I often feel compelled to write about topics that aren’t running-related, but I convince myself I have to stick to the “theme” of my blog. But life is multi-faceted and writing about running isn’t that much fun if it’s the only thing you write about and deny yourself the opportunity to write about other meaningful topics.
That all goes to say, I felt compelled to write about the late Neil Peart of Rush who tragically died on January 7, 2020 after a three year battle with brain cancer. It would be the first time I’ve written about a celebrity or musician, and I’m not writing an homage to him or a biography, or a reflection on his career. We have plenty of those and he himself is an incredible and accomplished author.
No, I feel compelled to write because I’m sad, and I’m sad not only for his family and young daughter, but for the influence and role he and Rush played in my life growing up. Because I associate so many memories and formative experiences with their music and his lyrics. Because as I think about the loss of life, I can’t help but reflect on my own and the moments so deeply touched by one band.
It may be that no one except my parents read this. That’s ok. This one is for me. And my Dad. No section headers, no editing.
My family has had a huge influence on the music I love, and none more than my Dad’s love for the The Holy Triumvirate. I’ve been telling people that Rush is my favorite band since I was in elementary school. When the typical fan is more a balding middle-aged man (my Father’s words, not mine) I always felt a little out of place. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Destiny’s Child and Christina Aguilera, but even more I loved Geddy Lee.
I used to pull out all my Dad’s Rush CDs and look at the cover art. He had them in a cabinet in our entertainment stand. I loved Moving Pictures most. We used to go a lot of road trips to visit family, especially when we lived in Wisconsin when I was in 3rd – 6th grade and all of our family was in Ohio. My dad had an affinity for talk radio, which I couldn’t stand, so I always asked him to play Rush. As a kid, I always wanted to hear ‘The Temples of Syrinx” which my Dad always had to remind me was just one part of 2112, a verrry long song.
I remember when Test for Echo came out and we played it for the first time. I think it was around 1996. I also remember Dad telling me it wasn’t Rush’ best and always having this idea it was somehow a sub-par record. I do remember the song driven, with the lyrics “It’s my turn drive. But it’s my turn dri-ive!” and Dad saying that as we got in the car to go somewhere. And in turn, I would say it to him once I got my driver’s permit.
In the late 90s Dad told me the tragedy that Neil Peart had lost both his daughter in a car accident and his wife from cancer within months of eacho other. As an empathetic 8- or 9-year-old I cried for them. I couldn’t imagine that pain. He told me Rush would be taking a hiatus so Neil could grieve.
When I was in high school, maybe a freshman or sophomore, I learned that Neil was an atheist. And that devastated me, because I couldn’t process how someone who wrote such moving and beautiful lyrics couldn’t believe in a higher power. I realize now that those two things have nothing to do with each other, but at the time I was compelled to write a poem to Neil asking how he could see such a beautiful natural world, and believe it happened by accident. I wanted to send the poem to him, but I didn’t know how so it just sat in an old notebook that has long been lost.
As a freshman in college we learned Rush was coming to Cincinnati on the Snakes and Arrows tour. My Dad got tickets for the entire family. Being that I was a bit more of an avid Rush fan than my mom and brother, they were on the lawn at Riverbend, while I got to sit in the under the pavilion with my Dad and his friend Tommy. Oh my gosh, was I stoked. I finally got to wear my Signals t-shirt that I bought at Hot Topic in high school (the only one they had available). Watching Neil on the drums and Geddy bounce and run around on stage were like nothing I had ever seen before. I remember coming back to Xavier and meeting up with some friends at a party where a girl asked me why I was wearing “jorts and a t-shirt with a dog and a fire hydrant on it.” There was that out of place feeling again. I knew she just wouldn’t understand.
As a sophomore I took a literature class and read the poem “Kubla Khan” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Reading about Xanadu and the caves of ice, I realized this was the impetus for Rush’ song Xanadu! My dad will remember, I had wanted to get a horse and name it Xanadu when we lived in Wisconsin, but I didn’t really understand the song, I just thought the word was cool. My love for the song was reborn and I grew a deep appreciation for the intricacy and genius of the lyrics.
Before I ran the Boston Marathon for the first time in 2009, Dad says to me, “It’s the test of ultimate will, the heartbreak climb uphill.” I thought he was just being his usual poet/philosopher self and then he told me Rush has a song, marathon, and to listen to it. 19 years of fan and there was still plenty of music undiscovered.
When I was a junior in college, I decided to get my first tattoo. I had long been contemplating it and the thing that stuck out were lyrics from the Rush song, Mission. It was one of mine and my Dad’s favorites. He told me the song reminded him of me and my spirit, and he told me to never lose my fire, but to never lose myself in the pursuit of excellence. I whittled it down to “A spirit with a vision is a dream with a mission.” A tribute to my favorite band, and a special connection my Dad and I had because of it.
When Michael died in 2010, Mission became some sort of song of refuge for me. It was one of maybe 4 songs I would listen to over and over to help me fall asleep and not lose hope. “Hold your fire, Keep it burning bright, Hold the flame, ‘Til the dream ignites.”
Later, Mission would be the song my Dad and I danced to at my wedding. Not exactly a typical first dance song, but Dad doesn’t love dancing so it helped to play a song he loved. We sang together through a whole two verses before that was enough dancing for him!
When I met Jeremy, of course I expressed to him my love for Rush. Our first Christmas together, in 2012, he bought me tickets to see Rush at the O2 Arena in London! I was taking a trip with my best friend, Kristen, and they just happened to be performing while we were already going to be there. I think I made a fan of Kristen that night. When we met up a few years later for a trip to Costa Rica, she was wearing a Grace under Pressure t-shirt <3
Before we went on that trip I read Neil’s autobiography, Traveling Music. Dog-eared and highlighted the book was full of music I had yet to discover, beautifully written, and gave so much insight into his life. I learned that right after high school Neil moved to London and worked in a record store called the Great Frog. Of course, I dragged Kristen there to visit it. Turns out while still the Great Frog it had become a handmade jewelry store in the early 70’s. The people working there didn’t even know the history–or Neil! They did graciously give me a button pin for my backpack.
My family and I had this tendency to look for 2112 in life. Just fun moments like when you look for 11:11 or 12:34 on the clock. One that sticks out the most was when my parents went hiking in Austria and went to the Beilefelder Hutte at exactly 2112 meters above sea level. While I was stationed in Germany, I too had to go to that same hutte and get a photo!
I could go on, but the last life moment I’ll share is that Neil wrote about climbing Angel’s Landing at Zion National Park in a 2013 blog post. My dad shared it with us, and decided we had to visit this place and do this hike. While it has no meaning in Neil’s life, it is pretty special to me that we accomplished that in October 2019. Unbeknownst to us and the most of the world, Neil was suffering and dying from cancer. Somehow it felt meaningful that we did it while he was still alive.
The man left a legacy of being the best drummer in rock history, and also probably (I’m biased) the best lyricist. Who else can write lyrics about the Manhattan Project in a prog rock song and make it work?! And for me, he and his genius are intertwined in memories, moments of happiness and sadness, triumph and devastation, firsts and lasts.
We each pay a fabulous price
For our visions of paradise
But a spirit with a vision
Is a dream with a mission
My love and prayers go out to his family, friends, and band mates. Rest in Peace, Professor.
