So I recently went to a concert, a show, we lovingly call it. A Grateful Dead cover band called Dark Star Orchestra. It's not the first time I've seen them, and certainly won't be the last, but it was most definitely their best yet. It was such a celebration -- of music (obviously), of fun, of love, of life, of happiness and joy, but most of all of good memories (summers in Old Blue) and good friends (my husband most of all).
Close to the same time last week (coincidence? you know the answer), I stumbled upon a comment from an old friend, and realized how much I missed him, missed laughing with him, missed just talking and getting the latest on how his three girls were, how happy he was in general. Before any of my other friends, this friend was the one who really got it when I first told him about Jim -- he's a pilot? No way!! And plays the drums? You're kidding!! Is sooo into music? He's perfect for you.... I will never forget that feeling of overwhelming love for this old friend as I heard his enthusiasm and sheer, untarnished, unprompted happiness blast its way over the phone. He just knew. He could feel my happiness and love. And not only did he celebrate with me about it (about Jim), he told me, with his words and honesty and heart.
Which brings me back to the show last weekend. I never grew up a huge GD fan, but I did grow up as a huge music fan, influenced and open to whatever, wherever by my close-knit circle of music-obsessed friends. It started with the Fixx and Rush. The Replacements and the Alarm followed in college, then Pearl Jam and DMB in the years after that. Along came Jim, and with him, my love and appreciation for all things Phish, Grateful Dead and giant, joyful music festivals. Music has been such a part of my life -- a way of life, really -- and no surprise that at least in that realm of things, nothing has changed yet.
So, the show. It was about good times. It was about love. It was about throwing your arms in the air cuz you just couldn't help it you were so filled with happiness -- for those immediately around you as well as those who live in your heart. It was about breaking out in song (come on, who can resist belting out Hey Jude from the bottom of their lungs/heart/soul?). It was about the uncontrollable smile that you just couldn't keep off your face -- and the same one you saw on everyone else's. It was about this amazing life Jim and I have together, forged in music, supported by love, fueled by fun and light and laughter. And it reminded me of all the friends in my life. The ones who have come and gone. The ones who helped shape me and grow with me and move with me. The ones who celebrated with me when Jim came into my life, and the ones who celebrate with me still. The new ones that I fell in love with as part of Jim's extended family, and the ones I had to let go as they grew extended families of their own. The ones I still dream about when I hear The Spirit of '76. The ones I thought of when DSO played Franklin's Tower. The ones I miss. The ones I still get to see and have fun with even though so many years have passed. The ones that made me cry and laugh and smile and live and become this version of me -- they entered my heart as the band closed the show with Brokedown Palace... Fare you well, fare you well, I love you more than words can tell...
So here's to all of you, my friends. You know who you are, and why I love you so.
I grew up in the 70s and 80s. Came of age (in my mind anyway) in the mid-90s. My music repertoire had its roots in Styx (I blame my then-teenage neighbor), then later in Rush, the Fixx, the Alarm (I blame pals Rick and Joe) and other similar bands like the Clash, Joe Satriani, the Cult. Post-college brought me into contact (as I fell in love) with Pearl Jam and the Dave Matthews Band. And then there were the Frank years, and all things ladies of blues, Etta, Ella and Nina. But I never would've called myself a hippie or anything even slightly related. Slightly boho-gal, yes. All-out Jeep outdoorsy cool chick, probably. But hippie? I had one tie-dye shirt (that I made). Didn't go to festivals (didn't even know such a thing existed besides Woodstock). Never saw the Grateful Dead on tour (never even knew much of their music). Would not have known what a drum circle was. Nor a jam band. Phish grew to fame in the east while I was there, and I missed that too entirely. And then, somehow that all changed.
