What I've Learned Today

First: Like Sam Nunn, I'm going to have problems falling asleep each night after reading this.

Second: He's a good guy, but I'm afraid Stan Heath's days are numbered.

Finally: Iggy Pop (above) stole my look. Bastard.

As The Nutt Turns

Now Sports Illustrated has chimed in about the soap opera that is Arkansas football.

I just hope Houston doesn't shave his head and start busting SUVs with umbrellas after he reads it.

Kidney Problems

Here, in a slightly altered yet more complete version, is my column for this week's Arkansas Weekly.

Enjoy.

In late 2005, Art Buchwald, the Pulitzer Prize-winning Washington humorist, realized his kidneys were failing. At the time, his doctors and family insisted he immediately begin dialysis treatment. Instead, he opted to let nature take its course. In early 2006, he moved into a hospice, and with a steady stream of family and friends visiting, decided to begin his goodbyes.

The prognosis was three weeks to live.

Three months later, Buchwald was still enjoying visitors. About seven or eight months down the line, Buchwald left the hospice, alive and kicking -- a medical miracle.

Before we get too happy, it must be said that Buchwald finally succumbed to his kidney problems. Yet before he died at his son’s home earlier this year, Buchwald managed to write a book about his unexpected encore.

It was that book, Too Soon To Say Goodbye, I was reading when – speak of the devil -- my right kidney decided to revolt.

Well, I wasn’t reading the book exactly when my kidney revolted…I was actually at my desk, around 9:20 on a Monday morning, when it felt as if someone had kicked me in the side.

The pain lasted through the day until I finally hit the emergency room late that evening. Some pain meds helped through the night and the next day, and then after some tests, the doctors surmised a blood clot had hit my right kidney that Monday morning, causing my extreme discomfort.

So, for the first time since I was three years old, I entered a hospital as a patient. In quick succession, I had a gown with no back, an I.V. pumping me full of medicine, and a nifty bed I could move up and down by the punch of a button.

But, any type of playfulness was already quite subdued by my pain and med-induced grogginess. All I wanted was sleep while the nurses and doctors planned my recovery.

I had, in the parlance of one of my doctors, a kidney attack – the same thing as a heart attack: a clog in the plumbing resulting in the partial shutdown of one of my major organs.

Of course, now we need to know what caused the blood clot, so I’m on some blood thinning medicine and will likely have to see some other docs in Little Rock in a week or so, but I’m out of the hospital and moving very slowly.

Recovering has been odd; it’s as if my body has been through a heart attack, I suppose. The most mundane tasks can tire me quickly, but I can slowly feel my strength build each day, and thanks to the most generous friends and family, I’ve been very well-fed.

You know, I do enjoy the attention and the food a health scare brings, but of course, I would be insane to wish this on anyone else. And really, my clot-in-the-kidney thing is nowhere near as traumatic or serious as other problems that could affect me, so I do count my blessings. All of this has left me with a heavy sense of humility and made me appreciate those with much more serious health dilemmas.

Finally, I must say this: my experience at White River Medical Center was top-notch. All of the nurses, aides, doctors, etc. were helpful and extremely comforting. I cannot say enough about their hospitality and concern. Thank you.

One item regarding my health problem I don’t particularly enjoy is the fact that I have to inject myself with blood thinners twice a day.

Inject is not a verb I enjoy when it applies to me.

I’ve always hated needles, and giving myself shots twice a day in my belly is not fun – particularly since my rock-hard abdomen has the habit of bending the needles.

Kidding.

Actually, one of the kind WRMC nurses gave me a crash course in giving myself the injections, and they’ve been relatively painless.

And, Heaven knows, I have plenty of blubber in my tummy to cushion the needle.

Mr. Pete Returns

America's finest and most under-appreciated living writer has released a mesmerizing collection of essays and previously published newspaper columns entitled Paper Trails.

It is, without a doubt, the best book I've read in the past five years.

You. Buy now. Support great lit and a writer who deserves more respect and attention than he gets.

More on this wonderful work later...

Holy Moly!

During my recovery from a health scare, I came across this.

I don't give a flying fruck what anyone says, The Killers are the real deal. Now, they've gone and covered my all-time favorite Dire Straits tune.

Where's an MP3 of this thing?!?

Sigh

Hey: posts will be few for a week or three.

I've been in the hospital.

I'm fine -- thanks to a wonderful crew of doctors, nurses, friends and family.

But, I'm still trying to mend and rest, so...there we be.

Thanks!

Lucero in Batesville

Saturday night, Memphis-based band Lucero returned to Batesville for a show at the University of Arkansas Community College's Independence Hall. The group, which is getting ready to head to Spain for a tour, has a local following that could best be described as insanely rabid. Over 1,400 tickets sold, kids pressed tight to the stage, singing along to every song, a never-ending crowd at the merch table...

They've played the late and lamented CBGBs in NYC and just came off a sold-out New Year's Eve performance with the No. Mississippi All-Stars as a co-headliner at the Orpheum in Memphis, but the backstage scuttlebutt Saturday night was that this was the largest crowd for which the band had ever played as a headline act.

I'm puzzled as to why the band hasn't broken through on a national level. They have a fan base across the land (two believers even made the trek from Berkeley, CA to the Batesville performance -- culture shock, anyone?), a national record deal (albeit on a smaller label), and a solid new album produced by David Lowery of Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker fame. Someone asked me last night to best describe their sound, and the only thing that hit me was Springsteen by way of Nirvana -- which is completely wrong. Perhaps I was grasping for recognizable names . A more apt comparison would be Marah by way of Steve Earle.

Regardless -- the band blazed through a rowdy and raw set with a vigor that lent the already stout songs an extra dose of authenticity and gravity. This stuff is powerful rock begging for a wider appreciation.

And I'm begging to learn how to use a flash for my camera...