You can already tell this morning that it’s going to be a hot day. Seems silly to start with a hot coffee, but habits are habits and there’s some comfort in a routine. Starbucks is too full – there’s no place to sit either inside or out. I put the bag with the lemon pound cake in my clenched teeth and pick up my music, and notebook, and coffee and head to the park. I find a wall to sit on, with my back to the playground and a hill of clover falling away from me into the trees. A breeze shifts through the deep dappled shade carrying with it a fresh green sensation that’s certain to burn off as the day arrives, so I’d better enjoy it now. I lay the pound cake out and take a sip of coffee, letting the warmth of the cup work on the fatigue in my hands. The notebook can wait a minute, I’ll just close my eyes and listen to the insects’ chattering rise and fall. The gnats are already on me, but I shut them out and take a cleansing breath.
You come to me and rouse me with a gentle touch, tickling the hair sticking out of the back of my hat.
“You look tired, how was your week?”
Hey you – how’d you find me here?
“I don’t think it’d be good to look too hard into that: it might break the spell.”
Yeah, you’re right… Generally it was a tough week without much to recommend it. It had two truly bright spots though, three now. The other two were musical in nature.
“Well you can talk to me more about the third bright spot later, but what were the two musical ones?”
First, I got those CD’s in the mail. We’d been talking about them so long that the anticipation had really built, and high expectations can be tricky. They really blew me away – not even high expectations were enough to match their reality. I’ve got Bebo cued up right now in my earphones.
“I hoped you’d like them. I do.”
They made me think of some stuff for you.
“Yeah, what?”
Soon enough, be patient a couple days.
“Okay then, don’t tell me. I know you already know… Anyway, what was the other musical moment?”
Hugh’s band show at that benefit downtown.
“Oh yeah; that was good? I wish I’d gone.”
Yeah? I wished you were there.
“Well, I think we deserve a wish to come true, and even if neither of us do alone, you’d think that both wishing together would count for some extra credit.”We are due, aren’t we? Put your forehead up against mine, and we’ll wish again. Got it? on 3,… 1,…2,… 3,… wish. Done?
“In a sec. MmmHmm.”
Now hand me the pen and sit here next to me. Let me think of something to start with…
I’m hurrying out of the office; it’s already 5:45, and the show’s flier says it starts at 6:00. I’m barely keeping a hold on my bag, which in turn is barely keeping in the paperwork I jammed into it on the way out. My balled up shirt, t-shirt, and tie are under me other arm (I wanted to at least put on a fresh shirt… “Looks nice”). As I turn into the back elevator lobby you’re hurrying the other way, and I have to jump to keep from running you over (“How do you know you wouldn’t have been the one run over?” Well, I guess now we’ll never know.”) and I lose the handle on everything – at least my glasses stayed on, barely.
Well this is obviously a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you.
“Well (“as you say”), it turns out I’m in town of a sudden and was trying to catch you before you left for that show. Here, here’s your papers and phone.”
You should’ve just called.
“My phone’s died.”
Right, I get it, we’ve got to hurry to get there, do you mind if I drive?
“Can you be safe?”
We’ll see. Grab that water, would you?
“A water and a cereal bar? What’s this?”
Dinner?
“Nice, that seems very nutritious.”
Well, I better have something: I didn’t get to my lunch today and we don’t have time to stop for dinner on the way, and it’s an open bar – I think tonight that might mean all the cola I can drink…
“What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?”
Yikes, don’t remind me right now. Yeah, that’s the other thing, gotta be up early.
“You still riding your bike in?”
Generally yes, but tomorrow no. Not because of the show, but because I want to replace the pulleys.
“Oh yeah, of course, the pulleys.”
Okay, sorry, not tomorrow ‘cause I need to do some work on it first.
“It’s just easier to follow when you speak English.”
Wait, give me a second before you get in to get rid of the CD’s out of the seat and get rid of the garbage bag, plus I gotta toss my work stuff in the trunk.
“You just put your ‘dinner’ in the trunk.”
Thanks, still a little off balance with you showing up.
“Well, if I’m spoiling your plans…”
I’m sure you shouldn’t be like that. Come on, jump in. You can pick the CD after you buckle up. It’s not that hot or humid this evening, would you rather drive with the windows down or use the A/C?
“Whatever you like better is fine.”
Neither’s gonna do anything to my hair is why I ask…
“I’ve got a brush, I’ll be fine.”
The lights favor us, and it feels good to feel the air move after being caught indoors all day, and there’s a good driving song on (you mind if I play that one again? “I picked it, why would I mind?” You know, this one might work its way onto that set list. “It’s getting to be a long list.” Well, push something into an encore list then.), and it’s looking good for not being too late. Then, just as I’m finishing my ‘dinner’, at the end of Whitehurst: K street gridlock (“Should’ve taken the E street expressway.” Oh sure, now you say something. Why didn’t you tell me then? “Thought you knew what you were doing.” Hello? ‘off balance’, remember? “I think you might be exaggerating a bit.”) (Hey! You don’t get to close the parentheses after a remark like that: give yourself a little more credit won’t you? “Maybe I’ll try to listen a bit more.”).
Now we’re going to be late for sure, if we make it at all. Hey! Look out! Didn’t know we were allowed to turn left from the right lane in the District. What’s this guy doing parking? He could at least get into the service lanes: look, he’s just going in to Starbucks. The buses don’t make it any easier either, or the jaywalkers. Okay, definitely too warm now, would you roll your window up and I’ll put on the A/C – let me know if it gets too cold for you. Now we’re moving a bit; I’m going to go down 13th now, should get there at about 6:20, so even if they start right on time we won’t miss much. Doesn’t look like we can park on the street ‘til 6:30 anyway. Let’s just circle and enjoy the CD then. This one’s pretty mellow; the rest of the evening won’t be.
