It is an unfortunate side effect of life that you will have things you don't want to face. People, situations, places, sad reminders of how we wish things could be. The "what if list" that you reveal to no one. The job you wish you had. The falling out between friends or family that never really gets resolved. The things that are never said to the ones we love.
Most days you never think of them. Then a certain song pops up. The email arrives. You hear about them third hand. You turn a corner and you are face to face with an old issue that you didn't even realize was still festering in your subconscious.
The last band I managed had a lot of potential. The singer is a very talented kid with a tough history. The type of person that has enough scars to make good art. He and I were always fine, but I could never get on the same page as his band. Ultimately they had more pull with him than I, and we parted. You cannot help people that don't trust you so trying to build a bridge is futile. Like so many other characters of my bio, they drifted away. They signed to a label and are about to release their record. They are on a few mag covers and on all the cool kid web sites. They are heading out to do Warped Tour in a few weeks.
At the new ultra hipster gas station themed bar (that I am not cool enough to drink in, because I am not rocking enough beard or kissing my male friends on the lips, as a joke) I ran into the boys from the band. They were dressed to kill, with a photographer in tow. It was all smiles as we chatted. They filled me in on all the cool stuff they are doing. I hugged the singer. I wished them luck. I was fine. Once free of the DMZ, I felt an old familiar sting, residual emotion reserved for ex lovers, and arch rivals. I was charged up for battle and had no foe to vanquish so naturally ...I attacked myself.
It's funny. Even if I could step back into Ari Golds shoes, I am sure I wouldn't. Still, I am left staring into the fun house mirror. This weird feeling will go away ....RIGHT?
w.b.z.n.
3 comments:
Is that bar any good? I avoid Midtown like the plague unless I need taquitos at midnight. These days, my compadres and I drink at the Rusty Bucket, that biker bar in the Kmart strip on the Parkway. Come by some Monday and do bar trivia. Useless factoids and cheap beer will cure what ails ya.
"...photographer in tow" made me throw up in my mouth. Now I wish I had a beard to hide behind or a dude to kiss this taste away.
They made a big mistake and I am sure it won't be their last. You will see them again on the long slow slide to the middle.
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