JOY AND LOVE

Many of these stories that I’m telling are emotional and deal with a lot of painful things, but especially after what’s happened this past week, I wanted to share a two stories that are filled with pure joy.  

All four of the boys have talked about how when they walk on stage the hair on the back of their necks stand on end.  I know its not just them, because its happened to me at their concerts.  I can’t be the only one-I’m sure I’m not.  My first U2 concert in person was when I was 16 years old.  It was PopMart Philly, at Franklin Field on June 8, 1997.  I had one of the farthest seats from the stage that someone could get, but you know what? it didn’t matter.  It was an amazing experience.  The giant screen, the 40 ft. lemon, singing along to karaoke with the Edge and the other 50,000+ people that were there.  But there was one moment that night that stayed with me that had me transfixed.  It was during Pride, and when we were all singing the “whoa oh oh oh” part, the screen was showing Bono.  He stopped, closed his eyes and spread his arms out and at least for me it felt as if all of us there in the audience ceased to be individuals for one moment and became one for just a moment.  You could feel the love radiating from everyone.  It was an amazing experience.

I’d been chasing that moment since, and frankly, I started to believe that I’d experienced it only because it was my first U2 concert.  That’s not saying that the others I went to weren’t fantastic experiences in themselves; they were.  I have great memories of them-especially from the Vertigo tour.  But that moment of awe that I had in ’97 that took my breath away hadn’t happened again, at least not until last year.  

July 22 my friend Dre and I, along with two of her friends, went up to the U2i+e show at MSG (in Madison Square Garden New York City for those that don’t know).  I was already a ball of almost raw emotion to start with because before Dre had bought the tickets I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t be seeing them live again, maybe ever.  I’m not working (I’m on disability until I can get these headaches to go away. I may just throw a freakin’ party when they do. Low budget of course, but still a party.).  I don’t have that much money, and certainly not that I could use to go to a rock show, so the fact that she said she’d buy the ticket for me and that I was going already had me a little sentimental.  For anyone who has seen an iNNOCENCE + eXPERIENCE show you know that it is already one of their best tours to date and is marvelous (or at least was to this fan). I had to sit down half the time, but I was still singing along to every word like everyone else around me, and that leads to that moment.  

It was during One, which wound up being the last song of the show. We just started singing along from the start and we didn’t stop.  There was all this love that was being radiated from the audience and it felt like it was coming right back from the band as well. I had that same kind of feeling like I did 18 years before, and this time I had a knot in my throat.  There were a few times when I almost started crying (I’m almost embarrassed to say) during the show, and that was the time I got the closest.  I don’t know if it has been the same at other shows (I know it was like that at the live Paris show, but that was also a special show in itself), and honestly, I kind of don’t want to know.  Even if the crowd sings along with One at every show though, having been to multiple shows at one tour (Vertigo, the only tour that happened on), you could have the same setlist at two shows and it could still feel different going to both.  

These will always be two moments of pure joy and love that I still carry with me and always will.  

Rest in Peace Prince.

2016 took another musical genius today.  I can say I'm completely gobsmacked.  Rest in Peace Prince.  Heaven just got a bit more funkier.

Rest In Peace Mr. Garvin Evans

My prayers go out to Edge and his family for the passing of his father over the weekend.  May he rest in peace and sing with the angels.

ACROBAT

“Don’t believe what you hear

Don’t believe what you see

If you just close your eyes

You can feel the enemy”

 Can you call a 12 year old a hypocrite?  Are you mature enough at that age to get that concept and everything it entails?  If the answer is yes, then I guess I was one. 

 When I was 8, my family moved from our neighborhood in Philly called Fairmount to this small town about an hour north which shall remain anonymous for a few reasons.  And when I say small, I mean small.  Most of it was a widening in the state road that ran through it.  We moved into one of these new row house developments that were being built that became popular in the 90’s.  I didn’t always deal very well with change.  One reason for this (I was told) was because it was a symptom of my having ADD/ADHD (when I was diagnosed in 1987, the two were separate diagnoses.  I happen to have the non hyperactive type.).  Whatever the reason is, when school started, my being in a new place and being around new people…well…adjusting was difficult, and I acted out a little.  Forget trying to sugar coat it-I acted weird a few times by getting way too upset over silly things.  Needless to say, for bullying, I was an easy target, and the kids I went to school with had long memories.