“That reminds me, what is the musical selection going to be like tonight?”
Well, all of it would get filed under ‘play it loud’: Pixies, White Stripes, AC/DC, Modern English, Cars, Wheezer – all party music 80’s and onward. We could find a parking spot now. How about that one?
“No, don’t settle too early, I’ll find a better one.”
That’s pretty confident. There’s another.
“No, trust me, I feel things are in my favor tonight.”Alright, you’re the fortune teller.
“There it is – up there on the right.”
Wow, right across the street. What else does the future hold tonight?
“I don’t want to get too far ahead and spoil it for you.”
Hmm. Good answer.
“And look at you all parallel parking.”Well, sometimes when you’re on…
“Mind your language, there’s a lady present.”
Jenny’s a lady, why doesn’t she have to watch her language?
“Something about a woman’s prerogative.”
Ah. You ready to go in?
“Not sure, who are you going to know here?”
Hugh and Pete primarily, the rest of the band I recognize but don’t know, then there’s usually someone else at the show that I know but didn’t expect. Look, I tell you what, if it’s bad-weird we’ll leave and go get dinner somewhere – deal?
“You’re on.”
Cross the street to the Homer building (Doh!) and cut through the Metro Center exit to get to the front door (didn’t know you could find Caribou coffee here in town) which is still unlocked. The doorman can tell we’re not here for work and he just winks and nods to the sign on the easel pointing us toward the North Elevators. The lobby is wide open with severe geometric Wright-like marble architecture. In the elevator lobby the next sign points to the right-most elevator and tells us to take it to ‘PHR’. I push the ‘up’ button on the wall that the sign seems to point to, but the building engineer waiting for the service elevator steps over and points inside the doorframe to a different button: /“There’s the one you want buddy”/
Thanks.
/“S’nothin’, have a good evening”/
You too, Chief. I wonder if there’s a secret password or handshake also?
“‘PHR’? I wonder what that stands for.”
Maybe it doesn’t stand for anything, maybe you just pronounce it: fîr.
“Maybe it’s Party Holding Region.”Uh, well,…
“It’s a better idea than ‘fîr’”
True, but not as good as PentHouse Roof.
“Why didn’t you just say that first?”
Where’s the fun in that? Finally, here’s the elevator. It’s relatively unassuming for a penthouse elevator – the fan and plywood ceiling are exposed above and the walls are draped with a beat up moving pad. Rises fine though, and soon the back door opens up to a little stairwell with restroom doors on either side. The next sign points us up the stairs and out the door onto the roof walkway along the north side of the building. The walkway turns the corner to the west side of the building, and now we can see the roof patio. The band’s stuff is set up at the southwest corner, and the bar at the north side. Pause for a minute to pay to achieve ‘supporter’ status (no, really, put your money away, I got it – you can buy the drinks. “I thought you said it was open bar.” Exactly.). I don’t see any of the band – no wait, there’s Hugh talking to that woman. It’s okay, he’s waving us over. He introduces us to Sarah, and when I introduce you he says how he’s glad to see you made it and how he’s wanted to meet you (he’s a good brother, isn’t he?). He also says he wants to show me something about his drum kit. He needs to let me know out of earshot that this is not the Sara he’s giving my State Theatre ticket to, it’s a different Sarah so I should not bring it up since it may cause unrest. I don’t tell him that I had forgotten about that.
When Hugh and I get back, Buffy and Pete have joined you (Buffy – yes her real name – does vocals and tambourine, Pete plays lead guitar and is a good friend of Hugh’s). Buffy knows me, but I’ve never met her so it’s a little strange. She tells me how it’s cool I’m able to come out and see Hugh’s band. Hugh’s band? Geez Buffy, Pete’s standing right there. Well sure, she says, but I’m Hugh’s brother. That’s when it dawns on me that the only reason she knows me is that Hugh’s said something. Or maybe I need to be on my guard,… maybe a bit of explanation is in order, let’s excuse ourselves to get a drink, eh?
“So? What?”
Wait a minute – Hey Colin – okay so the band keeps in flux over John needing to be able to sing better. Maybe three weeks ago Hugh and Pete were talking like they were done with it. That’s about how it would split: Hugh and Pete on one side, John and Buffy on another (they might be a couple, I can’t quite tell), and Colin I’m not sure about. John’s definitely the best showman: he’s out front and is responsible for most of the style details of the band, and when he relaxes into a song he can sound good. Pete is probably the best musician (Colin’s good too, they just don’t ask much out of the bass line). Anyway, this spring, Hugh and Guy (my other brother – plays bass) started kicking around an idea of doing some music together whenever Guy’s around, and we started passing music around to get an idea of what we’d like to do. I think that might’ve planted a seed in Hugh’s head that he had an alternative to playing behind John and Buffy. I realized I was just being selfish, trying to do things the easy way: if I really want to do that I should get the people together myself instead, so I dropped the idea (well, I still like the idea, I just don’t talk to Hugh about it). There’s still tension around it though, and a suspicion. The band practices in my mom’s attic (yeah, my mom is cool), so I see everybody from time to time (actually, I’ve never met Buffy before), but only Hugh and Pete actually speak to me beyond pleasantries. John actually looks through me mostly (which is tough: I’m fairly dense) – or maybe I just project that on him. It’s hard to say, since we don’t really talk (“So, you could decide to talk to him.” Funny you should mention that – Hugh and Pete and I went to a birthday party in Adams Morgan the next Saturday and the rest of the band showed up, and we hung around at the Blue Room for hours and got to know/trust/relax around each other – but for the purposes of this story you should forget about that.).
