Good morning, all! I stayed up way too late, and I will leave around 9:30 to visit Joshie at City Center.
When i get home, I will work on my orchestration. I need to finish it tomorrow.
Five years ago today, John McGlinn's body was discovered when the police broke into his apartment. He had died from a heart attack several days earlier, but the actual time of death is unknown. By a lucky coincidence, his sister Lorin, her husband, and son had come to Manhattan from Colorado on vacation and were leaving on the 14th.
The police called several numbers in John's address book, including Russell Warner and Dan Langan, who called me with the news of John's death. I believe it was Dan who connected the police with a cousin of John's and she contacted Lorin in Manhattan. On Saturday afternoon, Lorin identified her brother's body and her husband and son flew back to Colorado. On Sunday evening, I met Lorin, and we both got very drunk reminiscing about John and his horrible treatment of family and friends.
Since then, I doubt there's not a day that passes without my mentioning or thinking of John; I cataloged his estate, and I work in an office surrounded by his scores, books, orchestra parts, and would swear that, when I'm alone, I occasionally hear him walk through another room of the suite, I hear doors open and close, and I yell out, Is that you, John? I hope he never answers.
Still, in the 1980s, working on SHOWBOAT, the Danbury Concert, the Book of the Month Club, dealing with diva Kiri Te Kanawa, and sitting in the Carnegie recital Hall and letting him know when the band was too loud are some of my most cherished memories. Thank you, John!
RIP, my friend and, too much of the time, my enemy. I will listen to one of your CDs today and mourn you.
