I was starting to fidget. We had been sitting in a parking lot of traffic for over an hour and could see no relief on the horizon. Moments earlier, I decided that I wanted to take a trip back to my high school days and smoke a bit of weed while listening to the Dead blaring on our radio.
As I looked around at the cars squeezed onto the freeway and the people maneuvering by us, I could feel the warm buzzing sensation in my belly. I was high… and I really wasn’t sure that I liked it.
“B…”
“Let me guess… you don’t want to go to the show anymore.”
“Well… I do but ahhhm… I’m kind of freaking out a little.”
“Babe, you’re fine.”
“This traffic is going to make me lose my mind. I feel so claustrophobic. And what kind of burner are you?! You are supposed to be good at this. Where is the bottle of water for the horrific dry mouth that I am experiencing? Not to mention, I would love a snack. A granola bar even. Or oooooooh a smoothie!!”
He glanced sideways at me, “Just relax!”
So I did. I found myself peering at people passing by us. All I could do was look in awe at the billboards and skyscrapers. I just wanted to get into the city. I knew once I had some open space I would be fine. I wrung my hands together in my lap and tried my best to ignore the sound of my pounding heart in my chest.
Before I knew it our normal ping-pong game of conversation began. I was stoned and jibbering along. The more I talked the more I enjoyed myself.
“B…”
“Yes, baby.”
“I gained five pounds and lost three of it already. Actually, I got on the scale today after taking a huge dump and lost another pound so it’s actually four pounds.”
“Wow, McGee. That’s… pretty damn disgusting.”
“Is it? Is it disgusting that I can crap out an entire pound of my weight? I find it pretty fucking awesome. I just want to poop all the time.”
“Yuck.”
“Do you think that all married couples talk about the shits they take?”
He replies with a huge chuckle, “Absofuckinglutely.”
“Really? Because sometimes I think we are totally off the mark. Just a completely abnormal couple. I mean… you know all about my bodily functions. I’ve actually had you examine me in places that I would never let a licensed physician examine me.”
“Well, I do have to admit we are a bit abnormal. But in a good way.”
“If there was a checklist of things—yes or no—have you done these things together, we would probably answer yes to about 99% of those things. I mean… is that normal??”
“I think its fucking awesome.”
The traffic slowly opened up to reveal an open road. As we pulled onto West 34th street, I had a clear view of the New Yorker building and the Empire State. I couldn’t help but fall in love with Manhattan all over again. She does it to me every damn time… right in the jugular.
We made it to the show while the opening band was still on the stage. As we waited in line with our terrifically free tickets, I started to do some people watching. People were dressed in faded jeans, earth colored clothing and a plethora of sterling silver jewelry. The air was full of patchouli oil. Fans passing by were asking for an extra ticket, and I couldn’t help but think… maybe I didn’t deserve them and should give them away.
Once inside, I gave into a Corona. It felt like the right thing to do with the whiffs of fresh bud and cigarettes. The funk music that was blaring made me feel like I was in a time warp. This was my old stomping ground.
We made our way into the middle of the floor. We were surrounded by all different ages of people, bopping around to the music in that strange way that jam band fans do. Looking around, I saw a girl that reminded me of myself in high school. The long, curly blonde hair with a faded sweater, a colorful print scarf and bangles up and down her arms. She was swaying to the music with one arm in the air and her eyes closed. This was me then.
I felt Brian standing behind me and I looked up and him and smiled. I felt so out of touch. It felt against the grain. We stayed and danced for about an hour and decided it was time to head home. Me… home by 9:30 on a Tuesday night… after one beer? I guess it is plausible.
When we walked outside, B and I talked about how much things have changed. I remembered spending weekends driving to concerts and weekend festivals. Smoking joints and drinking beer. We'd camp out and making food over a small grill and bunson burner. At night we'd sleep in hotel parking lots only to wake up in the morning and drive numerous hours to do it all over again. They were some of the best times of my life.
One thing that I do remember, is that I was always alone at those shows. No matter who I was dating at the time I always ended up wandering around and being on my own. I don’t know where I got that kind of courage then. It really amazes me how different I have become… how I don’t like to be alone. Even as we stood at the show watching Warren Hayes jam on his guitar I had to feel Brian’s hands on my waist. All I kept thinking was one word. Solid. We are solid.
