Reflections on concerts, concert buddies and life....
On Friday evening I drove my daughter and her 3 friends to see a rock band play in Connecticut - just about 2 hours away. I don't mind the trip and after all it's all for rock n roll right? Well this trip got me thinking about the past shows I have been to and honestly has left me lost in a few of my own memories and missing a friend very dear to me...
Sometimes it's hard to write about the past - I believe that is why I try to avoid it. My past should sometimes be left in the past as it's not who I am it's where I am from, however I don't always feel like I have had a lot of power over my past so I'm going to write what I know.
In order to fully explain this situation, I should set the stage a bit. Growing up, my father was an alcoholic and my mother died when I was only 16 (the same age that my own daughter is right now to put that in perspective!) We grew up in a fairly decent neighborhood and we lived next door to the Robertson family. If my memory serves me well, there were three brothers (Dale, Alex, Mike) and one sister - Deb. Their dad, like mine, took to the bottle more often than not and our street was quite entertaining on major holidays and long weekends (those that recall the 4th of July with a cannon on the road will understand!) There were normal times like many families and those were good...but the bad times were often not discussed and we were left to make sense of everything with not much more than the sobriety brought about by daylight.
Deb and I were friends as we grew up, we came from the same family dynamic and we 'got' each other. There were not questions and no explanations needed. After my mother died, Deb and I spent quite a bit of time together just hanging out; whether it was walking the neighborhood or working together at the A&P. She picked up where my mother left off, but was also a trusted confidante and friend...the kind of friend you find once in a lifetime. You don't even find them, they are just there...until they are gone.
We saw many, many shows together and to quote Jerry Garcia "...if I told you about all that went down, it would probably burn out both of your ears..."
We were at West Point seeing Neil Young live in concert on the night that the ground war broke out in Iraq circa 1990 (Dessert Storm); we were at Jones Beach to see John Mellencamp the same night a tornado touched down; we saw Clapton, Bryan Adams and yes even the Grateful Dead together; certain people and establishments in New Jersey may still tell stories of our wild nights together. She was my best friend. She was also my concert buddy. Music was the way we were able to escape our neighborhood, for a moment we were simply two young women out for a night of music; we were normal - we were free to be who we wanted to be. Those days are gone but still live on in my mind. When I take my daughter and her friends to a show, I am brought back to those times and I look back fondly with no regrets (well, maybe a few but those secrets are between her and I). I want my daughter to enjoy the live show, get lost in the music and have the time of her life with her friends. I want them to take chances, risks....have fun. Get lost in the moment and make those memories that you can look back on with no regret.
Debbie, my friend, passed away not that long ago and my heart breaks even as I write this. I miss her every day of my life and wish that she and I had that last moment together, but life has a way of moving you forward and apart sometimes.
But we'll always have those nights....those crazy nights. They are a part of me.
Sometimes it's hard to write about the past - I believe that is why I try to avoid it. My past should sometimes be left in the past as it's not who I am it's where I am from, however I don't always feel like I have had a lot of power over my past so I'm going to write what I know.
In order to fully explain this situation, I should set the stage a bit. Growing up, my father was an alcoholic and my mother died when I was only 16 (the same age that my own daughter is right now to put that in perspective!) We grew up in a fairly decent neighborhood and we lived next door to the Robertson family. If my memory serves me well, there were three brothers (Dale, Alex, Mike) and one sister - Deb. Their dad, like mine, took to the bottle more often than not and our street was quite entertaining on major holidays and long weekends (those that recall the 4th of July with a cannon on the road will understand!) There were normal times like many families and those were good...but the bad times were often not discussed and we were left to make sense of everything with not much more than the sobriety brought about by daylight.
Deb and I were friends as we grew up, we came from the same family dynamic and we 'got' each other. There were not questions and no explanations needed. After my mother died, Deb and I spent quite a bit of time together just hanging out; whether it was walking the neighborhood or working together at the A&P. She picked up where my mother left off, but was also a trusted confidante and friend...the kind of friend you find once in a lifetime. You don't even find them, they are just there...until they are gone.
We saw many, many shows together and to quote Jerry Garcia "...if I told you about all that went down, it would probably burn out both of your ears..."
We were at West Point seeing Neil Young live in concert on the night that the ground war broke out in Iraq circa 1990 (Dessert Storm); we were at Jones Beach to see John Mellencamp the same night a tornado touched down; we saw Clapton, Bryan Adams and yes even the Grateful Dead together; certain people and establishments in New Jersey may still tell stories of our wild nights together. She was my best friend. She was also my concert buddy. Music was the way we were able to escape our neighborhood, for a moment we were simply two young women out for a night of music; we were normal - we were free to be who we wanted to be. Those days are gone but still live on in my mind. When I take my daughter and her friends to a show, I am brought back to those times and I look back fondly with no regrets (well, maybe a few but those secrets are between her and I). I want my daughter to enjoy the live show, get lost in the music and have the time of her life with her friends. I want them to take chances, risks....have fun. Get lost in the moment and make those memories that you can look back on with no regret.
Debbie, my friend, passed away not that long ago and my heart breaks even as I write this. I miss her every day of my life and wish that she and I had that last moment together, but life has a way of moving you forward and apart sometimes.
But we'll always have those nights....those crazy nights. They are a part of me.
Comments
Post a Comment