I remember the first song that my husband played for me -- the first one that he really wanted me to hear. It was by the Jerry Garcia Band, and it was a cover of Shining Star by Earth, Wind and Fire. And it was good. Really good. I instantly fell in love (your guess here whether I'm talking about the song or Jim). He had told a friend of his years before that he would play that song for the woman he was going to marry, so in a way, it was a mini-audition for the wife and lover and friend and companion that I was already well on my way to becoming. Come forward to our engagement, which began when he asked me to marry him at Bonnaroo, during the Dead show while they played Morning Dew (a sweet, soulful, classic folk melody)...and then keep on going to our wedding, which featured both significant songs, a reception introduction orchestrated by Phish's First Tube, and filled with Jerry Garcia wine, Jerry art on all the place cards, and a Dancing Bear pinata. Oh yes, I'm serious. It was a blast....
I credit my lovely (hippie) pilot of a hubby with all this music discovery. Music is amazing, I think. How one song can change your entire day, mood, life sometimes. How one song can take you back 20 years, and surprise you by the fact that you still know all the words. And the words -- ahhh, the writer in me is always so focused on, so moved by, so inspired with what the songs actually say and how they say it, most times more than the music itself (although also a critical part). That's one of our big differences -- for Jim, it's all about the music, and the words are secondary, sometimes unimportant. It's the absolute opposite for me. To this day, I still print out words to songs that strike me -- songs where the words could stand alone, but are brought to such an amazing life with their accompanying chords and notes and voices. Songs where the words alone bring a tear to my eye, make me smile, cry, wish, hope....
I'm now a huge fan of both the Grateful Dead and Phish, and find myself sorry that I missed some of the "golden years" when touring with the bands was an experience and not just another show. I've been to Bonnaroo twice. A number of smaller festivals like the Hangout and two and three-day shows galore from Red Rocks to Alpine Valley and back. In fact, much of our vacation schedule is crafted around festival season. I just got back from a two-day Phish run at Deer Creek. Funny, how music can change a life, no?
So in the spirit of the hippie I've become -- loved becoming, become through love -- I leave you with my latest favorite song. A good DJ "friend" played it to end his run on my favorite local radio station, and it seemed to me to be the perfect send-off, the perfect goodbye, the perfect so long for now. It's a sweet, slightly sad tune, but as always, it was the words that hooked me, with the music sealing the deal. So from one hippie to another, I hope you enjoy it....both the words and the music.....and think of the "many worlds I've come since I first left home"....and that you'll "listen to the river sing sweet songs to rock my soul."
For those of you who may not know, I did a 60-mile walk about a year-and-a-half ago. Yes. You read that right. Sixty miles, over three days, in the heat of a Chicago summer, raising a ton of money for Susan G. Komen and breast cancer research. It's a great cause -- and an even greater challenge -- one that truly changed my life, spiritually, physically, mentally. My friend Steph P. and I trained for over six months to get ready for it -- meaning we walked. A lot. And then walked some more...I loved every minute of it (ok, I could have skipped the blisters, but that's another story). But walking that much? I loved it. Every single step of that spring and summer of walking, walking, walking. I've not felt that fit in a long time. And it was just from getting out to take a walk.
The winter following the 3-Day, I got pregnant. And the following summer left distance walking a quickly diminishing option as I got rounder. Last summer was my first summer with a baby -- and again, walking was not a priority so much as cramming in every minute I could with both of my guys. This past winter and spring, hot yoga and pilates have been my focus, thinking that as spring and summer arrived, I'd get out and start walking more (again). To date, that has only happened once. Until last night.
I wasn't feeling good yesterday. Feeling not so great about how I looked, how I felt. I hated what I'd chosen to wear to work that day, exasperated with my hair, not at all happy with my body. Feeling down and out and dull. Normally, this would spur a night on the couch to hopefully recharge, renew and just get rest for once. I had every intention of doing this. But instead, I took a walk last night.
I took a long, powerful, liberating walk. All over my neighborhood for nearly an hour. I didn't want to stop -- didn't want to come in from being outside and walking. I felt like I could walk for hours (and might have if it hadn't gotten dark at 9:00). And I felt good. Strong. Fit. Happy. Good (yeah, I said that already, but that's just how good I felt). And bewildered why I had let this simple and effective workout tool go so long unused and undone and unloved.
