A moment
I caught a bottle of wine tonight. Not a full one, but not an empty one, either.
Given that I am a beer drinker, that is most unusual - but it is strangely meaningful to me at this moment.
The past week has been rough, from someone duplicating my debit card to gremlins invading our systems at work. Coupled with the changes my life has gone through this summer, I have been in need of an escape hatch for days. The hatch opened, and a friend offered me a ticket to a show.
I love music, live music especially, and this band is an old favorite - bombastic goth rock, loud, driving, and sensual. I used to take pictures at every show I went to, trying to capture enough on my camera to bring the feelings from the shows home. I have a lot of pictures, but the grip, the connection, the peace I felt during the shows did not last outside the venue, and as more people became iCapable, the pictures I took did not seem worth the effort.
So, my camera left at home, my last few bucks for a beer in my pocket, and off to the show I go. The music was enjoyable, but the equipment troubles were getting in the way of my peace. During one of the many spells of equipment fiddling, I think I started to realize why the live shows matter so much. For a brief time, you can be connected in an incredibly intimate way to anyone around you. The bass pounding your ribs is pounding the ribs of anyone you choose to watch, at the same moment. The shared physical experience is nearly as good as skin on skin, and is free of the effort it takes to get that close to someone. Live shows always put out, always leave me happy, and I can always go to another, no judgements cast, no fear. Live music doesn't leave, it is committed.
And then the lead singer mentions gremlins. Now, that is interesting, and the connection expands, past all the gorgeous women in the audience, to the band. They are feeling the same pain I have felt all week, and called it out by the same name. Somehow, another circle completes around me, and I can see that I am on the right planet after all. The band and crew are doing what I have done all week, pushing on, reality be damned. And they fix one problem after another. The lead guitarist's amp blows during one of their biggest songs. And they push on, telling jokes and making it work.
and the gremlins are banished, in time for 'Tower of Strength', their closing number for the second encore. And they nail it. Those of us that stayed with them through all the gremlin attacks are rewarded, and we dance. Connection deepens, and a dram of peace finally enters my soul.
During this song, Wayne Hussey tosses the bottle of really good cab that he has been drinking into the audience, not in a mean or careless way, but as if to offer it to someone who might need it. At least that is what I believe, and that is real enough for me.
That is the bottle I caught, 15 feet from the stage, mid-air, and with plenty of wine to further my peace.
I kept the bottle, despite the objections of venue security as I left. One man's trash is another man's treasure, as far as music souvenirs go, right?
But tonight, the music, that bottle, and the wine in it, were all gifts to the heart of a man that needed it. It really was a good catch. I wish I had a video of it, but the memory will do.
EDIT: Should have known that wish would be granted, at least to some degree.
Given that I am a beer drinker, that is most unusual - but it is strangely meaningful to me at this moment.
The past week has been rough, from someone duplicating my debit card to gremlins invading our systems at work. Coupled with the changes my life has gone through this summer, I have been in need of an escape hatch for days. The hatch opened, and a friend offered me a ticket to a show.
I love music, live music especially, and this band is an old favorite - bombastic goth rock, loud, driving, and sensual. I used to take pictures at every show I went to, trying to capture enough on my camera to bring the feelings from the shows home. I have a lot of pictures, but the grip, the connection, the peace I felt during the shows did not last outside the venue, and as more people became iCapable, the pictures I took did not seem worth the effort.
So, my camera left at home, my last few bucks for a beer in my pocket, and off to the show I go. The music was enjoyable, but the equipment troubles were getting in the way of my peace. During one of the many spells of equipment fiddling, I think I started to realize why the live shows matter so much. For a brief time, you can be connected in an incredibly intimate way to anyone around you. The bass pounding your ribs is pounding the ribs of anyone you choose to watch, at the same moment. The shared physical experience is nearly as good as skin on skin, and is free of the effort it takes to get that close to someone. Live shows always put out, always leave me happy, and I can always go to another, no judgements cast, no fear. Live music doesn't leave, it is committed.
And then the lead singer mentions gremlins. Now, that is interesting, and the connection expands, past all the gorgeous women in the audience, to the band. They are feeling the same pain I have felt all week, and called it out by the same name. Somehow, another circle completes around me, and I can see that I am on the right planet after all. The band and crew are doing what I have done all week, pushing on, reality be damned. And they fix one problem after another. The lead guitarist's amp blows during one of their biggest songs. And they push on, telling jokes and making it work.
and the gremlins are banished, in time for 'Tower of Strength', their closing number for the second encore. And they nail it. Those of us that stayed with them through all the gremlin attacks are rewarded, and we dance. Connection deepens, and a dram of peace finally enters my soul.
During this song, Wayne Hussey tosses the bottle of really good cab that he has been drinking into the audience, not in a mean or careless way, but as if to offer it to someone who might need it. At least that is what I believe, and that is real enough for me.
That is the bottle I caught, 15 feet from the stage, mid-air, and with plenty of wine to further my peace.
I kept the bottle, despite the objections of venue security as I left. One man's trash is another man's treasure, as far as music souvenirs go, right?
But tonight, the music, that bottle, and the wine in it, were all gifts to the heart of a man that needed it. It really was a good catch. I wish I had a video of it, but the memory will do.
EDIT: Should have known that wish would be granted, at least to some degree.