Somebody’s on a mic making remarks now about how great it is we could all be here to support the next Miss USA. And here’s Natalie – who’s certainly attractive, but will probably not be the next Miss USA. In fact, she ought not spend too much time around you this evening: it’d hurt her confidence I think. This guy could’ve worked on his remarks a bit. First of all, it’s always off-putting when Mr. White Suburbia (Is there a contest for that? What would the talent portion consist of?) tries to be ghetto. He keeps saying, ‘Let’s put it up’ for this person or that, when I’m sure he means ‘give it up’ (Shoot, even Mr. Middle Aged White Guy – I was asked to enter, but couldn’t raise the money – knows that), and when he tells Natalie, ‘Girl. You got it going on,’ it’s just painful. Then when you think he’s done all the damage he can do, he introduces ‘E.B.’, the ‘Special Guest’, by making a point of saying he doesn’t listen to his radio show and so he doesn’t have any idea who ‘E.B.’ is, but that he’s sure that he’s welcome anyway. Nice.
Finally, the band looks like they’re going to start. I’m going to sit for now, would you sit with me? It was kind of a long day and I just need to chill for a while, listen, and sip soda and check out the scene. I’ll start with the atmospherics: the sun is accelerating its descent, giving dramatic lighting to the monuments and throwing the architecture of the nearby buildings into sharper relief. The sky seems brighter and deeper behind the shadowed buildings. A light breeze is shifting around the light clouds and jet contrails, darker low clouds give a grey underline for the bright white wisps above. A purple line of clouds on the horizon looks menacing, but nothing’s in the forecast. The bright blue open intervals seem very deep with a hazy volume.
The people are also very dramatic – is it because we’re in downtown D.C. or because we’re at a benefit? That dress is very extreme between the bright background and sharp pattern. That hat really grabs your eye with all the stripes. There are a lot of severe color combinations. That man in the striped shirt and patterned bowtie is trying to make some kind of statement. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many scarves in July before.
“How about that woman in the floral print – she’s really moving. Or those glasses she’s wearing. And why are any of the men wearing jackets?”
Wait, turn around for a second: 3 people on their cell phones and 2 with their crackberry’s…
/“Excuse me, but you look really familiar to me, and I’ve been trying to decide if it’s that we went to school together”/
This dude just came right up between our chairs and squatted down between us, facing you, in the middle of our conversation. You lean forward to look around him and catch my eye.
Yeah, I was thinking you looked familiar too. Was that you I was just speaking to?
“Come to think of it, I recognize you Uly, but not him.”
Me neither, but wait, let me see your profile man,… nope, I got nothing.
/“Look, I just wanted to talk to the lady”/
Can’t blame you, oh wait, don’t go away mad,… it was just getting fun…
“That was weird.”
Were we too rough? I feel a little guilty.
“If it’ll make you fell better about it, I’ll leave you here and go back to talk to him.”You’re very devilish you know.
“I don’t know what you could be referring to.”
The band’s dedicating this song to the ladies (for about the third time already), proclaiming it the greatest song of the eighties (Any guesses? Yeah, I had a few too, all wrong): Modern English, I’ll Stop the World (and Melt with You). That gives me an idea, and I peck out a text message to Hugh: [I think I just heard Sarah say she’d stop the world and melt with Hugh].
“You’re a bit devilish yourself.”
Hey, it’s what big brothers do. Plus look – she’s barely aware of her date as she watches the band.
The next song’s a dedication too. John says, /“This one goes out to…”/, and the crowd guesses, /“the ladies?”/. Nope, fooled us, this one’s for Natalie, Psychadelic Furs, Pretty in Pink (which is ironic, ‘cause I understand the song to be about a woman who’s attractive but sad and desperate – nice dedication, eh?). Next up, AC/DC’s Rocked Me (All Night Long), which prompts another text to Hugh: [Now I could swear I heard Sarah say, Hugh rocked me all night long].
“That might’ve gone too far.”
I guarantee he’ll laugh out loud. And look, she and her date are both dancing, and they’re within 3 feet of each other, but I wouldn’t call that ‘together’ would you?
“No, you’re right about that.”
We’ve reached the end of the first set, and I signal Hugh to check his phone. After a few seconds, he bursts out laughing. A few more seconds and he’s laughing louder, and his ears turn red, and he points at me and mouths, “I’m gonna get you, bro’”. I’m going back to the bar – think I’ll have this evening’s beer this time – you want me to get you anything?
“Just get me whatever you’re getting; I’m going to go powder my nose.”
Okay, I’ll meet you back here.
At the bar, I realize what I’ve set myself up for: I don’t have any idea what you’d get, so I actually do have to order what I’d get instead of being able to get two of what you’d get (Yeah, what would you get ordinarily? “Tell you what, here’s a way to find out: take me out somewhere again and watch.” Note to self: pay more attention to this one, she likes to cultivate a sense of mystery. “Is it not captivating?” That might be a part of it.)
I get back to the table and sit down, placing your drink in front of your chair. A quick scan around doesn’t reveal anybody I’d rather be talking with, so I let my eyes close lightly and try to rub some of the week’s tension out of my eyelids (“Was it that bad of a week?” This week let me know early that it meant to take me down. “But it hasn’t…” I’ve been sure to conquer this week in every possible fashion so as not to give it any hope of beating me, just Friday left to go.).