I took my iPod (something I didn't use when training for the the big walk). My iPod is a funny animal -- I don't use it all that much, and have a huge laundry list of songs I want to add, so when I do take it along for something like last night, I get caught up in what songs my Pod randomly chooses to play for me -- it's like it just knows what I need to hear, at just the right times....and because I don't listen to it all the time, these little gems still surprise me....
Sean Mullins started it all off with, "Yeah but ain't it a blessing to do what you wanna do..." Wry smile on my face, eyes on the setting sun, all I can think is yeah, I'm working on that one...right now as a matter of fact....
Tribal Dance makes me laugh somewhere in the middle. Holy cow, how long has it been since I heard this? Made me walk faster -- a lot faster. With a huge smile on my face. "You've got to move it, feel the temperature...get into it..." Yes indeed I do. Am doing....
At the end, Madonna helps me finish strong, comes on and says, "The more that I wait, the more time that I waste. I haven't got much time to waste, it's time to make my way." How true. Time right now.
Bono thrills me as I stretch and cool down with "And so she woke up, woke up from where she was lying still and said I gotta do something about where I'm going..." True beyond words.
Those randomly chosen songs last night -- these here and so many others -- made me walk faster. Farther. More confidently. Some brought a bounce to my step. Others a tear to my eye. Others were just vibrant reminders of times gone by. All made that walk absolutely amazing. Good. Great. Just what I needed really. And more importantly, they made me eager -- crazy -- to get out there and do it again. To get out there and just walk. And feel as fulfilled and powerful and strong as I did when I finished. And maybe, just maybe (ok, probably), start the journey toward another 3-Day next year. Care to join me? Come on, let's go for a walk.
I'm full -- so very full -- of spring and spring fever and a bounce in my step. Joy abounds today and it's because of so many things -- a cool new song that I can't stop tapping my feet to, the gorgeous weather (I love not having to wear a jacket let alone a coat!), and the fact that it's such a lovely thing to realize (remember) that I am, in fact, a writer -- a good writer at that. I know, a bit full of myself there, but today, it just makes me smile ever wider. I feel good, ya know? How truly marvelous.
So let's start the beginning -- I've heard this song a few times on my favorite local radio station and Sirius, and it suits my whole mood for the week. I even sang part of it to Grif last night before bedtime (instead of my usual Van Morrison Sweet Thing)...there's something about the whistling....the chorus....the tune. It screams happiness and joy and lightheartedness (all perfect for lulling Grif to sleep). And it stands the test for late afternoon pick-me-ups. One might even say it kills it for afternoon pick-me-ups. It's sweet and lovely and good. And it hits both marks -- good music and good lyrics. Take a listen here....I dare you not to bop along with it.
Next up? Spring. I love winter (yes, I know, but I truly do -- it's my passion for snow skiing that does it, snow and winter mean steep, snow-covered hills, moguls and fresh powder, and attacking the hill with the perfect tune on my iPod). I love winter, but spring is the herald for so many things -- stomping in mud puddles with Grif, afternoon family walks to the park, hanging outside on the deck with a beer and my pilot after the boy is in bed (and while it's still light out), grill outs, pool days, basking in the sun during my lunch hour, Fountain Square Farmer's Market, beach and lake vacations...I love it all. And it's tangible today -- the cold, snowy days are over and everything is about to bloom. I can feel it in my bones, can't you?
And last, well, the writer thing. I'm on the blog "team" here at work (yes, I'm at work now, ha!), and in the last five months, I've made the effort to blog twice. Twice! Yes, I've been insanely busy, but I can admit that even that seems a bit ridiculous. So I finally made a contribution this week (on, yes of course, wait for it....grammar -- when it's posted, I'll link to it here). I reread it this morn (cuz again of course, I'm truly obsessive compulsive in ensuring there are NO mistakes, even for something silly like a marketing blog). I read it again, and paused. It was good. Really good. And it made me smile -- call it trifecta, hat trick, whatever, but this last bit of realized happiness/joy/satisfaction/inner-smiling-ness seemed to demand a bit of acknowledgment in one crazy, all-inclusive tribute.
And so here it is. Welcome back, Spring. I didn't realize how much I'd missed you.