I didn't really have friends.  I had the idea that if a new kid would come in that maybe I could be friends with them, but then the other kids would tell them how weird I was and what I did, and then I was alone again.  I’d made one friend when I was in elementary school and through her I kind of had friends that were her friends, but that was short lived when she thought I liked the same guy she did and she spread a rumor through the school about me (easy pickings, and geez, how junior high is that?! Which guess where it happened.  Yup, junior high.  Something I swear was invented by the devil, but I digress).  There was that old adage that they would tell children “ignore them and it will go away.”  Maybe they still say it, but they shouldn’t.  So I guess I was trying to take that to an extreme.  I wouldn’t react to the bullies, or at least that’s how I perceived it.  I’d keep my head down and just try to avoid everyone.  I didn’t want to burden my mom with my problems, which I was sure were petty compared to hers, what with raising two daughters on her own and working full time, so I never told her what was going on with me. 

“And I must be an acrobat

To talk like this

And act like that”

I write all of this as an explanation for what I’m going to tell you next.  So the question still remains, was I a hypocrite? I guess that’s up to interpretation.  I always thought that I was just trying to survive (mentally).  

Bono has said that the song Acrobat is about a hypocrite (link here. Starts at 0:16), but to me, it was a lifeline.  It was like he was singing directly to me; like he was saying, “don’t listen to them, listen to the music”.  I would sit on the bus with my headphones on, Achtung Baby in my  tape player player, my eyes closed and when this song would come on, I would make sure all the other sounds around me were drowned out so that the song was all I could hear.  

“And you can dream

So dream out loud

I know that the tide is turning round

So don’t let the bastards grind you down”

I became even more of a dreamer, and that was another type of an escape for me.  To me, it was like the boys (that’s what a at least some of us fans will refer to the band as; I don’t know why, but we do) were saying that it was ok, and sometimes those dreams can come true.  I always tried to be an optimist when I was young. It wasn’t until I grew up that my cynicism took hold (and how).  Maybe I could take my love of Disney that I had my whole life and my ability to draw and become an animator or work for one of develop attractions for them as an imagineer (tried, didn’t happen, another story for another time).   I would doodle all the time in notebooks or on the covers we had to have on our textbooks. And there it was again: don’t listen to the ones that are pushing you down, it doesn’t matter. 

“And you can dream

So dream out loud

And you can find

Your own way out”

Even in their darkest songs, there is always light.  I grabbed onto the light and I didn’t let go

OUT OF CONTROL

“The two biggest things in your life, when you’re born and when you die, you have no control over,” is how the quote from Bono goes, or something close to that at least.  It gets the point across, though.  And that was the whole premise of the song “Out of Control”.  You have no control over being born, and you have no choice about dying either; its going to happen whether you like it or not.  So when you’re standing at the beginning of everything sometimes you’re really optimistic and you think you have everything under control, and sometimes, well, you don’t.  

There’s an old quote that’s attributed to Woody Allen that says: 

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”

The original is actually a Yiddish proverb which is (depending on how you translate it):
“.דער מענטש טראַכט און גאָט לאַכט”

“Man plans and G-d laughs (or Man proposes and G-d disposes.).”

That’s…surprisingly true.  You can convince yourself that things are going to happen a certain way but more than likely it doesn’t work out the way you planned.

I was far too mature during my teenage years, the only bad thing I would really do is forget to do my homework.  I never even had a drink until I was 21 (and no, I’ve never been drunk, but that is another story.).  I was sure I could get a job in the field I wanted (film.  There was a growing film industry in Philadelphia) and I was going to go to a school that looked good for learning that trade.  I thought I was pointing myself in the right direction and I didn’t need to go do stupid stuff like getting drunk at parties that I wasn’t invited to anyway.  I wasn’t popular by a LONG shot, but by that point I was fine as long as I was basically ignored (it was far better than the bullying I had endured for years).  On the weekends I was content to sit at home with my music, see the occasional movie with one of my few friends, or was my tv shows. In college I had a small group of loyal friends and our idea of a good time was getting Chinese take out and watch movies in one of our dorm rooms, or visiting whichever of us was doing extra time in whichever art studio that night/weekend.  The whole time I was convinced that my future was going to be pretty good.