/“Excuse me, are you here for the hostess, or are you here with the band?”/
I open my eyes – yes she’s talking to me, standing leaning in from in front of the table, holding something with a lemon twist in it.
I’m here with the band.
/“Do you work with one of them?”/
No, I’m related to one of them.
/“Which one?”/
My brother, guess which.
/“Colin?”/
No, geez no (I do not think I look like Colin), Hugh, the drummer.
/“Oh yeah, of course – say, would you want to come sit with me and my friend? She and I both work with John.”/
I think that’s likely to seem awkward when my friend returns from the restroom.
/“Oh, okay, maybe we’ll talk later.”/
Enjoy the rest of the show.
“What was that about?”
Something along the lines of: did I go to school around here – we must be looking especially fun to be with tonight.
“Happens all the time to me…”
Not me, must be something you do to me.
“I see it, it works well for you.”
The band kicks into its second set, saving us from a conversation we wanted to save for later (“How much later?” I’m not sure, probably not even this story. “Don’t wait forever.” Yeah, like Neil sings, ‘I could go anytime’, I know; still there’s a time for the chorus and a time for the bridge.). John’s got an a satin shirt with no buttons, and he’s dedicating another song to the ladies. Later, there’s another dedication to Natalie. This time it’s J. Geils Band: Centerfold, which is quite tasteless as a dedication I think. Hell, the girl’s parents are here. The crowd’s loosened up more, and the dance space is starting to fill up. I’m sorry, I know you want to, but I don’t tonight – maybe catch up with me this weekend in Adams Morgan.
In the second break, Buffy and John are signaling me up front like they’ve got a secret. I look for Hugh, but he’s nowhere to be spotted. John comes over to me and says, /“Come up front, we need your help with something.”/ This doesn’t seem right, since John’s never said three words to me before, but I go up…
When I get up there, the lights come back up and Hugh’s in the back with a wireless mic: ‘Tonight, we’ve got a special introduction for you, my brother’s agreed to sing us a song!’ Yeah, funny Hugh, now I’ll go back and sit and try to sink into my chair… but the crowd’s interested, and Buffy and Pete won’t let me leave the front (Why? Why did I send those text messages?). I’m going to bomb this one, I need help – you’re not where you were sitting, so I guess it’s just me. No. You’ve come up to the front of the stage – clapping and urging me on. Come on, this is our open mic, do this with me.
You borrow John’s guitar and we set up a mic stand in the center. Turn to me a moment, we need a plan. The crowd’s pushed in up front, and they’re chanting and clapping rhythmically, building in volume and frequency. Forehead to forehead now; we should play somethings from the stuff we just shared. I tell you my favorite from what you sent me (“Good, I’ve been playing that one already”), and you choose the obvious one from what I put together for you. Simultaneously, we both suggest the same third song – that’s more than enough (More than that, and we’ll have to get paid.). We turn back to the mic and the band’s just grinning at us: ‘gotcha’ it says. The crowd up front waits, their chanting broken open, also grinning at the spectacle. Back at the bar is a constant drone of conversation oblivious to what’s going on at the stage. We get the opening timing mixed up, but keep going until I confuse the words, getting ahead. We stop to start over, and there is a smattering of giggles. I use the mic to ask for a beer – Natalie’s sister was bringing one up from the bar for somebody, but re-routes it up to me. I take a drink, bring it down to look at the bottle, wipe it on my flop-sweaty forehead, and take another swig. You wave it over to you and do the same. You ready? You shake your head ‘no’ and shrug your shoulders. Yeah, me neither, but it’s time… and the opening comes together right, and I remember the words in the right order, and we’re passing off the vocals very naturally, and we’re nailing it. It’s just flowing, and it feels right, and it’s just you and me. Even the self-important talking at the bar stops to listen. Pete picks up and lays in a few hooks, and Hugh sits to drop a quiet rhythm line in with one stick. We trade verses and come together for the chorus, and soon everyone’s coming in on the chorus. Our second choice is more personal, so I wave off Hugh and you do the same to Pete. A couple stools get pulled up for us and we keep the feeling rolling; sharing the stanzas trading lead and back up, and leaning over each other’s shoulder for the chorus. When we’re done, we fade out and all we hear for the first moments is silent attention, then the applause breaks over us. We better get quit while we’re ahead, two songs and out. You give John his guitar back while I shout out: Now let’s get back to some kick-ass Rock-n-Roll! as the band launches into their next set.
Everyone’s got something to say to us now, but I just gotta get out. We wave a goodbye to Hugh and he points a stick at us saying, ‘Be good.’ You’ve got a hold of my arm as we work our way out the back, nodding or offering a quick thank you to people who say things to us as we step around them, moving steadily to the walkway. I turn back to you after stepping down the first step, surprising you as I stop.
You were awesome – thanks for coming up to bail me out.
“I couldn’t believe I did it, but you looked like you could use a hand.”
And how do I look now?
You quickly run your palm over the top of my head, where my hair’s all spiky and wet, “Sweaty.”
Not exactly what I was hoping to hear.
“I’m unpredictable; it’s part of the mystery I’m cultivating.”
Give me a chance to work on solving some of it: come have dinner with me.
“Now? It’s after 10 on Thursday.”
I know a great Chinese restaurant that’s open until 2 AM every night, so we’ve got time to get there, eat, talk, and still have time to go back when we get hungry again.
“Don’t you have to get up early tomorrow?”
If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I’ll gladly be tired tomorrow for the chance to pick up a few clues.
“You know, we didn’t get a chance to do that third song either.”
Maybe we’re not ready to share that with anyone else yet – I’ll play it in the car for us…
“You’re starting to get that spiky hair now.”
