ll set you free this time”
(Gene Clark, used by permission)
I knew him for forty-six days exactly.
My life was pretty hectic in 1991. The record company was exploring new directions, and the workload -- including coast to coast travel -- doubled, then maybe tripled by the end of the year. Having served since late 1989 as National Director of Publicity & Artist Relations, I was promoted to Vice President, Publicity, Artist Relations and Corporate Communications at Private Music which was transitioning, thanks to boss Ronnie and my complicity from a schmaltzy instrumental home for some nice enough players to a bigger-than-boutique with the marketing muscle of a major. So there.
I was watching "Shadowlands" at the Marriott in Scottsdale when Gene called from L.A. to congratulate me on the promotion. Excited like a kid. Like my fan. I just loved that.
the fiftieth & fifty-first days
May 28 & 29, 1991
Dear Gene,
I'm at my desk at the record company this morning, kind of unbelievably, and feeling terribly bewildered. I may be stretching too much to be part of your life now; what I knew for sure about your life is no longer here on earth, you know? I wanted to visit you again today at the mortuary, and I boldly asked, but I must accept their answer which is that they need to get you ready today for the service which I think will be tomorrow. It's such an effort to accept every step of this, every action, every answer.
Now the day is over and it got no less bewildering. And I'm only comforted with the writing of these letters to you.
I've learned today that I don't want to discuss you (anonymously or not) with anyone new. I have several very good and close friends. Andrew, the sensitive, is the most important for talking, of course. Even casual friends (especially the sobers) have been there for me... listening to me, feeding me, making me sleep and work and go to meetings, and do all the right things... behind my relationship still with you. I was escorted into a nail place and didn't realize for hours I had color on my fingers.
And now it has become the next morning. I've missed you all night in my sleep. This morning my intestines are noisy, like they are beginning to work, not like the hungry noise. It's because late last night- - enough. (I can’t talk about food.)
I don't seem to want to give up the real crying part of the grieving for you. My priest gave me a telephone number for a “grief hotline” (smile). Actually, he was wonderful. assuring me that you are exactly where you need to be, at peace and love and light in the palm of the hand of your Higher Power. I, human, keep forgetting you have always had a Higher Power, and need to smile about the fact that it isn't me.
"I know something about love
You've got to want it bad
If that guy's got into your blood
Go out and get him"
(Remember that song, with its eerie, passion, by The Exciters?)
I love you my darling pal. I pray today that I may treat you, myself and all the human beings, with dignity.
Love always,
("We'll be pals forever", you said)
“I have never been so far out in front
That I could ever ask for what I want
And have it, anytime
Knowing this, you found the thought for me
That told you just where I should be
And there I stood behind,
With all the ones that were before
And memories that always seem to tear me
From my mind
It isn’t how it was set up to be
But I’ll set you free this time”
(Gene Clark, used by permission)
I knew him for forty-six days exactly.
My life was pretty hectic in 1991. The record company was exploring new directions, and the workload -- including coast to coast travel -- doubled, then maybe tripled by the end of the year. Having served since late 1989 as National Director of Publicity & Artist Relations, I was promoted to Vice President, Publicity, Artist Relations and Corporate Communications at Private Music which was transitioning, thanks to boss Ronnie and my complicity from a schmaltzy instrumental home for some nice enough players to a bigger-than-boutique with the marketing muscle of a major. So there.
I was watching "Shadowlands" at the Marriott in Scottsdale when Gene called from L.A. to congratulate me on the promotion. Excited like a kid. Like my fan. I just loved that.
the fiftieth & fifty-first days
May 28 & 29, 1991
Dear Gene,
I'm at my desk at the record company this morning, kind of unbelievably, and feeling terribly bewildered. I may be stretching too much to be part of your life now; what I knew for sure about your life is no longer here on earth, you know? I wanted to visit you again today at the mortuary, and I boldly asked, but I must accept their answer which is that they need to get you ready today for the service which I think will be tomorrow. It's such an effort to accept every step of this, every action, every answer.
Now the day is over and it got no less bewildering. And I'm only comforted with the writing of these letters to you.
I've learned today that I don't want to discuss you (anonymously or not) with anyone new. I have several very good and close friends. Andrew, the sensitive, is the most important for talking, of course. Even casual friends (especially the sobers) have been there for me... listening to me, feeding me, making me sleep and work and go to meetings, and do all the right things... behind my relationship still with you. I was escorted into a nail place and didn't realize for hours I had color on my fingers.
And now it has become the next morning. I've missed you all night in my sleep. This morning my intestines are noisy, like they are beginning to work, not like the hungry noise. It's because late last night- - enough. (I can’t talk about food.)
I don't seem to want to give up the real crying part of the grieving for you. My priest gave me a telephone number for a “grief hotline” (smile). Actually, he was wonderful. assuring me that you are exactly where you need to be, at peace and love and light in the palm of the hand of your Higher Power. I, human, keep forgetting you have always had a Higher Power, and need to smile about the fact that it isn't me.
"I know something about love
You've got to want it bad
If that guy's got into your blood
Go out and get him"
(Remember that song, with its eerie, passion, by The Exciters?)
I love you my darling pal. I pray today that I may treat you, myself and all the human beings, with dignity.
Love always,
("We'll be pals forever", you said)
Karen xx oo
- Karen Colaianni Johnson ©1991
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