Then I graduated from college and that adage came around, because life turned to me and said, “Hey, guess what, I got other ideas.”

No one wanted to hire me, even outside of the film industry.  I sent out probably over 100 resumes to every company in the Philadelphia Film Bureau book (I think at the time there were about 60 or so), then to any company in the area that was hiring entry level, be it the plethora of insurance, paper pushing, etc companies that are all over the place around where i live.  I tried it for over six months and got nothing except for one meeting where they met with me and afterward they said, “well actually, we don’t really need you.”  Yeah, thanks, I just took over an hour ride for nothing. I should have said that out loud to him before I walked out, but I was always taught to not burn bridges.  I would probably have felt better, though.  

Anyway, I needed to get some kind of job, so I did the retail thing, the food service thing, I worked at an animal hospital (and found out I was allergic to cats), I was a seasonal worker for the government (the IRS…yeah, that was interesting to say the least), moved to Florida and worked in customer service…I have had so many different types of jobs and specific training for them that I have gained a lot of useless information.  

My twenties was when I hit my “Out Of Control” moments.  That’s when that song really hit me.  That moment when your past is leading you and leaving you but you know you aren’t at the end yet.  

I’m halfway through my thirties now, and I’m still trying to figure it out, but it isn’t such a cluster bomb in my head anymore. 

“I fought fate

There’s blood at the garden gate

The Man said Childhood

It’s in his childhood

One day I’ll die

The choice will not be mine

Will it be too late

You can’t fight fate.”

You can’t beat it maybe, but I’m going to try to fight for my life one day at a time.  

I guess that’s perspective.

Who knows.  

Revival

Sometimes its hard for me to put into words what I'm feeling.

U2 and their music has been such a part of my life for so long, over half of my life, that I it has been hard to explain why all of it is important to me and what they've done for me.  So I started this blog to try to explain that.

And it was going the way I had planned it.  I was at a loss for words too many times.  Truth is, I stopped writing in general.  It lasted for a while.  Its only in the last two weeks or so that I've been able to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) again.  I was able to put my heart on my sleeve again.
Hopefully posts will come at once a week.

It's been ten years since Hurricane Katrina.

I don't know how many remember the organization  called Music Rising, that was started to help the Gulf Coast musicians who lost most to all of their homes, instruments, equipment, etc in the aftermath of the storm.  It actually still exists, through Tulane University (Music Rising ).

The story I want to share with you is about how one person's idea and ingenuity did something wonderful:

The Story of For Music Rising

I am so lucky to have met some great people through both U2' fan club and just by being a fan of their music.  I met Ms. Irene through Zootopia, and she was one of the circle of people that also I also conversed with on the now defunct yahoo blog pages.  Irene is a beautiful soul that captures her view of the world through her camera lens.  Being that she lives in Louisiana, she was keenly aware of the need of those around her.

So, when MR announced that they were going to auction off a guitar with their custom logo on it, she came up with a wonderful idea: instead of one person just being the highest bidder and owning it, why don't a bunch of us get together, see how much money we can collect, and bid on it?  And if we win, instead of keeping it, we can give it away to one of the musicians to lost their guitar in Katrina. They called the group For Music Rising.

Everyone she told this to, at least to my knowledge, thought it was a great idea.  If someone couldn't donate any money, they'd at least spread the word about it.  And the money came in.  And you know what happened?  The group of fans bought the guitar.

Irene became in contact with a musician named Alabama Slim , and bestowed the guitar onto him.  I'll let her tell you about that, because her words are far more eloquent than mine:

Irene meets with Alabama Slim; gives him the guitar.

There are so many times when I look at things in this world and I wonder if one person or a few people can really make a difference.  This is one time when it actually did.