Yeah, it’s getting hot even here in the shade – maybe we better put the notebook down for now.
“But I want to know how the night turned out – how was the Chinese place?”
We can go back sometime.
“Promise?”
Absolutely. Right now, how about we go check out what 31 flavors are out this week, get a cold drink, and sit in the air conditioning?
“And maybe you’ll tell me more about that third bright spot in your week?”
Well of course, what else could I do?...
You come to me and rouse me with a gentle touch, tickling the hair sticking out of the back of my hat.
“You look tired, how was your week?”
Hey you – how’d you find me here?
“I don’t think it’d be good to look too hard into that: it might break the spell.”
Yeah, you’re right… Generally it was a tough week without much to recommend it. It had two truly bright spots though, three now. The other two were musical in nature.
“Well you can talk to me more about the third bright spot later, but what were the two musical ones?”
First, I got those CD’s in the mail. We’d been talking about them so long that the anticipation had really built, and high expectations can be tricky. They really blew me away – not even high expectations were enough to match their reality. I’ve got Bebo cued up right now in my earphones.
“I hoped you’d like them. I do.”
They made me think of some stuff for you.
“Yeah, what?”
Soon enough, be patient a couple days.
“Okay then, don’t tell me. I know you already know… Anyway, what was the other musical moment?”
Hugh’s band show at that benefit downtown.
“Oh yeah; that was good? I wish I’d gone.”
Yeah? I wished you were there.
“Well, I think we deserve a wish to come true, and even if neither of us do alone, you’d think that both wishing together would count for some extra credit.”We are due, aren’t we? Put your forehead up against mine, and we’ll wish again. Got it? on 3,… 1,…2,… 3,… wish. Done?
“In a sec. MmmHmm.”
Now hand me the pen and sit here next to me. Let me think of something to start with…
I’m hurrying out of the office; it’s already 5:45, and the show’s flier says it starts at 6:00. I’m barely keeping a hold on my bag, which in turn is barely keeping in the paperwork I jammed into it on the way out. My balled up shirt, t-shirt, and tie are under me other arm (I wanted to at least put on a fresh shirt… “Looks nice”). As I turn into the back elevator lobby you’re hurrying the other way, and I have to jump to keep from running you over (“How do you know you wouldn’t have been the one run over?” Well, I guess now we’ll never know.”) and I lose the handle on everything – at least my glasses stayed on, barely.
Well this is obviously a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you.
“Well (“as you say”), it turns out I’m in town of a sudden and was trying to catch you before you left for that show. Here, here’s your papers and phone.”
You should’ve just called.
“My phone’s died.”
Right, I get it, we’ve got to hurry to get there, do you mind if I drive?
“Can you be safe?”
We’ll see. Grab that water, would you?
“A water and a cereal bar? What’s this?”
Dinner?
“Nice, that seems very nutritious.”
Well, I better have something: I didn’t get to my lunch today and we don’t have time to stop for dinner on the way, and it’s an open bar – I think tonight that might mean all the cola I can drink…
“What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?”
Yikes, don’t remind me right now. Yeah, that’s the other thing, gotta be up early.
“You still riding your bike in?”
Generally yes, but tomorrow no. Not because of the show, but because I want to replace the pulleys.
“Oh yeah, of course, the pulleys.”
Okay, sorry, not tomorrow ‘cause I need to do some work on it first.
“It’s just easier to follow when you speak English.”
Wait, give me a second before you get in to get rid of the CD’s out of the seat and get rid of the garbage bag, plus I gotta toss my work stuff in the trunk.
“You just put your ‘dinner’ in the trunk.”
Thanks, still a little off balance with you showing up.
“Well, if I’m spoiling your plans…”
I’m sure you shouldn’t be like that. Come on, jump in. You can pick the CD after you buckle up. It’s not that hot or humid this evening, would you rather drive with the windows down or use the A/C?
“Whatever you like better is fine.”
Neither’s gonna do anything to my hair is why I ask…
“I’ve got a brush, I’ll be fine.”
The lights favor us, and it feels good to feel the air move after being caught indoors all day, and there’s a good driving song on (you mind if I play that one again? “I picked it, why would I mind?” You know, this one might work its way onto that set list. “It’s getting to be a long list.” Well, push something into an encore list then.), and it’s looking good for not being too late. Then, just as I’m finishing my ‘dinner’, at the end of Whitehurst: K street gridlock (“Should’ve taken the E street expressway.” Oh sure, now you say something. Why didn’t you tell me then? “Thought you knew what you were doing.” Hello? ‘off balance’, remember? “I think you might be exaggerating a bit.”) (Hey! You don’t get to close the parentheses after a remark like that: give yourself a little more credit won’t you? “Maybe I’ll try to listen a bit more.”).
Now we’re going to be late for sure, if we make it at all. Hey! Look out! Didn’t know we were allowed to turn left from the right lane in the District. What’s this guy doing parking? He could at least get into the service lanes: look, he’s just going in to Starbucks. The buses don’t make it any easier either, or the jaywalkers. Okay, definitely too warm now, would you roll your window up and I’ll put on the A/C – let me know if it gets too cold for you. Now we’re moving a bit; I’m going to go down 13th now, should get there at about 6:20, so even if they start right on time we won’t miss much. Doesn’t look like we can park on the street ‘til 6:30 anyway. Let’s just circle and enjoy the CD then. This one’s pretty mellow; the rest of the evening won’t be.
“That reminds me, what is the musical selection going to be like tonight?”
Well, all of it would get filed under ‘play it loud’: Pixies, White Stripes, AC/DC, Modern English, Cars, Wheezer – all party music 80’s and onward. We could find a parking spot now. How about that one?
