Wednesday evening was one of the most relaxing evenings I've had in a long time. After a frustrating day at work, where a rather annoying pattern emerged of Websites I needed to access being removed, I padded on home. Autumn is beginning to fray the corners of Cardiff scenery; I smelled the full-bodied aroma of smoke and my feet crunched the crisp orange leaves on the ground. It is my favorite time of the year, sending jolts of passion through my senses.
After cooking Cornish pasties surrounded by macaroni and cheese, I opened my £6 bottle of red wine. I hadn't even looked at the label when I bought it, just the price. Imagine my pleasure when the wine turned out to be smoky as fall and full as a Cabernet Savignon.Wine in hand, I turned on the hot water faucet to the bath tub, poured some cinnamon and lavender bubble bath mix in for a good minute, and waited. While I waited, I found my tattered copy of Neverwhere (a Neil Gaiman book that has followed me through France, Spain, England and Scotland now).
Soon, my aches and pains and worries had dispersed. I got lost in Richard and Door's story, warmed by wine, and padded by scented bubbles.
Thursday morning was as far from wine and bubbles as it could be. The ground was wet and the air was icy and I had to sprint across a street to avoid a brutal death by speeding car. When I got to the sidewalk, my right foot felt lightning bolts sear through it.
I hobbled to work, sat at my desk all day, limped home and discovered a nasty blue-ish orange bruise covering half my foot. Ouch.
Pain had nothing on me, though. Nothing was keeping me from the Blues Brothers show, so I limped to St. David's Hall to hear the songs that reminded me of high school.
Yes, I was a band nerd, in the best possible sense. I played flute and trombone, neither extraordinarily. I worked hard and loved making music, and band was my life.
We played a Blues Brothers show once... (remember "We all know that Michigan sucks"?). That was years ago, across an ocean, and in the very heart of a different country. Hearing the tribute band take on those songs in Cardiff; ah! Music not to me ears, but to my heart.
A little sad, a lot nostalgic, I listened to those songs. They made me think of the paths we take in life. I chose to give up music to focus on writing when I got to college. What if I had pursued music? Several of my more musically-inclined, hard working, talented classmates went into music. What are they doing now? I wonder if they still feel that rush, that high, from creating something so beautiful it can render a person speechless, create a need for dancing or incite weeping.Music shapes people's lives, not just those of the musicians.
For instance, a young couple who got engaged last night were called on to the stage during the show to join in the performance. They will never be able to think of their engagement without thinking of the Blues Brothers.
I will never think of high school, or of growing up, without thinking of the band. So, to Mr. Hoffmann, Ms. P., Mr. Mahan, my Cedarville High School bandmates and my fellow 'boners, thank you for helping me make the music that helped make me. And to all you band nerds out there just starting out, savor every second and every note. The music ends too fast.
