Improvisors
Michael is a musical force in his own right, always was. The talent that made Von a sensation at 12 helped Michael stand out at 21.
Entries by Beth Geraci
Remembering Von Freeman
Lincoln Park’s blues scene comes alive in a cool, thumping tantrum of Chicago sound. Belting voices, bottleneck guitars, the melancholy sirens wail all night long in the dives and doorways near DePaul.
No Insurance, No EEG
With his words, Dr. Sullivan had practically said I didn’t have epilepsy. Not because he believed that, but because I did. Pictured the lakefront the previous spring, the reeling, the gravity, the sweat. Nothing had ever felt so final. That’s what made me think it was leading somewhere. It was unfair of me to keep […]
Dr. Sullivan
Dr. Sullivan was the kind of man who’d appreciate an aged Scotch. He had this wry sense of humor and old-school way of being, as if he might refer to women as “broads.” Handsome in an educated way, he carried himself with a refinement that spoke to East Coast credentials. When he laughed, it was […]
Fear
You know why I stopped? Couldn’t make the jump from 200 milligrams to 175. That’s it. That’s the reason. Tapering is a game of Russian roulette. Is the bullet in the chamber? Will you have a seizure? It’s anybody’s guess. Without a doctor telling me I didn’t have epilepsy, my chances of having a […]
Getting Down to It
It was just an experiment. It seemed more an imaginary test than anything I was doing in real life. But every two weeks, I’d drop another dose.
The Bathroom
A gentle hush fell upon the apartment, one as quiet as the moment demanded. All I heard was the pounding of my heart telling me to do it.
A Doctor’s Daughter
Rounds with Dad always started with the car. Six years old, riding shotgun in the 280Z. Metallic blue with racing seats in shoe polish white. Through the shadows of the elms, sunlight falls like confetti. Take in a breath and the scent of lilacs falls too. There’s the jutting of a sprinkler, a lone billowy […]
Two Months
Right away I knew. Of course, you never really know, do you? Not with epilepsy. But I knew. For the first time in eight years, no aura.
Moving On
Dennis came in on a revolving door. It ushered him in. More than a year later, it escorted him out. After New York, I never saw him again.