Whitney: You Rocked My Days

Whitney, I can't believe you're gone.



Rest in Peace.

Thank you Jennifer Hudson for your brave salute to Whitney at the Grammy Awards Ceremony tonight.

Memories of Amahl and the Night Visitors

This painting, The Adoration of the Magi, by Hieronymus Bosch from the 15th century was apparently a significant inspiration for Gian Menotti, the composer of Amahl and the Night Visitors. The opera in one act was commissioned by NBC in 1951 and was the first opera specifically composed for television.

Amahl and the Night Visitors was a favorite of my Mom, the story as much as the music. I grew up with an old LP record of Amahl  that we played at Christmastime. As a young girl, she took me to a screening of the movie in the early 1960's in New York City. How she got tickets, I never bothered to ask. In 2001 we saw a live matinee performance at Benaroya Hall in Seattle. Like Mom, the story is the magic of Amahl.

Place: Near Bethlehem

Time: The first century, just after the birth of Christ

Amahl, a disabled boy who can walk only with a crutch, has a problem with telling tall tales and, occasionally, lying. He is sitting outside playing his shepherd's pipe when his mother calls for him. After much persuasion, he enters the house but his mother does not believe him when he tells her there is an amazing star "as big as a window" outside over their roof.

Later that night, Amahl's mother weeps, praying that Amahl not become a beggar. After bedtime , there is a knock at the door and the mother tells Amahl to go see who it is. He is amazed when he sees three splendidly dressed kings (the Magi). They tell the mother and Amahl they are on a long journey to give gifts to a wondrous child and they would like to rest at their house, to which the mother agrees. The mother goes to fetch firewood, and Amahl seizes the opportunity to speak with the kings. King Balthazar answers Amahl's questions about his life as a king and asks what Amahl does. Amahl responds that he was once a shepherd, but his mother had to sell his sheep. Now, he and his mother will have to go begging. Amahl then talks with King Kaspar, who is childlike, eccentric, and a bit deaf. Kaspar shows Amahl his box of magic stones, beads, and licorice, and offers Amahl some of the candy.The mother returns. Amahl is told to go fetch the neighbors so the kings may be fed and entertained properly.
.
After the neighbors have left and the kings are resting, the mother attempts to steal for her son some of the kings' gold that was meant for the Christ Child. She is thwarted by the kings' page. When Amahl wakes to find the page grabbing his mother, he attacks him. Seeing Amahl's weak defense of his mother and understanding the motives for the attempted theft, King Melchior says she may keep the gold as the Holy Child will not need earthly power or wealth to build his kingdom. The mother says she has waited all her life for such a king and asks the kings to take back the gold. She wishes to send a gift but has nothing to send. Amahl, too, has nothing to give the Child except his crutch. When he offers it to the kings, his leg is miraculously healed. With permission from his mother, he leaves with the kings to see the child and give his crutch in thanks for being healed.

(from Wikipedia)

Christmas Blessings!

Guide You Safely Through the Wild

I'm missing my Mom so much this Christmas; more than I did last year when her death was so new. Funny how the deep longing for her presence is so much more acute this holiday season. My eyes well up quickly, the emotions just below the surface ready to bubble up at any moment.

Listening to Mom's Christmas choir tapes provides a sure-fire on switch for me to let loose the sadness inside me. The other night we listened to a  recording of  her choir and this piece in particular brought me back to my childhood Christmases. I've never paid attention to the words until now.  This is the Shepherd's Farewell by French composer Hector Berlioz from the mid 19th century. I find it fascinating to learn more about things I took for granted in my young life. Decades later this piece haunts me but in a good way. The lyrics of this piece describe the prayer of the shepherds as they bid goodbye to the Holy family escaping into Egypt. (Matthew 2: 13)

This piece IS my mother set to music. She could have written these words, particularly the last two lines: "God go with you, God protect you....(and most of all) guide you safely through the wild". She was the consummate worrier and the one who prayed for our safety constantly. The wild, the perfect metaphor for all the dangers out there,  represents all she ever feared in a single word. I know this. I am her daughter and much the same.