“No, don’t settle too early, I’ll find a better one.”
That’s pretty confident. There’s another.
“No, trust me, I feel things are in my favor tonight.”Alright, you’re the fortune teller.
“There it is – up there on the right.”
Wow, right across the street. What else does the future hold tonight?
“I don’t want to get too far ahead and spoil it for you.”
Hmm. Good answer.
“And look at you all parallel parking.”Well, sometimes when you’re on…
“Mind your language, there’s a lady present.”
Jenny’s a lady, why doesn’t she have to watch her language?
“Something about a woman’s prerogative.”
Ah. You ready to go in?
“Not sure, who are you going to know here?”
Hugh and Pete primarily, the rest of the band I recognize but don’t know, then there’s usually someone else at the show that I know but didn’t expect. Look, I tell you what, if it’s bad-weird we’ll leave and go get dinner somewhere – deal?
“You’re on.”
Cross the street to the Homer building (Doh!) and cut through the Metro Center exit to get to the front door (didn’t know you could find Caribou coffee here in town) which is still unlocked. The doorman can tell we’re not here for work and he just winks and nods to the sign on the easel pointing us toward the North Elevators. The lobby is wide open with severe geometric Wright-like marble architecture. In the elevator lobby the next sign points to the right-most elevator and tells us to take it to ‘PHR’. I push the ‘up’ button on the wall that the sign seems to point to, but the building engineer waiting for the service elevator steps over and points inside the doorframe to a different button: /“There’s the one you want buddy”/
Thanks.
/“S’nothin’, have a good evening”/
You too, Chief. I wonder if there’s a secret password or handshake also?
“‘PHR’? I wonder what that stands for.”
Maybe it doesn’t stand for anything, maybe you just pronounce it: fîr.
“Maybe it’s Party Holding Region.”Uh, well,…
“It’s a better idea than ‘fîr’”
True, but not as good as PentHouse Roof.
“Why didn’t you just say that first?”
Where’s the fun in that? Finally, here’s the elevator. It’s relatively unassuming for a penthouse elevator – the fan and plywood ceiling are exposed above and the walls are draped with a beat up moving pad. Rises fine though, and soon the back door opens up to a little stairwell with restroom doors on either side. The next sign points us up the stairs and out the door onto the roof walkway along the north side of the building. The walkway turns the corner to the west side of the building, and now we can see the roof patio. The band’s stuff is set up at the southwest corner, and the bar at the north side. Pause for a minute to pay to achieve ‘supporter’ status (no, really, put your money away, I got it – you can buy the drinks. “I thought you said it was open bar.” Exactly.). I don’t see any of the band – no wait, there’s Hugh talking to that woman. It’s okay, he’s waving us over. He introduces us to Sarah, and when I introduce you he says how he’s glad to see you made it and how he’s wanted to meet you (he’s a good brother, isn’t he?). He also says he wants to show me something about his drum kit. He needs to let me know out of earshot that this is not the Sara he’s giving my State Theatre ticket to, it’s a different Sarah so I should not bring it up since it may cause unrest. I don’t tell him that I had forgotten about that.
When Hugh and I get back, Buffy and Pete have joined you (Buffy – yes her real name – does vocals and tambourine, Pete plays lead guitar and is a good friend of Hugh’s). Buffy knows me, but I’ve never met her so it’s a little strange. She tells me how it’s cool I’m able to come out and see Hugh’s band. Hugh’s band? Geez Buffy, Pete’s standing right there. Well sure, she says, but I’m Hugh’s brother. That’s when it dawns on me that the only reason she knows me is that Hugh’s said something. Or maybe I need to be on my guard,… maybe a bit of explanation is in order, let’s excuse ourselves to get a drink, eh?
“So? What?”
Wait a minute – Hey Colin – okay so the band keeps in flux over John needing to be able to sing better. Maybe three weeks ago Hugh and Pete were talking like they were done with it. That’s about how it would split: Hugh and Pete on one side, John and Buffy on another (they might be a couple, I can’t quite tell), and Colin I’m not sure about. John’s definitely the best showman: he’s out front and is responsible for most of the style details of the band, and when he relaxes into a song he can sound good. Pete is probably the best musician (Colin’s good too, they just don’t ask much out of the bass line). Anyway, this spring, Hugh and Guy (my other brother – plays bass) started kicking around an idea of doing some music together whenever Guy’s around, and we started passing music around to get an idea of what we’d like to do. I think that might’ve planted a seed in Hugh’s head that he had an alternative to playing behind John and Buffy. I realized I was just being selfish, trying to do things the easy way: if I really want to do that I should get the people together myself instead, so I dropped the idea (well, I still like the idea, I just don’t talk to Hugh about it). There’s still tension around it though, and a suspicion. The band practices in my mom’s attic (yeah, my mom is cool), so I see everybody from time to time (actually, I’ve never met Buffy before), but only Hugh and Pete actually speak to me beyond pleasantries. John actually looks through me mostly (which is tough: I’m fairly dense) – or maybe I just project that on him. It’s hard to say, since we don’t really talk (“So, you could decide to talk to him.” Funny you should mention that – Hugh and Pete and I went to a birthday party in Adams Morgan the next Saturday and the rest of the band showed up, and we hung around at the Blue Room for hours and got to know/trust/relax around each other – but for the purposes of this story you should forget about that.).
