rock and roll musings by Tim Byrnes

When Worlds Collude: Uh Oh, Love Comes to Town

     It's Saturday morning, my friend and compatriot Carl Simmons left yesterday afternoon after a 2-day combination retreat, nostalgiafest and rock & roll basement jam. I'm sure it's too early for me to record my impressions of the visit but one has to start processing sometime, doesn't one?

     Back in the day (1979-1985 I think) Carl and I were in a band called Tension Envelopes, a hard drinking bunch of rowdies, at least one of whom (me) was an alcoholic speedfreak.

     Carl moved on, in his course, to find a workable understanding, and as mentioned a genuine love, of god while I continued to poison myself w/crazy women, drugs and booze for the next 9 years, getting sober in 1993.

     If he had shown up 2 months ago I would have been on top of the world,but electricity and my decisions being what they are he landed right after my self imposed downsized job and, of course, the fire.

     Here at prb or Burning Light w/no visuals to tip one off, one might assume I'm a witty, urbane and confident soul on the prairie. But in person it's hard to hide the shaken old man drowning in minimum wage, surrounded by drunks in a frontier ghetto.

     Simmons either didn't see that, didn't care or both and for that I am grateful. At 1st we sat in my apartment talking for a few hours. I confessed my embarrassment at Carl seeing me in this state, amidst the rest of my self centered babbling and the requisite 'What ever happened to........?'s. After a while we walked up to the store where I work to get coffee. No sooner had we sat down when Punkin' (that's what we call her), the clerk on duty, went out for a smoke and I had to grab the register.

     I'm glad I did because as the customers came in, I'd joke w/them, get their stuff if they couldn't find it, congratulate them on lottery winnings and basically interact w/friends, did my job well and genuinely enjoyed it.

     Just like I do every day.

     But w/Simmons there to see it and comment on it ("I don't know what yr talking about, I'm getting a George Bailey vibe".) made me see a little more clearly that my problems aren't because of the life I live, but because of the life I think I live.

     Imagine that.

     Anyhow, after that little bit of soulfood we wnt out for actual food @ a place in the next town run by my old boss George. Once again it was like Cheers where everybvody knew my name and was glad to see me. Apparently I'm not the pathetic wretch I like to paint myself. And BOY HOWDY!! Can that Simmons eat!! Like sitting across from Fred Flinstone! Poor guy had to sit there while I babbled and took way too long to eat. Sorry, Carl.

     Then back to my place where we talked about nothing and everything for a few hours. Next morning we had coffee and drove 30 miles eastward to La Junta where my friends and barband Flashback play.. This day, for a while, we had 2 bass players.

     It was amazing, after not playing bass in a band situation for, like, 10 years Simmons slid into out 'Television-on-acid' version of 'Born On the Bayou' like he's been with us all along.

     Idiot me screwed up the recording of our 2nd 'set' (thanks again for the cool recorder, Carl!) so most of the reunion was lost to the agaes but Carl, Dan, Rob, Kenny and I know that, among other things, we all played a great version of the Tension Envelopes 'classic' 'Slamming Door Repeats'. When Carl walked up to my mic to sing background vocals I almost cried. The memories evoked were sweet, the sense of community real and I'll be damned if, even these 25 years later, it's still a good song, still worth singing.

     Just like life.

(More, I'm sure on this later. Oh and Jim, we did talk about you some and agree that yr a bully.)    

Posted by: timbyrnes at 00:26 | link | comments (1)
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