L'enfance du Christ

Thou must leave thy lowly dwelling,
The humble crib, the stable bare.
Babe, all mortal babes excelling,
Content our earthly lot to share.
Loving father, loving mother,
Shelter thee with tender care. 

Blessed Jesus, we implore thee
With humble hearts and holy fear,
In that land that lies before thee,
Forget not us who linger here.
May the shepherd's lowly calling
Ever to thy heart be dear. 

Blessed are ye beyond all measure,
Thou loving father, mother mild;
Guard thee well thy heavenly treasure,
The Prince of peace, the holy child.
God go with you, God protect you,
Guide you safely through the wild.

I miss you, Mom. Guide you safely through the wild.

Prince Delivers Purple Rain in Tacoma

Two tickets for the Prince Concert scheduled on 12/19/11 at the Tacoma Dome topped my priority list when tickets went online before Thanksgiving. Years back when Prince performed in Seattle on his alleged "last tour", I regretted never having seen him in concert.  Determined not to allow another opportunity to wash by me, I bought tickets quickly, without thinking.

The problem was I didn't consider the month of December; always a rugged proposition for me.  I've learned not to over-commit this time of year; life jam-packs with other events (birthday, anniversary, holiday parties and.....all that decorating). Turns out the Christmas party at Dad's adult family home was the same evening and a voice in my head kept saying, "Go to the party; you should go to the party". As days marched by, those tickets became a burden more than a highlight. No nibbles came from my Craigslist posting and now I wonder if the reason was that I was meant to go to the concert and enjoy the hell out of it. When I told Dad that I wouldn't be at his party because of concert tickets, he was fine with it.

D was never very enthusiastic about going to see Prince, insisting that Purple Rain was the only hit song he cared for.  I gave some thought to going alone but then....on a whim, asked my sister if she would be interested. She had a two word response: "I'm in!"  This was 24 hours beforehand and she was at home, in Houston.

Pertinent digression: Back in the 80's, that one-of-a-kind decade, she introduced me to Prince. Although she's forgotten this, it was she who enticed me to his movie, Purple Rain. I've counted on her on more than a few occasions to turn me on to new experiences. I remember thinking the movie was weird but the music grabbed me and I bought the album in short order. Years later the cassette tape, worn down by repeated play was replaced by a CD.I still pull it out when I want to go back to the 80's.

Picture this scenario: My sister arrived at the airport on a flight from Houston at 5:30 PM. Granted her trip here was planned but still....The concert started at 8 PM in Tacoma. Perfect timing. We stashed her luggage in the back end of the car, drove down I5 to the Tacoma Dome, grabbed a bite to eat, slapped in those earplugs (did we really?), and settled in for an experience in sound and light.

The concert was great; the back-up vocalists and musicians amazing. Purple Rain was the crescendo moment and save for the last performance (he did come back out for a short encore after that but what can top PR?). No first act; it was all Prince. He hasn't changed; rather timeless. Slight, nimble, a first rate musician, a performer.  He looked great in his long, black do-rag, tunic top over pants, wearing one white and one black shoe (heels of course). He's 53. Time, it would seem, has done little to his physical appearance.



Here he is in 1984. Where were you in 1984? Were you even on this earth? Many in the audience were souls aloft in 1984.  Many of us in the audience were much younger in body but I daresay, sporting the same spirit.

"I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain....."

Thanks Heather and Chris

A wonderful weekend was had by all in this house.

Tina and I,  mothers to Heather and Chris respectively, would like very much to make what went on this weekend a tradition every year. We were wined, dined and treated to a magnificent show by our eldest children. Since we share August Birthdays, Heather and Chris (that cute married couple) arranged a wonderful treat for us on Saturday. We enjoyed dinner out at Palomino in downtown Seattle followed by a fabulous performance of Les Miserables at the 5th Avenue Theatre.



Kate, Chris, Heather, Tina

The performance moved me; my first time to see Les Mis. The plot, for a first timer, can be a challenge to follow. The soundtrack is in my future; would love to immerse in the audio aspect of the show again. Marvelous.

This was definitely a Birthday to remember.  Don't worry H and C; we won't hold you to grand and extravagant adventures like this every year. Maybe every other year.  LOL. And, a big thank you!

