[ Monday, May 12, 2003 ]
The Monday after a long, long weekend.
Fri. night we decided to go out of town. Top down, music up, we hit the parkway. Billie w/ red sunglasses in the back. Sam with a smile up front. My hair everywhere in the driver's seat. Plans to pick up Lisa in Winchester floating around in our heads. After 30 some minutes of driving, wind picked up, the sky turned the black. Just as we put the top up, the mother of all raindrops crashed into the windshield.
Then we ran into the mother of all storms.
I usually don't panic during storms but this is tornado season.
Suddenly there were limbs, leaves, everywhere. I couldn't see 10 feet in front of me & I had slowed down to about 30 on the parkway. We pulled under a bridge. Just as we did, the hail started. Big white gumball drops bouncing all around us. Inside the car we're contemplating excape routes...where we're gonna head the funnel rips through.
There's a crawl space underneath the bridge. I tell Sam & Billie to head for that crawlspace. Sam doesn't think we can make it up the slope. I tell her if a funnel heads toward us, we'll shimmy it. We'll matrix our asses up that slope. Sam gets nervous. Her belly rolls. Sprinkled inside this fear & planning are random bursts of laughter. We can't help it. We're scared. Embarassed that we're scared.
Sam turns the radio on to listen to the weather. To see if there are tornado warnings for the area we're in. No weather. On any station. Sam turns it to a country station. I panic. I tell her to turn it. If this is the last song we're gonna listen to before we die...I don't want to have Brooks & Dunn in my head while I'm strolling to the Pearly Gate.
We got to listen to other songs.
Picked up Lisa on the parkway. (After doing a U-y since she refused to cross the median while the hail beat down. LOL)
Get to our destination. Get dolled up. Head out to Chances, a little lounge in the middle of nowhere. 15 cars parked in the lot. Not a happening spot, we presume. Anyway, we chat up the bouncer. The owner comes out to greet us. Big, Rick James looking guy & from that point on, everytime I step, I'm moving to the beat of Supah Freak inside my head. Anyway, I felt like a VIP walking in. I didn't feel like it when we walked out. But we were hell bent on shaking our asses & nobody was dancing or even ticking their shoulders.
Fast-forward to Cooter Browns. The band was incredible. When it comes to stage presence....audience interaction...it was the best band I've seen in a while. The lead singer looked familiar. I realize we used to hang out with him back in the day. 1996-97. He was the guy known for his tumor which was definitely NOT A TUMOR. Around the table we hash this idea out. Sam's convinced it just isn't the same guy. I'm convinced it definitely is. Especially when he starts dancing on stage, turning around twitching his ass, then jumps up on a table & sings. I remember one night dancing in his house. Twelve--fifteen people, including me, Bill, Sam, Andrea...backing that ass up in his living room.
So Billie & I danced, took in the atmosphere, acted like nuts out on the dancefloor because it is so fun to do a Saturday Night Fever while slightly tipsy. Especially when you don't know many people in the room & don't have to see most of them again.
And then this man onstage starts playing the sax. My head absolutely turned. And it wasn't just the arrival of the instrument..it was the passion with which he played & performed. There is an extreme difference in someone who playes music, who feels it & someone who is music. This man was absolute music. I wanted to tell him that inside the bar, during the break. But there was a crowd around him & I didn't want to repeat the Steve Azar deal, when I should have kept my drunk mouth shut.
Anyway, last song of the night. Incredible to say the least...So we head out. In the parking lot, Lisa (our dd for the evening) & Sam put the top down. We hear something break. I remember that we've stashed some of our stuff in the back cubbyhole to make more room. We put the top up. Pieces of my broken windshield start falling. I crawl in the back, have my moment & cry just a little bit. Sam & I sit in the back on the trip to the Waffle House. Heads hanging out the back of the non-existant window.
Outside the Waffle House we survey the damage. Realize that when we're 70, wearing our moo-moo's & depends, we'll be able to look back and just crack up, recalling the night we shattered some glass. Of course, by then the story will have changed. It wasn't an accident. "There were five of 'em. Jumped us. Blondes. All at once. They were coming from every direction. Charging out of the shadows. We didn't know what to do. Billie started doing that tai-bo shit & I picked up the pop bottle. You couldn't see nothing but blonde hair, glass & blood." Lol. Yeah, the story will definitely get better over time.
But, one good thing from the evening aside from experiencing life & all the crazy things it throws at you, while Sam & I were checking out the glass, the sax player came across the parking lot. Darren Dixon, who heads up The Dixon Line & performs acoustic duos with other musicians. So I got to tell him that he just made my night & how beautifully he played. That tickled me. Because really, you can clap your hands, yell louder than anyone in the building at the end of the song. But sometimes, that quiet appreciation & head nod go unnoticed. Someone can play, onstage, for hours, move you to a place that you haven't been in years, make you regress back to the three year old girl who jumped up & down on the porch yelling MUSIC, MUSIC, MUSIC while your uncle played the guitar. And won't know any of this...unless you get the opportunity to tell it. To say...you were absolute beauty on that stage.
So, I'm going to take in some future shows, do my best to spread the word.
I have about four pages left of this story.
I won't type it out. Just believe that it's hilarious. At 3 in the morning we bought duct tape & plastic from Wal-Mart, spent a good portion of time trying to tape up the window. Left out the next morning, ran into more storms. Billie & I held the plastic down on the outside (drenched from head to toe) while Lisa & Sam sat on the inside, helping hold it together & mopping up water with a sheet.
We finally made it back. A tarp is now on ole Licorice. & I can't recall any of these images...without smiling. Because these are things that make life rich & full. And connect four girls whose lives are woven together so intricately.
Much love to all.
~ Rebecca 11:20 AM [+]
