The following is a given memory and it goes like this: My brother Geoff and I were at a bar in Chicago waiting to listen to The Abstract Giants to perform. Back then, what was great about these smaller venues, was we got to witness the making of the band. We got to watch them figure out their voice; their vibe. This is not to say they were bad – it means they were courageous enough to believe in what they had, and share it with an audience knowing that it was in the sharing that the gift would grow and change and blossom.
So we got to watch them riff. We got to listen as the guitarists and the piano players worked the melody. Geoff and I have known these guys since we were all kids. I was in the Junior High band with the drummer, and our teacher made a deal with us: If we played – well – for the entire hour, she’d let him play whatever he wanted, and however loud he wanted to, for the last five minutes. You know that scene in “Footloose” where everyone’s at the burger joint and someone pops in a cassette tape into a boom box and all of a sudden everyone is dancing and also getting along? It was like that except we were pulling apart, and cleaning spit out of our instruments, and the music was better because “Dancing in the Sheets” is a dumb song.
So Geoff and I are sitting there waiting, and here’s the part I’d never remember if it weren’t for Mrs. Roldan, one of the band member’s mom, and also the mother to Celena, who you may have heard about from time to time. She was there and she told my mom that at one point, I leaned over to Geoff, and told him something that apparently made him break out in hysterics, while I remained completely straight faced.
It was a small moment, but a perfect snapshot of who Geoff and I are, how we operate, and how totally fond we are of each other.
I’m grateful for this memory because Geoff and I, we are a pretty perfect pair, but it wasn’t always that way. At our worst, this clash in personalities proved to be maybe not lethal, but painful nonetheless. I knew exactly how to provoke Geoff until he lost his mind and fists would fly. These personalities we all have take time to accept, develop, and enjoy, don’t they? I’m grateful Mrs. Roldan saw it, but I’m more grateful that she told my mom because I am thinking of the two siblings I am doing my best to raise well, but mostly end up screaming on the daily, “WHY DOES MY VOICE HAVE TO REACH THIS LEVEL FOR YOU TO LISTEN TO ME?” and I am thinking that night in the bar there was a mother who came to watch her son offer what he has to the world, but was quite aware of all the other gifts swirling around shakily in the smoke filled bar as the musicians began to play the first notes of a melody they didn’t fully understand, but couldn’t turn away from.
Happy Birthday, Geoffrey T. Looking forward to sitting in a bar and listening to our friends perform again soon. We should totally bring all our kids with us.
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