It's a Disease

I'm concluding that my lapse in posting this month is a direct result of a more intense schedule at work. Kicking it up from 0.6 to 0.8 full time equivalent is apparently a bigger incremental increase in time than I'd predicted. It feels like a lot more and for all practical purposes is a full time proposition by the time the hours add up; well over 40/wk for sure. I shouldn't whine; at least I'm gainfully employed and valued by those who pay my salary. Plus, I have great colleagues.

I find myself perpetually connected to my work. I find it impossible to stay away from my computer link to work on days off, weekends. I rationalize by telling myself that I'm just getting "ahead of the wave" of work that will stack into deeper piles if I don't whack it back. Instead of batching my work and taking a chunk of time during my work day to tackle it, I am irresistibly  tempted to just do it now so I won't have to do it later. True: my inbox is manageable but only because I'm constantly sweeping it. Curiously, the inbox is less of a physical entity, although it is that too. The inbox is all the stuff I can knock off from home on a laptop wired into my office. Mixed blessing, this.

With discipline, I suppose I could keep myself from logging on but to not do so makes me ANXIOUS and what do we do when we are ANXIOUS?  We do what needs to be done to ease the feeling.

It's this whole "ahead of the wave" business. My blog does not carry the title on a whim. It's me...it's how I deal with so much in my life (but not all; some weird exceptions) Seriously. I hate surprises, curve balls, stuffed in-boxes, and disasters that might have been averted had I only been connected.  T'is a disease. Truly. One I can see but feel powerless to tackle. Not sure I even want to change my modus operandi.  My methods work....until I hit the wall at 100 miles an hour. Having been through that once 5 years ago, I need to learn from past experiences.

Something "New" You Say?

 Prompt for Dec.18: Try. What do you want to try next year? Is there something you wanted to try in 2010? What happened when you did / didn't go for it? 

Absolutely.

Thinking back on 2010, can I find a single example of "trying something new"? I fear not. Predictable, unwavering, plodding on, doing the same things over and over and over again. How dull is that?

I've really got to get out of this rut of doing things the same way every day all day. Mix it up! Try something new! Make an idiot out of myself. Find out what new passions may lie in wait for me.

Easier said than done but I'm at least challenged by the idea.

No, I didn't try anything new in 2010, not a damn thing. What will it be in 2011?  I'd love to follow the advice in this classic from Blue Oyster Cult back in 1976, the year I graduated college, embarked on the next phase, met my future husband, and took on the world.






Baby don't fear the reaper....

September is Here; Let's Dance

Here's a great tune worthy of a re-visit today, this first day of September. Thanks to Caroline blogging at Constantly Evolving who posted the same video clip today. Something about the new month and September in particular brings out the celebration.


Earth Wind and Fire, 1978, September. 

Do you remember the 21st night of September?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders
While chasing the clouds away

Our hearts were ringing
In the key that our souls were singing
As we danced in the night,
Remember how the stars stole the night away

on and on - say that you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - never was a cloudy day

My thoughts are with you
Holding hands with your heart to see you
Only blue talk and love,
Remember how we knew love was here to stay

Now December found the love that we shared in September.
Only blue talk and love,
Remember the true love we share today

on and on - say that you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - never was a cloudy day

on and on - say do you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - golden dreams were shiny days

Some bells were ringing
Our souls were singing
Do you remember,never a cloudy day?

on and on - say do you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - never was a cloudy day

on and on - say do you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - golden dreams were shiny days

Happy 4th!

Spring Break; Texas Bound

Spring Break Time!

Once again, Miss Laura and I are heading off for some mom and daughter time over her annual spring break. I'm already feeling twinges of sadness as this is the last official spring break we'll have together with her graduating college in a few months. I look back on all our trips over the years as special opportunities spent with my daughter. Good times we've had, exploring different experiences and new locations.

I remember....

2005: a fabulous trip to New York City for shopping, shows, and the sights

2006: a one week cruise on the Mexican Riviera; Mazatlan, Puerto Vallarta, and Cabo San Lucas.

2007: Chicago in March; unseasonably warm and beautiful, we saw Pink eating pizza at Ginos. (I didn't know who she was until Laura pointed her out at the table next to ours)

2008: Las Vegas!!! What else can I say?