Somebody’s on a mic making remarks now about how great it is we could all be here to support the next Miss USA. And here’s Natalie – who’s certainly attractive, but will probably not be the next Miss USA. In fact, she ought not spend too much time around you this evening: it’d hurt her confidence I think. This guy could’ve worked on his remarks a bit. First of all, it’s always off-putting when Mr. White Suburbia (Is there a contest for that? What would the talent portion consist of?) tries to be ghetto. He keeps saying, ‘Let’s put it up’ for this person or that, when I’m sure he means ‘give it up’ (Shoot, even Mr. Middle Aged White Guy – I was asked to enter, but couldn’t raise the money – knows that), and when he tells Natalie, ‘Girl. You got it going on,’ it’s just painful. Then when you think he’s done all the damage he can do, he introduces ‘E.B.’, the ‘Special Guest’, by making a point of saying he doesn’t listen to his radio show and so he doesn’t have any idea who ‘E.B.’ is, but that he’s sure that he’s welcome anyway. Nice.
Finally, the band looks like they’re going to start. I’m going to sit for now, would you sit with me? It was kind of a long day and I just need to chill for a while, listen, and sip soda and check out the scene. I’ll start with the atmospherics: the sun is accelerating its descent, giving dramatic lighting to the monuments and throwing the architecture of the nearby buildings into sharper relief. The sky seems brighter and deeper behind the shadowed buildings. A light breeze is shifting around the light clouds and jet contrails, darker low clouds give a grey underline for the bright white wisps above. A purple line of clouds on the horizon looks menacing, but nothing’s in the forecast. The bright blue open intervals seem very deep with a hazy volume.
The people are also very dramatic – is it because we’re in downtown D.C. or because we’re at a benefit? That dress is very extreme between the bright background and sharp pattern. That hat really grabs your eye with all the stripes. There are a lot of severe color combinations. That man in the striped shirt and patterned bowtie is trying to make some kind of statement. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many scarves in July before.
“How about that woman in the floral print – she’s really moving. Or those glasses she’s wearing. And why are any of the men wearing jackets?”
Wait, turn around for a second: 3 people on their cell phones and 2 with their crackberry’s…
/“Excuse me, but you look really familiar to me, and I’ve been trying to decide if it’s that we went to school together”/
This dude just came right up between our chairs and squatted down between us, facing you, in the middle of our conversation. You lean forward to look around him and catch my eye.
Yeah, I was thinking you looked familiar too. Was that you I was just speaking to?
“Come to think of it, I recognize you Uly, but not him.”
Me neither, but wait, let me see your profile man,… nope, I got nothing.
/“Look, I just wanted to talk to the lady”/
Can’t blame you, oh wait, don’t go away mad,… it was just getting fun…
“That was weird.”
Were we too rough? I feel a little guilty.
“If it’ll make you fell better about it, I’ll leave you here and go back to talk to him.”You’re very devilish you know.
“I don’t know what you could be referring to.”
The band’s dedicating this song to the ladies (for about the third time already), proclaiming it the greatest song of the eighties (Any guesses? Yeah, I had a few too, all wrong): Modern English, I’ll Stop the World (and Melt with You). That gives me an idea, and I peck out a text message to Hugh: [I think I just heard Sarah say she’d stop the world and melt with Hugh].
“You’re a bit devilish yourself.”
Hey, it’s what big brothers do. Plus look – she’s barely aware of her date as she watches the band.
The next song’s a dedication too. John says, /“This one goes out to…”/, and the crowd guesses, /“the ladies?”/. Nope, fooled us, this one’s for Natalie, Psychadelic Furs, Pretty in Pink (which is ironic, ‘cause I understand the song to be about a woman who’s attractive but sad and desperate – nice dedication, eh?). Next up, AC/DC’s Rocked Me (All Night Long), which prompts another text to Hugh: [Now I could swear I heard Sarah say, Hugh rocked me all night long].
“That might’ve gone too far.”
I guarantee he’ll laugh out loud. And look, she and her date are both dancing, and they’re within 3 feet of each other, but I wouldn’t call that ‘together’ would you?
“No, you’re right about that.”
We’ve reached the end of the first set, and I signal Hugh to check his phone. After a few seconds, he bursts out laughing. A few more seconds and he’s laughing louder, and his ears turn red, and he points at me and mouths, “I’m gonna get you, bro’”. I’m going back to the bar – think I’ll have this evening’s beer this time – you want me to get you anything?
“Just get me whatever you’re getting; I’m going to go powder my nose.”
Okay, I’ll meet you back here.
At the bar, I realize what I’ve set myself up for: I don’t have any idea what you’d get, so I actually do have to order what I’d get instead of being able to get two of what you’d get (Yeah, what would you get ordinarily? “Tell you what, here’s a way to find out: take me out somewhere again and watch.” Note to self: pay more attention to this one, she likes to cultivate a sense of mystery. “Is it not captivating?” That might be a part of it.)
I get back to the table and sit down, placing your drink in front of your chair. A quick scan around doesn’t reveal anybody I’d rather be talking with, so I let my eyes close lightly and try to rub some of the week’s tension out of my eyelids (“Was it that bad of a week?” This week let me know early that it meant to take me down. “But it hasn’t…” I’ve been sure to conquer this week in every possible fashion so as not to give it any hope of beating me, just Friday left to go.).
/“Excuse me, are you here for the hostess, or are you here with the band?”/
I open my eyes – yes she’s talking to me, standing leaning in from in front of the table, holding something with a lemon twist in it.
I’m here with the band.
/“Do you work with one of them?”/
No, I’m related to one of them.
/“Which one?”/
My brother, guess which.
/“Colin?”/
No, geez no (I do not think I look like Colin), Hugh, the drummer.
