More on that later.
Mark Oliver Everett, known as E, and his stage partner The Chet, who are collectively The Eels (you may know them by My Beloved Monster from the Shrek movies), gave a concert Monday night at the Pantages theatre that was... an event, an experience. I can't think of a more descriptive term, because there's far too much disparate material to describe with one word.
Such a lovely theatre, with a nearly perfectly-tuned sound system. Sure wish it had been a fuller house. :(
But those who were there were supportive and happy. :) I had a seat in the fourth row of the balcony, but soon had my choice of any other.
The Chet is versatile as the dickens, playing everything from the saw to the glockenspiel, as well as organ, piano, drums, guitar, pedal steel. And he sings. He seemed like a better musician than E, who stuck to (only!) piano, guitar, drums and vocal.
I say a better musician not only because of the breadth of instruments he played, but the way he played them. On one number, he and E switched positions in the middle of a drum solo, and The Chet took over piano & vocal. You could hardly tell the difference on the piano, but when they switched back, you *could* tell the difference on the drums. The Chet rules.
Very, very organized show. The transitions between songs were the smoothest I've ever seen in a live show, with a roadie switching guitars for E after every number, and The Chet moving to a new instrument for the next song before E had even finished his last chord on the old one. Amazing.
And variety! They showed a great autobiographical video to open the show, and interspersed funny bits about reading fake fan mail and mocking reviews of their shows amongst the music. Three hours long, very entertaining and worth the ticket price - every dime. :)
But the real fun was afterwards on the street! Silly me, with the warm weekend I had switched out my winter jacket for my spring/fall one, and.. was out in 36 degree weather for the next hour and a half. :(
A few people went back by the tour bus, each thinking we might get a chance to say hi to E or The Chet before they headed out to Boulder, Seattle and Portland; just talk about the show a bit, you know. Some had CDs to get signed, etc.
So we're hanging out. And we're hanging out. And we're hanging out. Roadies come and go, and we start to get to know them, as well as each other. There was Julie the girl at the merchandise booth, Mark the sound man, Eddie the bodyguard (or whatever he did besides schlepping food to the bus - he just looked like a bodyguard.)
After a half-hour of swapping Eels stories and discussing favorite music, we spent the next half-hour starting to bond as a group - we told "life stories", about where we've lived, went to school, etc. After an hour of shivering, then people start to go a little deeper with one another, in pairs. What moves you about this song, or what memory do you have attached to this one?
One twenty-something guy, Steve - seemed like a kindred spirit. :) He told me about the Eels song he wants at his funeral (Last Stop: This Town) and why; about the crazy, silly, romantic things he does for girls he's loved.. whether they return his romancing or not. I liked him. I told him a few heartfelt stories in return. He's my new bud. ;)
So eventually, when the show had been over for 90 minutes, the tour bus and the lead SUV pulled out without anyone in our intrepid little band having talked to E or The Chet. :( The group began to say goodbye and drift off. Steve and I walked a bit, exploring the nearby clubs before we knocked off for the night, talking some more, hoping maybe that E was never on the tour bus. ;)
But, successful quest or not, the memory of the evening will linger for me, and Steve, and the whole group of us - for different reasons.
One of the things Steve said resonated with me. In talking about his funeral song, he said that to him things like what we were doing tonight - shivering in the cold for an hour and a half, bonding with perfect strangers thrown together by a common goal - were real memory-makers. They turn a concert you might otherwise forget into an evening you won't.
And, he said, life is like that. Memories are one way of "paying it forward" - to yourself, and to those you make them with. If you put some effort, some care, some love and kindness, into what you do today.. you are investing in tomorrow. Because you'll remember, and so will they.
Some memories are cumulative. Little things, experienced often, over time, build up; they grow into a body of memory. Like.. day to day experiences in grade school, or in the house where you grew up.. you may not remember lots of details but you remember a feeling, a sense of how it was.
That sense of the past, those feelings you associate with a place or with certain people, they are the result of an accumulation of little interactions and encounters. Were you loved? Was it happy there? Was it bright and cheerful? Was it gloomy? Was it full of conflict? Were you picked on?
And so, even in our littlest encounters with people.. shouldn't we season them with love, care, kindness? So that when we add to the accumulating memory they are building, we do it in a positive way?
Some experiences make big and vivid memories. You know which ones: that ambitious summer family vacation. The crazy impromptu road trip. The weekend in March you fought and cried. The weekend in April you reconciled. The first date, the last goodbye. The wedding, the funeral. All those things.
And when one of those things is coming up, you often already know that it will be impactful, a memory-maker. How do you want it to be? Some thought invested, some care, some love and kindness, some craziness maybe ;) a surprise.. can make it better, and make it last. You can invest in the memory now, and it will come back around to you again, as time rolls on.
Because then, an image, a song, a scent, a name, a place... will bring it all back. For you.. For them.. For good.
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