2009: a hiatus. Laura was in Europe for the academic year.

2010: Austin and San Antonio

We considered our options carefully this year and decided that a trip to Austin/San Antonio would be a good choice. Laura was born in Houston, left at the tender age of 3 to move to Seattle and although we've been back to Texas many times over the years, Houston has been the focus. I can't wait to show her central Texas; St. Stephen's Episcopal School where I went to high school and U.T. Austin where her Dad went to college. San Antonio will be fun too with the River Walk and the good eats. We've got a rough idea of what we're doing each day but there's plenty of spontaneous time; we'll go with the flow. Great Tex-Mex, a margarita or two, the old and the new, the memories and the natural beauty. I'm hoping the wildflowers are out but that remains to be seen. Texas has been unseasonably cold this winter.

Gotta get to bed early tonight (and pack!) because our flight leaves at 6 AM!

Auld Lang Syne

Happy New Year! 2010!

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne ?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
and surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine ;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand my trusty friend !
And give us a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

Best Album of 2009

This post is the easiest yet, largely because all I need to do is cut an paste from my post of September 7, 2009.

Whitney Houston's album I Look To You tops my list. I'm old school.

Best Night Out of 2009

"Night out. Did you have a night out with friends or a loved one that rocked your world? Who was there? What was the highlight of the night?"

The sad fact remains: I rarely go out for a night on the town with friends or family. And, if I do would one of those nights from 2009 go down in history as a night that rocked my world?

Absolutely!

Saturday, November 14, 2009 two special people, Heather and Chris danced into their wedding reception and started the party of the year (as far as I'm concerned). Friends and family from all over the USA gathered to celebrate with fine food, wine, toasts, cake, and best of all? Music and dancing!

Sister Sledge can easily rock my world when she starts in with We are Family, a veritable tradition at weddings in this family. Whenever we hear the familiar beat rev up, we're out our seats and on to the dance floor; grateful for sisters (and brothers) and friends and lovers.

Check it out, turn up the volume, and rock on world!

We are family
I got all my sisters with me
We are family
Get up ev'rybody sing!

Ev'ryone can see we're together
As we walk on by
(FLY!) and we fly just like birds of a feather
I won't tell no lie
(ALL!) all of the people around us they say
Can they be that close
Just let me state for the record
We're giving love in a family dose

(CHORUS x2)

Living life is fun and we've just begun
To get our share of the world's delights
(HIGH!) high hopes we have for the future
And our goal's in sight
(WE!) no we don't get depressed
Here's what we call our golden rule
Have faith in you and the things you do
You won't go wrong
This is our family Jewel

......Sister Sledge

Go Whitney!

I love Whitney Houston.

Her latest album, I Look To You, went on sale last week and yours truly bought the CD at Target, drawn into the store like a moth to a flame. The eleven songs are a mix of heartfelt ballads and rhythmic tunes that make you want to take to the dance floor. Yeah! It was all I could do to drive (shhhhhh) and tear off that tenacious plastic wrap on the darn CD so I could slip it in the player and boogie on down the road to her comeback tunes. Her voice is smooth as silk, vintage Whitney, and she's gorgeous to boot. I love Whitney.

My favorite piece off the new album is Call You Tonight. YouTube offers up a pretty decent rendition although the sound off that CD blows me away. With happiness.




I wonder if she'll make any music videos like she did back in the '80's. I remember waaaaay back in 1986, while on maternity leave with Chris, I watched MTV and fell in love with How Will I Know? I'd dance around the house and if we were in the car together when this hit came on the radio, I'd sing to him. Oh, the 80's. Those were happy days and I never hear this older song of Whitney's that I don't smile.

August Was Pretty Good After All

For all the moans and groans about my least favorite month of the year, that "dusty month" of August, these 31 days have actually been OK. It helps sometimes not to have high expectations and then one can be pleasantly surprised by how nicely things turn out. So much happens in the space of a month; the comings and goings, the events, the celebrations, the routine things, the ups and downs, the joys and pains. There's always something. Never boring. The days are alive with forward movement.