/“Oh yeah, of course – say, would you want to come sit with me and my friend? She and I both work with John.”/
I think that’s likely to seem awkward when my friend returns from the restroom.
/“Oh, okay, maybe we’ll talk later.”/
Enjoy the rest of the show.
“What was that about?”
Something along the lines of: did I go to school around here – we must be looking especially fun to be with tonight.
“Happens all the time to me…”
Not me, must be something you do to me.
“I see it, it works well for you.”
The band kicks into its second set, saving us from a conversation we wanted to save for later (“How much later?” I’m not sure, probably not even this story. “Don’t wait forever.” Yeah, like Neil sings, ‘I could go anytime’, I know; still there’s a time for the chorus and a time for the bridge.). John’s got an a satin shirt with no buttons, and he’s dedicating another song to the ladies. Later, there’s another dedication to Natalie. This time it’s J. Geils Band: Centerfold, which is quite tasteless as a dedication I think. Hell, the girl’s parents are here. The crowd’s loosened up more, and the dance space is starting to fill up. I’m sorry, I know you want to, but I don’t tonight – maybe catch up with me this weekend in Adams Morgan.
In the second break, Buffy and John are signaling me up front like they’ve got a secret. I look for Hugh, but he’s nowhere to be spotted. John comes over to me and says, /“Come up front, we need your help with something.”/ This doesn’t seem right, since John’s never said three words to me before, but I go up…
When I get up there, the lights come back up and Hugh’s in the back with a wireless mic: ‘Tonight, we’ve got a special introduction for you, my brother’s agreed to sing us a song!’ Yeah, funny Hugh, now I’ll go back and sit and try to sink into my chair… but the crowd’s interested, and Buffy and Pete won’t let me leave the front (Why? Why did I send those text messages?). I’m going to bomb this one, I need help – you’re not where you were sitting, so I guess it’s just me. No. You’ve come up to the front of the stage – clapping and urging me on. Come on, this is our open mic, do this with me.
You borrow John’s guitar and we set up a mic stand in the center. Turn to me a moment, we need a plan. The crowd’s pushed in up front, and they’re chanting and clapping rhythmically, building in volume and frequency. Forehead to forehead now; we should play somethings from the stuff we just shared. I tell you my favorite from what you sent me (“Good, I’ve been playing that one already”), and you choose the obvious one from what I put together for you. Simultaneously, we both suggest the same third song – that’s more than enough (More than that, and we’ll have to get paid.). We turn back to the mic and the band’s just grinning at us: ‘gotcha’ it says. The crowd up front waits, their chanting broken open, also grinning at the spectacle. Back at the bar is a constant drone of conversation oblivious to what’s going on at the stage. We get the opening timing mixed up, but keep going until I confuse the words, getting ahead. We stop to start over, and there is a smattering of giggles. I use the mic to ask for a beer – Natalie’s sister was bringing one up from the bar for somebody, but re-routes it up to me. I take a drink, bring it down to look at the bottle, wipe it on my flop-sweaty forehead, and take another swig. You wave it over to you and do the same. You ready? You shake your head ‘no’ and shrug your shoulders. Yeah, me neither, but it’s time… and the opening comes together right, and I remember the words in the right order, and we’re passing off the vocals very naturally, and we’re nailing it. It’s just flowing, and it feels right, and it’s just you and me. Even the self-important talking at the bar stops to listen. Pete picks up and lays in a few hooks, and Hugh sits to drop a quiet rhythm line in with one stick. We trade verses and come together for the chorus, and soon everyone’s coming in on the chorus. Our second choice is more personal, so I wave off Hugh and you do the same to Pete. A couple stools get pulled up for us and we keep the feeling rolling; sharing the stanzas trading lead and back up, and leaning over each other’s shoulder for the chorus. When we’re done, we fade out and all we hear for the first moments is silent attention, then the applause breaks over us. We better get quit while we’re ahead, two songs and out. You give John his guitar back while I shout out: Now let’s get back to some kick-ass Rock-n-Roll! as the band launches into their next set.
Everyone’s got something to say to us now, but I just gotta get out. We wave a goodbye to Hugh and he points a stick at us saying, ‘Be good.’ You’ve got a hold of my arm as we work our way out the back, nodding or offering a quick thank you to people who say things to us as we step around them, moving steadily to the walkway. I turn back to you after stepping down the first step, surprising you as I stop.
You were awesome – thanks for coming up to bail me out.
“I couldn’t believe I did it, but you looked like you could use a hand.”
And how do I look now?
You quickly run your palm over the top of my head, where my hair’s all spiky and wet, “Sweaty.”
Not exactly what I was hoping to hear.
“I’m unpredictable; it’s part of the mystery I’m cultivating.”
Give me a chance to work on solving some of it: come have dinner with me.
“Now? It’s after 10 on Thursday.”
I know a great Chinese restaurant that’s open until 2 AM every night, so we’ve got time to get there, eat, talk, and still have time to go back when we get hungry again.
“Don’t you have to get up early tomorrow?”
If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I’ll gladly be tired tomorrow for the chance to pick up a few clues.
“You know, we didn’t get a chance to do that third song either.”
Maybe we’re not ready to share that with anyone else yet – I’ll play it in the car for us…
“You’re starting to get that spiky hair now.”
Yeah, it’s getting hot even here in the shade – maybe we better put the notebook down for now.
“But I want to know how the night turned out – how was the Chinese place?”
We can go back sometime.
“Promise?”
Absolutely. Right now, how about we go check out what 31 flavors are out this week, get a cold drink, and sit in the air conditioning?
“And maybe you’ll tell me more about that third bright spot in your week?”
Well of course, what else could I do?...
