Lyrical Envy

I was headed to town for a week of conferences and music, and planned my departure time to put me in town right at lunch. Lunch that He and I would have, per our plans made the week prior. The day before though He messaged me to cancel, saying he had a very important appointment that could not be missed. “It better be a good reason” I said. He typed. Paused. Typed again. Finally the message came over. “Marriage counseling.”

My week of music had just begun, and the thing I was looking forward to the most – the one thing I wanted more than anything – was the free concert that He and I would be attending. We spoke the day of, me informing him that another act was going on after the one we were interested in; this second act also being one I knew he’d enjoy. We spoke of catching both. Made plans to meet up later. 

I arrived with a friend and immediately texted Him to inform of my presence. He was still on the way, leaving my friend Z and I to wander around the park checking out the vendors and their wares. I was constantly scanning the crowd, wondering when He’d show. Z could tell something was off; my mind was clearly elsewhere, but he never said anything. 

We positioned ourselves in front of the massive stage. I ignored Z as I constantly scanned the crowd, turning every which direction. Still no sign of Him. The band began to take the stage. He was going to miss it. Finally the text came in that he was there. I described our location and waited anxiously. The band began to play. I kept looking and scanning. Z pointed out the guy in the crowd next to us and his immediately identifiable headwear and suggested I use that as a point of reference for Him. I sent the text. And moments later, there He was, coming through the crowd to me. 

Huge hug. The kind where you hang on like you might never get another. Introductions were made, the show was watched, people in the crowd were mocked. The band finished up. He said he was going to leave. I objected. Did he not say earlier that He was interested in the next act? How unfair was it to come stand by my side for just an hour? When were we supposed to actually talk?

Z moved up in the crowd to get closer for the next act and motioned for me to follow. I told him I’d be right there, remaining in my spot until I got the answer I wanted. He obligied, agreeing to stay for a bit longer. Happy, I asked him what was new and how things were. He asked the same of me. I gave him the run down – wonderful new job that I love. Wonderful friends that I love. Busy. Oh, and started dating someone. 

This news was met with a grimace. “I don’t like that”, he said. I asked why; knowing the real reason but curious to see what he’d come up with. “I just don’t. Because you dating someone there means you’re less likely to come back here.” I rolled my eyes. Gave him our line. “I do not pick where I live based upon some man.” A statement I shortly contradicted.

When was I coming back, he asked? I smiled. He knows the answer. There are no plans to. I looked up at him and said “I’d come back. Under very. specific. conditions.” He smiled back at me then looked away at the stage.

The second act began. We stood there as night fell and listened. Neither one of us that excited about the show really. Him staying only because of me, me staying only because of him. Finally he announced that he was leaving. I didn’t argue. Just wrapped my arms around him as he did me. 

We stood there like that for what seemed like a very long time yet wasn’t quite long enough. My head resting on his chest; his chin on the top of my head. The music played. I gazed out over the skyline into the city lights, enveloped in the warmth of the man I love. And then he left.

From the stage came the words: “He was a good man but now he’s gone.”

And then came the tears.

From the very beginning, it was what I wanted. He and I were outside at work, smoking a cigarette and chatting. I had just recently put together the whole band thing… that his band was the very one that a former coworker used to flyer every desk in the office with. I had no idea of their music. But I knew him. And I’d always wanted to do something in the music industry. I can’t play. Always been drawn to musicians though. Been bringing home bands since I was in high school.

I inquired of their management situation. They had one, he said, but they weren’t very good. Okay then. Time went on and opportunites to help presented themselves. They knew nothing about promotion. Were completely unorganized. I began to see first hand how bad the managers were. Heard the complaints all the time. Did what I could; my control-freak tendencies taking over. 

One night I came over to help him out with their online presence. Taught him how to use Twitter. Killed off my entire venting system in the process. Deleted the really good ones, the ones that were obviously about him. Gave up that part of me. For them. 

Time went on. They got more and more upset and frustrated with their managers. I did too; annoyed by stupid stuff in general, even more so when it affects the people I love. But I had begun to get tired of things. I had to get out. I set my escape plan in motion. Followed through with it. Moved on.

I kept control over one thing though. Anytime someone un-followed their Twitter account, I’d get the email. And about a month after I said good bye in an airport, I got the email that their manager had decided they were no longer worth following. It came while I was out with friends. They refused to let me say anything to him about it. Didn’t want me to go back.

In a month though, a lot had happened. I had gotten distance. Space. Found a new crowd, fell in love with going out to benefits and hob-nobbing with the who’s who. Preferred it much more than sitting on a patio listening to the same old shit, smoking a pack of cigarettes, being exposed to things I never dreamed. I suddenly had a weath of information about the music business, contacts and connections. I hated to waste it. It killed me. I felt like such an idiot telling people “Well, I used to work with this band, but I don’t anymore…” What if I went back? It’d be okay. Everything was different. I was centered. Grounded. I could do this.

So I did. Forwarded Bassist the email and asked what the hell was going on. His reply was brief and short, a simple “we’re done.” I asked for more. He responded. I asked again. This time he decided to respond via chat. I kept it entirely about the business. Never once asked how he was or what was new. In the middle of a lengthy conversation, he typed “oh. btw. hi. :)” 

It went slowly from there. I offered to help out with things. He accepted. We met for dinner. It went well. He hugged me when I arrived, asked if I missed him. I was silent. By the end of the night though it was clear to me. I did miss him. I didn’t miss everything else that tended to come along, but him I missed. I missed them all. We discussed me doing their promotions. He asked for a contract and proposal; them having been burnt by the deal in the past. I caught a show a few weeks later. I’d been missed too. But I still kept my distance. Had to. I could do this.

A label came calling. They almost lost it. At a show one night I simply laid it out. “I should be your manager.” I had no idea how excited they’d be over the idea. Before they even went on stage, it was done. I was now responsible for the musical careers and general don’t fuck it up ness of five grown boys. At times, they drive me absolutely insane. It’s herding cats. Cats who don’t know what the other ones have done even though they all live together. If nothing else, this is all excellent for me getting over my control-freak self.

______________________________________________________________________

I wonder if he remembers. The night we went to a show with a friend, and he and I went to the bar to get a drink. I had just met with a video producer earlier that week. Young guy, full of great ideas and contacts; here was someone doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. And my in to that was this band I knew and the video they wanted to shoot. 

At the bar I laid it out completely. “I’m using you” I told him. Not sure I’ll ever forget the look of surprise on his face. I elaborated further, explaining that I wanted to be that guy, that I wanted to meet the people he knew, have the same connections, live that life. My way in was through this little project. Plus it would be fun as hell. 

It’s funny how life changes. I got all of that, on my own. Decided I wanted to use it. Knew exactly how I could. Did it.

Cause I can do this.