Chris started out the month with his move to Gig Harbor. Having both kids home for a good chunk of the summer was great but all good things come to an end and other good things begin. "The Harbor" is lovely and the new rental home spacious and inviting. We've made several trips down I-5 south this month to enjoy a meal out with H and C and to update ourselves on how the "house fixing" is progressing.










The Blue Angels flew over that first weekend of August as they always do and rooted out the stray cobwebs in my brain. Always clears out my head to see and hear them perform.

Mid August found us celebrating Mom's 92nd Birthday with a 1940's style swing band trio, cake, and 4 generations of family. I caught this video of Mom entranced by the music, conducting right along to the beat. She still talks about putting together another Christmas choir sometime; the choral director in her shines through. That and her love for the classroom; she'll always be a teacher.


Twas the time of blackberry picking, cobblers and sorbet as the sun ripened vines in Discovery Park offered up their bounty. Twas the time of major disgorging and cleaning of this home of ours; thank goodness for a lovely place that recycles computer parts for FREE! I've made a half dozen trips this summer with monitors, hard drives, cables, computer casings and all sorts of other ugly stuff. We are getting lighter all the time! Thanks Chris for your cooperation!

And then, late August and the day when my Birthday rolls around; the "two nickels" birthday as D likes to call it. Trying to ignore its existence didn't work and I'm glad. Our new family of five had a great meal at home and shared blackberry cobbler and chocolate cake. What's not to like about 55 anyway?

August 31, 2009. Our house is quiet. Our street is quiet. Laura is back at school Summer isn't officially over for another three weeks but it might as well be. The light is different. The leaves shimmer on the trees. We keep moving forward.

Just One More Post about the Man in the Mirror

This post, in my opinion, is a great reflection on the recent death of Michael Jackson, written by one of my favorite bloggers. I'll just leave it at that; one of the best I've read and made me think.

Of my Mentor and MJ

Sunday morning and I'm feeling alive with a jolt from 2 cups of coffee (and no headache!), wondering how to pull this blog post together. How do I write about my love for the man, my mentor, who passed away unexpectedly in April 2009 and whose grand slam blow-out celebrate-the-man party was held last night in Little Rock and acknowledge the recent death of Michael Jackson in a single post? I've thought a lot about these two men in the last 24 hours; TEA (my mentor) and MJ because the two collided in my life at the same time, the early 1980's, although obviously in very different ways.

The man, my mentor shaped my young professional life, stood as a role model, taught me how to approach tough medical problems, kicked butt, and demanded the best from everyone. Often eccentric and overbearing at times, he could see to the core of an issue with brilliant precision, cull out the distractions, and focus on the important facts, all without forgetting that the patient was at the heart of the matter. From him I learned how to teach others what I knew, skills still part of who I am into the present day. In medicine, we teach. We teach patients and we teach our collegues. We also teach "the young", the newly graduated interns and residents who have more to learn by living medicine than they ever did in the lecture hall. There are amazing teachers and not-so-amazing teachers in our field; I know that I am one of the amazing (self congratulatory, yes) because of TEA, my mentor who by his unique style and personality, taught me how to teach. As I often say, "There are very few things of which I am certain in life but...." (and then I will add of what it is I am certain), of my first class ability to teach, I am certain. Thank you TEA.

And MJ? He was the man that rocked my free time, my down time from the insane hours, the demanding schedule of being a young trainee in Medicine. In 1982 when Thriller was released I was in the midst of my "Chief Residency", an optional but revered fourth year in Internal Medicine working alongside three other very fine colleagues chosen by TEA to help run the training program, teach and supervise "the younger" generation of interns, residents and medical students. A chief residency position was considered a great honor, a chance to work 1:1 with the Chairman of Internal Medicine (TEA), and to learn, learn, learn. I often think about my three co-chiefs, three guys (I think I was the first woman chief resident but certainly not the last) selected by TEA to serve in this position. Those three co-chiefs of mine are all amazing doctors, 2 in private practice and one in academic medicine at Penn State. I know that the four of us were influenced profoundly by our association with TEA.

Wow, here I am starting out the paragraph above with MJ and quickly digressing into talk about my mentor again. That's because this was TEA's weekend to be remembered by all those students, interns, residents, chief residents, and Nephrology fellows as well as peers that he touched with his indelible, irrefutable influence. I wish I could have been there to celebrate but if not there in person, I was there in spirit with my thoughts.

