Nine months ago: One night, while I was listening to classical music and cleaning my oven, I noticed your Facebook status: “Got together with some new guys tonight to jam. Project might be down the road. Really stoked.” I didn’t pay much attention, figuring your last three or four efforts had remained convincingly “basement” status. But I “liked” your status just the same.
Seven months ago: You invited me to your opening show at the bowling alley down the street. You used a picture of a neon-colored Muhammed Ali as event art. The weekend prog-rock dudes who lived upstairs from us in college were opening. But I’d already told my mom I’d drive her to the airport that night. I did “like” your band’s Facebook page and told some guys at work about you.
Five months ago: You cornered me in the coffee shop and told me that I “needed” to make your CD release party (the CDs weren’t printed yet, in fact, you were toying with a digital-only release, for free). I wanted to go, I clicked “going” on Facebook, shared the event on my wall, but I joined this new co-op, and all the rhubarb came in that night, so I needed to store and freeze it, etc. Long and short of it, I texted you a nice apology and that I heard your stripped-down cover of “Video Killed the Radio Star” went over gangbusters.
Three and a half months ago: Some photos came up of you guys doing an in-studio session at the local non-profit college station. You wore a stocking cap and your new mustache looked great. The two drummers things is pretty “in” right now, too. You sent out a group message to stream the interview and performance, but I had hot yoga that night. Plus, I lost my earbuds and the factory speakers on this laptop suck.
Last month: I ran into Danielle, and she told me that Jim was leaving the band because he knocked up his girlfriend. Bummer. And I heard that you couldn’t afford practice space rent, plus the digital sales were a flop (my mom bought one!). I know you guys played that benefit show at the museum. Saw it on a poster. But, well, we had church group that night. I’ll definitely hit up the next show I swear!
Two weeks from now: Shit, I’m just seeing that you guys are holding your final show at the VFW. What a ride, huh? Yeah, you know, I’d love to go, but that’s actually the night I’m set to start dance lessons with Danielle. Yah, seriously. We, well, whatever…But, if you know, you meet some new dudes down the road, let me know, I’d love to catch up with you sometime and see you play. Remember when we jammed back in the day?! Yah, that was so fun. Oh, gotta go, Danielle just finished her rhubarb pie. See ya, brah!
Photo courtesy Roger Blackwell