Mark is my first cousin. My brother Martin sent me the newspaper article which was so shocking on Mark's health and so unshocking of Mark the person. Please contact me if I can give
Golda Spiers2527 William TellSlidell LA 70458Work # 985 781-6808
By Melissa Fossum
By Lauren Wise
By New Times
By Amanda Savage
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Troy Farah
By New Times
"He hallucinates voices, people, and entire activities," a fall 2004 entry reads. "Once I found him in the kitchen with food spread out on the counter top, the refrigerator door wide open, and sleeping upright. When I woke him he explained that he was fixing pancakes for the Boy Scout troop in the kitchen with him.
"He sprinkled the carpet with a gallon of milk, apparently thinking he was watering the lawn."
I quote those particular excerpts because they have a small element of humor, and you don't want to hear the truly sad parts of a wife's chronicle of her husband's deterioration.
My connection to Mark Covert is that I watched him run one of the greatest venues I've enjoyed in my 10-plus years here, at the old Nita's Hideaway on Rio Salado Drive in Tempe, and the later venue he opened at Price and Baseline roads. The newer venue was never quite the same, but the original club was host to some of the best shows I've seen in my life, whether it was aging country troubadour Ralph Stanley in the parking lot, Modest Mouse multiple times inside and outside the place, Ozomatli stomping around inside the venue, or DJ Shadow making an "unannounced" (except in a column by yours truly) appearance.
I wish I was writing this particular column to let everyone know that Nita's owners, Abby and Mark Covert, were opening a new venue and we should all hold hands and sing fucking "Kum Ba Yah." Unfortunately, I'm writing this because the local music community has come together to throw a benefit show to help the Coverts fight Mark's liver disease.
Mark Covert was a behind-the-scenes operator, but nonetheless one of the kindest, most true lovers of music who has ever worked in this town. His éclat is evident in the lauded local lineup that's scheduled to rock his benefit show on Friday, August 4: Jimmy Eat World, Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, Less Pain Forever vs. Peachcake, Dead Hot Workshop, Flathead, Gloritone, The Minibosses, The Necronauts, Colorstore, and DJs Tige, Smite, and Johnny D.
Since the "new" Nita's Hideaway shuttered its doors in January of 2004, I've been waiting and hoping that Mark would find a new building to turn into a club. I'd known he was ill with hepatitis C before the club closed (he contracted the disease way back in 1968), but at the time, not even he nor his wife Abby realized exactly how sick he was.
A few months after the club's closing, I'd written a column on Bright Eyes, who'd played Nita's several times, and Abby mailed me a Bright Eyes tee shirt afterward with a nice complimentary note. I e-mailed her to thank her and asked how Mark was doing, and she replied, "It's a terrible thing to watch the person you love waste away right before your eyes."
When I met up with Abby and Mark last week for coffee, I was startled by how spry and talkative Mark was. At this stage in his liver disease, which has progressed to cirrhosis, his doctors have him on 23 medicines, which are preventing episodes like the ones Abby describes in her diary.
Mark speaks to me with his usual N'Awlins eloquence, punctuated by curse words but tempered by a calmness that contrasts with Abby's worried commentary.
Mark waited on UCLA's liver transplant list for two years, until recently, when he qualified for Medicare, and was able to explore different medical centers' options for treatment and a transplant. Strangely enough, your geographical location can determine whether you get the organ transplant you need or whether you die.
In the strange world of transplant-land, there are 58 transplant territories in the United States. Each has its own demand for transplants and supply from deceased donors. That means some territories are relatively donor-rich, while others primarily major metropolitan centers like New York, Los Angeles, and, yes, Phoenix have long waiting lists and a high demand.
So Abby and Mark went to North Carolina, where the consultations and treatment contrasted sharply with what they felt was impersonal, take-a-number treatment at UCLA.
And the treatment's working. "I'm not having any real bad episodes," Mark told me at the coffee shop. "I'm waiting for a donor, and as long as this drug continues to keep me stable, the risk of the transplant is greater than the risk of not being transplanted, because I'm stable now."
But not stable financially, which is why a consortium of his friends in the music business has come together to put on what they're calling Scottie-Stock 3. The first Scottie-Stock was assembled to help local musician Scott Moore of The Piersons with medical expenses after he was hit by a car, and was held at the old Nita's; the second, also at Nita's, was to benefit Paul Cardone, a.k.a. PC, who's been in a hundred different bands over the years, most recently Los Guys, PC and the Bad Ass Motherfuckers, and Chocolate Fountain. PC needed a liver transplant as well, received one, and is currently the picture of health. Mark Covert owned the venue for each of the Scottie-Stocks until now, and now the music community is giving back.