Mike Carroll died today. He was Denise Shavers longtime partner. They have lived in New York for many years, but I first knew them when they lived here in Tucson downtown in an apartment on 9th street near my friend Richard back in the early 1980s. Mike was Irish, born in Massachusetts, but raised here. He loved beer.
He was also an amazing artist. He gave me a painting he did once of Bob Dylan. It was a dual portrait. One was of Dylan before Highway 61 Revisited and the other was post Highway 61, kind of like what he looked like during Blonde on Blonde. I also have a hand-painted Christmas card he and Denise sent me, and a couple of photos of the two of them together. I treasure these things.
One day we had a big party at Richard’s house. This was in the early 80s. Everyone was drinking and smoking. We may have even been doing hallucinogenics at the time too. He he he. Someone put on The Basement Tapes by Dylan and the Band, and wow, there were moments when everyone was singing along. Only a few of us die hard Dylan fans knew all the lyrics, but it didn’t stop the rest of the gang from joining in. With Dylan’s songs, one can just mumble their way through the tune and nobody notices… Mike was in the middle of it all, singing his heart out along with Bob and the Band, his buddy Jimmy, and all our friends. We sure had fun right then. It was a magical moment, one I’ll never forget.
We sure had some great times back then. In mid-June, 1982, we all piled up in my brand new 1964 Galaxy 500, given to me by my mom as a college graduation gift a couple of months earlier, and drove up to Mesa to see the Clash perform. Denise had made some really cool silk screened t-shirts to sell at the concert. (I used to have one, but wore it out). On the way up to Phoenix on this particular trip, we were all partying in the car, and as luck would have it, a cop stopped us. It turns out I had expired plates. The cop could tell we were partying. Who wouldn’t have smelled the smoke? But he was kind that day and let us off the hook, and we ended up getting to the concert in plenty of time. It turned out to be a blast after all. The Clash were on the same bill as the English Beat, but they sucked.
Another time, we all drove down, in my Galaxy 500 again, to Nogales to eat,drink and shop. It was also a fun trip. We sang songs along the way and had such fun. I was into listening to music of the civil rights era at the time, and had everyone singing along to tunes like “If you miss me at the back of the bus”.
We also sang “South Street”. Seems like Denise was the only other person in the world who knew the song!
In the summer of 1987, I traveled to San Francisco to meet my future boss from the University of Michigan Library. She wanted to check me out before deciding whether or not she wanted me to come to Ann Arbor for a job interview. The American Library Association conference was in progress, but I was there just to meet her. Once that was all over, I hooked up with Mike, who lived there with Denise in the Fillmore district at the time on Hayes Street. Denise was out of town so I got to hang out just with Mike. He took me out drinking all over the city to a number of Irish bars, and then we ended up at a party with a lot of his “artist” friends. It was the strangest scene, with artsy-fartsy gabachos everywhere, and I of course felt totally out of place. Mikey fit right in. He was an artist too, after all, and a gabacho, but a cool one! Wow.
Later that same night, I came up with new words to the song, “On Top of Spaghetti”, which I had been singing to the kids in Nogales at the time. They went something like this…On top of your chi chis, all covered with cheese, I lost my virginity, when you said please. We rolled on the table, then on to the floor, and when it was over, you wanted some more…” Wow. That’s Pulitzer prize material, for sure! Or at least National Poetry award stuff…Actually I was drunk as a skunk. The words just flowed out of me as easily as the alcohol had been flowing in the entire day…
Mike’s gifts were art and music. I don’t know if he ever had a “straight,” regular job. He leaned on Denise a lot.
I got a text message earlier today from Richard’s wife Emily that Mike had died this morning. Now Mikey and Richard are both up in heaven, probably partying and singing the same Dylan songs they sang together that day at Richard’s party almost 40 years ago. At least I like to think that.
I called Denise and we talked for a while. Mike died of melanoma. It had spread throughout his body and ended up in his brain. He wasn’t in any pain and he got to be at home when he passed. That’s probably all he wanted at the end, was to be at home with Denise. Denise has covid, but she sounded okay. After all she’s been through, the poor thing needs a rest. I hope she gets it. Mike will be cremated next week. And life will go on.
