It happened again. I woke suddenly from a deep sleep. Heart racing, body trembling, and clothes damp in a cold sweat. I sat up to take inventory of my surroundings, to try to escape that repeating nightmare, to bring myself back to the present. I was 21, maybe 22. Living in a tiny loft apartment in downtown Milwaukee. I was in college, feeling hopelessly lost. It was summer break. I looked next to me and saw this soft man, with these perfectly curled lips and I scooted closer to him. Half asleep, he asked if I had had another one of those dreams. Yes, I had, but I was okay again. Back to sleep.
This man. Do you ever close your eyes and think about the specific events in your life that all needed to conspire to take place at the right time to get you to that exact very moment? This was one of those moments. I dated a boy before this man who quite enthusiastically took it upon himself to teach me all about the "real" indie rock...the small record labels...the secret shows....the bands you'll one day catch yourself saying "yeah, well I know them before....". I am so thankful for that boy who made music a part of my life. Like a seventh sense. It was an integral part of me. It made me feel alive. This man? With the perfectly curled lips? I found his band online. I happened to fall in love with the lyrics, and in true indie music spirit I stopped at the local record store to BUY THE CD. Sure this was still in the age of free downloads at the tip of your fingertips, but I felt that out of respect for this little band that I so loved they needed my $12 probably. And so I listened to this cd on repeat as I drove around in my little Toyota Celica and memorized every word, wondering if I could ever have a good voice. Did I have a good voice? Doubtful. Could I harmonize with someone? Very doubtful.
The time came. It was end of second semester and I KNEW that I was going to fail my Organic Chemistry exam. I just knew it. Damn all that memorization. But as I walked out of that final exam, feeling doubtful and making a vow to myself that I would never ever take that class again, my friend picked me up and rushed me to the airport. I had friends in Toronto. It was only a 45-minute flight from Milwaukee and I loved going there. They lived in a very large, very old, very industrial (read: kind of inhabitable?) loft. Nothing quite made sense, but I loved it. It was in an industrial part of town, next to a Chocolate factory. We would climb a ladder in one of their bedrooms to the roof where whiffs of melting chocolate would drift by as we sipped whiskey and stared at the vast skyline. That day, after my last exam that haunted me, I was rushing to the airport to jump a plane to see this very band for the first time. I could hardly contain my excitement.
My Toronto friends were waiting at the airport with a bottle of whisky in their hand. Never had I wanted a drink more! Things are a bit blurry after that. I do know this much. I found the singer that night. I told him that I was fairly certain I had failed my organic chemistry exam so it was clearly time for a a change in my life. I asked if he wanted to go on a ROAD TRIP with me. I was out of my mind, but that's usually when I'm at my best.
The details will be filled in at another time, but that man with the perfectly curled lips? He was the singer of that band that I had listened to for so long. And he was stroking my hair so I would fall back asleep. And he would leave more of an impression on my life than I ever thought possible.
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