Glen Campbell has Alzheimer's

I'm not really sure who finds Alzheimer's to be a HI-LARIOUS topic. Maybe the clinically perverse. Or the writers from "Family Guy."

As someone whose dealt with this personally, this is hardly a gut-busting topic.

 

Given his well documented coke and alcohol problems that certainly could have been a possibility back in the late 70's / early 80's.

 

Up until a few years ago he was still getting shitfaced drunk and driving into stuff.

Sad. Hugely talented guy, but he made a mess of a huge chunk of his life, and now this.

Several years ago he came into the TV station where I was working to do a live satellite interview with a show in Australia. He was sitting, holding a guitar, waiting for the interview to start. Suddenly he starts strumming the guitar and belts out "Like a rhinestone cowboy, ridin' out on a horse in a star spangled.." and then yawned, scratched his chin, checked his watch, and went back to just sitting. Just a surreal thing to see.

 

I saw Glen on one of the morning shows (GMA or Today or one of them) a few years ago and he was sitting on a stool and doing acoustic stuff during breaks.
Looked like he was trying to make a comeback from some pretty rough personal stuff.
He's certainly been through a lot since the original True Grit, which wife and I watched also, Liut, a day or two ago on DirecTV.

 

As someone who watched his grandfather, a man who was a surrogate father to him after his father died when he was five, die an eight year death from this disease, I can say that the disease itself is a fucking bitch. I dont wish it on anyone and have given everyone around me very specific instructions to shoot me in the back of the head if I'm ever diagnosed with it. To spend an hour with someone who raised you, then hear that person say to your grandmother as you leave, "who the hell was that?" is heartbreaking.

That said, you get two options with shit like this: you wring your hands, cry and say "woe is us" or you make jokes about it. Just keep in mind no problem has ever been solved with hand-wringing.

I remember one summer vacation in particular. My mom and aunt were in denial about what was really wrong. They had hoped he was just getting old and forgetful. That hope was pissed all over in 1989 when we did a family vacation from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia, by car, to see my aunt and uncle; his brother and sister in law. For five hours, every 10 minutes, "WHERE THE HELL ARE WE? HOW MUCH FURTHER? THREE HOURS? AWWW JESUS CHRIST!!!" The whole way to Philadelphia. The entire way BACK from Philadelphia. Did I mention we were in a 1984 Chevrolet Cavalier hatchback. Four people, one fuckin tiny car. We didn't even get the luxury of spreading out in an Oldsmobile or Mercury or some shit.

The ride home was painfully brutal, as there was an accident on the Pennsylvania Turnpike that shut down both westbound lanes. Now its "where the hell are we?" and "Why the hell are we not moving?" This, again, was every 10 minutes, for five hours, like clockwork. Well, until we got off the Turnpike in Pittsburgh and it was, "I know where we are. We're home."

After we dropped them off my mother, very much looking defeated, and I, climbed back into that silver piece of shit of a car to head back to our home. The minute she turned the key to start the engine, call is adolescence, I looked at her and said, "WHERE THE HELL ARE WE GOING?" It was the first time I'd ever seen someone burst of laughing and crying at the same time. We both needed it.

So, in closing, fuck this disease with Easy E's dick, but sometimes you just gotta' laugh at that which you can not beat.

 

Somewhere outside Nashville tonight, Tanya Tucker is smirking with joy.

 

The guy can play a guitar. I remember how surprised I was when I learned that he used to play with The Beach Boys, and before that was one of the top session guitarists in L.A. with "The Wrecking Crew."

 

In a somewhat related news story, Jimmy Hyams still thinks Phil Fulmer can still be an amazing coach or ath-a-letic director somewhere where the skids are already greased for winning.

 

I know Glen Campbell's personal life was a wreck, but I enjoyed his music. He had some great songs in the 70s.

He's the only "crossover" country star I liked.

Alzheimer's is a tough sentence -- especially for the people who love and care for him.

 

I remember one DJ who vowed not to play another Glen Campbell song until he gave Mack Davis back his wife ...

And Madator, I'm with ya. Had a grandmother who lived out her life in a couple of long-term care homes. Still remember one visit after I'd moved out of state where, every 10-15 minutes, I was asked "what do you like about Arizona." Went from "the weather is nice" to "the people are nice" to "regular paychecks" and [/billmurray] it just didn't matter ...

 

My grandfather passed away from this disease just a year ago yesterday. To have someone that I cared for so much and influenced me like he did get to the point where he had no idea who the hell you are is one of the worst things I've had to deal with. His mother, who I was also very close to, died the same way.

I've said that if I get Alzheimer's, I'm grabbing a gun, a knife and some food and heading off into the wilderness, never to return. Like Brad Pitt's character in Legends of the Fall. "It was a good death." Better to die on your feet than in a bed with no memory of what you've done.

 

What happens when you head off into the wilderness, forget why you're out there, and instinctively find your way home?