As I looked around at the cars squeezed onto the freeway and the people maneuvering by us, I could feel the warm buzzing sensation in my belly. I was high… and I really wasn’t sure that I liked it.
“B…”
“Let me guess… you don’t want to go to the show anymore.”
“Well… I do but ahhhm… I’m kind of freaking out a little.”
“Babe, you’re fine.”
“This traffic is going to make me lose my mind. I feel so claustrophobic. And what kind of burner are you?! You are supposed to be good at this. Where is the bottle of water for the horrific dry mouth that I am experiencing? Not to mention, I would love a snack. A granola bar even. Or oooooooh a smoothie!!”
He glanced sideways at me, “Just relax!”
So I did. I found myself peering at people passing by us. All I could do was look in awe at the billboards and skyscrapers. I just wanted to get into the city. I knew once I had some open space I would be fine. I wrung my hands together in my lap and tried my best to ignore the sound of my pounding heart in my chest.
Before I knew it our normal ping-pong game of conversation began. I was stoned and jibbering along. The more I talked the more I enjoyed myself.
“B…”
“Yes, baby.”
“I gained five pounds and lost three of it already. Actually, I got on the scale today after taking a huge dump and lost another pound so it’s actually four pounds.”
“Wow, McGee. That’s… pretty damn disgusting.”
“Is it? Is it disgusting that I can crap out an entire pound of my weight? I find it pretty fucking awesome. I just want to poop all the time.”
“Yuck.”
“Do you think that all married couples talk about the shits they take?”
He replies with a huge chuckle, “Absofuckinglutely.”
“Really? Because sometimes I think we are totally off the mark. Just a completely abnormal couple. I mean… you know all about my bodily functions. I’ve actually had you examine me in places that I would never let a licensed physician examine me.”
“Well, I do have to admit we are a bit abnormal. But in a good way.”
“If there was a checklist of things—yes or no—have you done these things together, we would probably answer yes to about 99% of those things. I mean… is that normal??”
“I think its fucking awesome.”
The traffic slowly opened up to reveal an open road. As we pulled onto West 34th street, I had a clear view of the New Yorker building and the Empire State. I couldn’t help but fall in love with Manhattan all over again. She does it to me every damn time… right in the jugular.
We made it to the show while the opening band was still on the stage. As we waited in line with our terrifically free tickets, I started to do some people watching. People were dressed in faded jeans, earth colored clothing and a plethora of sterling silver jewelry. The air was full of patchouli oil. Fans passing by were asking for an extra ticket, and I couldn’t help but think… maybe I didn’t deserve them and should give them away.
Once inside, I gave into a Corona. It felt like the right thing to do with the whiffs of fresh bud and cigarettes. The funk music that was blaring made me feel like I was in a time warp. This was my old stomping ground.
We made our way into the middle of the floor. We were surrounded by all different ages of people, bopping around to the music in that strange way that jam band fans do. Looking around, I saw a girl that reminded me of myself in high school. The long, curly blonde hair with a faded sweater, a colorful print scarf and bangles up and down her arms. She was swaying to the music with one arm in the air and her eyes closed. This was me then.
I felt Brian standing behind me and I looked up and him and smiled. I felt so out of touch. It felt against the grain. We stayed and danced for about an hour and decided it was time to head home. Me… home by 9:30 on a Tuesday night… after one beer? I guess it is plausible.
When we walked outside, B and I talked about how much things have changed. I remembered spending weekends driving to concerts and weekend festivals. Smoking joints and drinking beer. We'd camp out and making food over a small grill and bunson burner. At night we'd sleep in hotel parking lots only to wake up in the morning and drive numerous hours to do it all over again. They were some of the best times of my life.
One thing that I do remember, is that I was always alone at those shows. No matter who I was dating at the time I always ended up wandering around and being on my own. I don’t know where I got that kind of courage then. It really amazes me how different I have become… how I don’t like to be alone. Even as we stood at the show watching Warren Hayes jam on his guitar I had to feel Brian’s hands on my waist. All I kept thinking was one word. Solid. We are solid.
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