It’s Great To Be Alive

I’m listening to XRT this morning.

I haven’t done that for years. Not a slight to “Chicago’s Finest Rock” either, I switched to satellite radio a while back for my main listening and from there, a few years ago I started listening mostly to streamed music. Mainly since it gave me (within reason) full control over what, and who, (whom?) I listened to. Admittedly, I missed XRT, but not enough to go out of my way to listen to it. I think maybe I missed the on-air talent as much as anything, although I can’t go any further without acknowledging that a very large part of my current tastes in music was developed, nurtured, and curated, by WXRT. I don’t remember exactly when I started listening, but my best guess is somewhere around 1976 or 1977, so people like Garry Lee Wright, Johnny Mars, Bobby Skafish, Tom Marker, Frank E. Lee, geez there’s so many more. Of course no list of XRT DJ’s would be complete without the inimitable Terri Hemmert, everyone’s favorite Aunt Terri. So many different voices helping to form my taste in music.

But today’s post isn’t about them. It’s only superficially about me. Rather, today I want to write about your best friend in the whole world, at least if you listened to WXRT any time over the last 30+ years. Lin Brehmer. Lin passed away yesterday, prostate cancer taking him far too soon.

In the 24 or so hours since I got the text from Ryan alerting me to Lin’s passing I’ve spent a lot of time reading tributes to Lin, so many beautiful, heartfelt words from those that knew him, knew him as more than a voice on the radio, but as a friend, coworker, or mentor. They are far more qualified to express their thoughts and process their emotions on the man than I am. I don’t say that to diminish my feelings, only to contextualize what I’m trying to say. A voice on the radio is the only way I knew Lin, and, theoretically at least, I shouldn’t feel his passing as much as I do given the nature of our “relationship”. After all, he was “only” one of the voices accompanying me down life’s highway, literally and figuratively, for many years.

I feel like I have so much more to say here, but instead I’m going to do two things- I’ve mentioned here before that I sometimes feel wholly inadequate as a writer when I listen to lyrics by songwriters I admire, Lin, through his 20 year long segment “Lin’s Bin” wherein he would answer readers emails, as well as in many other ways, was incredibly gifted with words. So I want to add a postscript in the form of one of his beautifully eloquent answers. Here, from the XRT Facebook page, are Lin’s own words. I’m gutted.

Is it still great to be alive?

What is my inheritance? What have my ancestors left for me? They have left those voices in the dark that ask questions, my own voices in the middle of the night when the mind spins slightly off its axis and wobbles like a spinning top about to roll over on its side. 
Is it still great to be alive? A delicate question subject to the eloquence of the ages.

“For in that sleep of death what dreams may come. When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there’s the respect that makes calamity of so long a life.”

And yet we can say it out loud. 

It’s great to be alive.

Affirmation is so much easier in a convertible with the top down.
Celebration comes naturally in the robustness of our younger years.
Optimism is a dish best served with extra appetizers to share.
Great to be alive.

How does this phrase sound to the people living on the fringes?
Living on the street. People who survive against all odds.
What is so great about alive?

Is it still great to be alive?
This question stirs the guilt we feel when we attempt to rejoice among the ruins of civilization.
So better to joke about it.
Better to sing about it.

For the thoughtful, this is an awkward question.
Some have said that It’s great to be alive is not something they would ordinarily say.
Me either. But these are not ordinary times. And they never were.

Are we shaken from our brighter purpose by the unspooling tragedies that start as a ten word tweet and grow into a news story with full team coverage and a regenerating youtube video? Sadness that proliferates like the head of the Hydra.
These events that amplify our own misery and doubt.

When the noted social critic Frank Zappa stood on a stage to announce that it is great to be alive, it might have seemed sarcastic. 

“It’s so f$%&*g great to be alive is what the theme of our show is tonight, boys and girls. And I want to tell you, if there is anybody here who doesn’t believe that it is f$%&*g great to be alive, I wish they would go now because this show will bring them down so much.”

Life is so much clearer with a guitar in your arms.
But the truly cynical observer will remind us that it is always more poetic to reject life when you’re not fighting for your own. If it’s only pretty good to be alive, we should wonder at the young and the old who struggle to breathe.

Some of us are tempted to give up. Instinct is strong but not unshakeable.

In the absence of certitude, we make choices. I’ve made mine.
Is it still great to be alive?
Actually, no.

It’s f$%&*g great to be alive.

That last line was one of the taglines Lin will leave with us.

I’m going to leave this for now but, before I go, I want to encourage you to tune in to WXRT 93.1 FM if you’re in the Chicago area, if you’re like me and somewhere else in the world, you can stream that at, for example the Audacy app or likely any number of other streaming options. Regadless how you do it, you should listen in as the station pays tribute to one of the good ones.

Rest In Peace Lin. From one of your many best friends in the whole world.

Peace