As for MJ, his music was the backdrop to my life in those intense, ball busting, incredible days of the early 1980's and for that, I'm also very grateful. Those were days when I felt alive with the promise of life, something I'm working very hard to find again. If I listen to MJ's music, the creative forces start to flow and I'm grateful for the jump start. Thank you MJ.

RIP to both.

Migraines and the Boogie

I am so weary of MIGRAINE HEADACHES!

This has got to stop or at least get better. Four or more a week is just "not fittin" for (wo)man, nor beast. I've learned to tolerate the pain because I know how to get rid of it within a few hours with the bomb called imitrex, but....there's got to be a point where trying to prevent them in the first place takes precedence over rooting them out when the exploding skull is upon me.

I hate this.

I'm constantly looking for patterns...what caused this one, why now, what was different about the last 8-12 hours that might have provoked it.

This one I can probably blame on the lovely mango mojito I enjoyed with my 21 year old daughter on our Friday evening outing downtown for dinner and a movie. Sigh.

But sometimes it has nothing to do with alcohol. These "head bangers" might be brought on by crying (yep), skipping meals, too much head-rush sugar (chocolate, cookies), not enough water, lack of sleep and on and on. I suppose I should really clean up my act for a period of time and just see if doing so reduces the frequency of these explosions in my brain. Old habits (mine are so ingrained, these bad ones) die hard. I think the only solution is a retreat where there is no opportunity to de-rail a plan for healthier living.

But, this morning, like many others, I down that first cup of coffee wondering if and hoping that IT might do the job. But then, when the explosion just keeps escalating, I know that the only antidote is to reach for the Imitrex. What must that potent cerebral vasoconstrictor be doing to all those tiny blood vessels in my brain?

Shorting it out, slowly....I muse. No wonder I can't remember phone numbers, names, and a re-set password on my computer 10 seconds after re-setting it. Blame it on the start of Alzheimer's Disease? Blame it on the Imitrex?

None of these......in my Michael J. reverie, I think I'll remember his words........

"Don't blame it on the sunshine, don't blame it on the moonlight, don't blame it on the good times, blame it on the Boogie."

Yeah.

Sad Day

The icon of Pop Music died today. His person, although steeped in controversy and physical and emotional turmoils, had amazing talent. He will never be forgotten. Much as I love Thriller, my post from last May about listening to Blame it on the Boogie while swimming at the pool gives me a bittersweet feeling as I watch the video all over again.

Rest in Peace Michael.

ER

Tonight I watched the last episode of ER, a two hour special commemorating one of the longest running dramatic series on television. The show which aired Thursday I saved for tonight and watched it alone as I have off an on for the last 14 seasons.

I've an ambivalent relationship to this show, sometimes letting an entire season pass without watching a single episode. But then, something would lure me back into the fold. Many times I've poked fun at the larger than life portrayal of this most mysterious place called the Emergency Room. I've critiqued the story lines; the fast paced, overly dramatic scenes where doctors make life and death decisions in split seconds, spewing out orders for lab tests and X Rays at a frenetic pace. Many times I wondered if viewers really believe all this nonsense or if, like me they get caught up in the action and lost in the magic for an hour on Thursday nights.

I remember my many months of ER rotations, beginning as a medical student, through internship, residency and even as a junior faculty member, supervising the Internal Medicine house staff as they did their work in the ER. While in training our shifts were 24 hours on, 24 hours off for an entire month. That was over 25 years ago; the "shifts" are much different for trainees in 2009. After all, who would want a doctor in his or her 23rd hour of wakefulness to be handling critical decisions? The ER was a place of extreme unpredictability, often outrageously busy but just as often slow, almost boring. There were moments of terror and triumph and many moments of in-between. I'm glad those days of my career are over although I look back at my experiences there as critical to my training.

Whatever I may think or say about the television rendition of a busy inner city emergency room, there is one aspect that gets me in the gut every time, my absolute favorite part of the entire show, and the part that captures that murky intensity that is the ER. The opening credits.....especially during the early years of the show.

Chills. Brilliance. Awesome. Spot on.