What Is Love?

“What is love, anyway?
Does anybody
love anybody anyway?

I’ve recently been talking to a few people, two on Facebook and two others on the phone about my feelings on love. What it is, is it worthwhile and is it real? I know I’m quite naïve on the subject, simply out of lack of experience, but I find it surprising how many people are either down on the subject or take the emotion for granted. Well, today’s lesson kids, is all about the power of love and the need to constantly search for it. I believe, not only in love itself, but that the quest for it is essential for us to survive.

I’ve spoken on numerous occasions about my lack of success in the love department. I’m quite reluctant when it comes to pulling the trigger when it comes to any possibilities of it but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish for it to occur every single day. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that no matter what anyone says, everybody else is looking for it too.

It is, as John Lennon stated so eloquently, all you need. The true Holy Grail. Once it’s found, in it’s truest form; it has the power to soothe the most savage of beasts. Now that I’ve thrown out the obligatory clichés, allow me the opportunity to give you a few examples of love in this purest form that I’m talking about.

There is, of course, the obvious. A newborn baby being held by his mother. I know a number of you out there are mothers and I want you to think of that moment. That moment when you first looked into your baby’s eyes. I want you to remember that warmth that started in your chest and spread like wildfire throughout the rest of your body. I want you to remember how your eyes filled with tears, and I want you to remember how you felt like you were experiencing an out of body experience. That kids, is true love.

Along the same lines is the love we’ve all seen of a little girl and her daddy. I have experienced this type on numerous occasions. Two quick examples are of Maegan when she was a baby. The excitement she showed when I would come home from work sent shivers down my spine. I use that memory quite often when I’m down and still feel that tingle throughout my body.

The other is when Amanda, my oldest, told me at her wedding that little girls always look for their fathers’ to marry. She then looked at her new husband, then me, and nodded. I got chills writing about it right now.

There is also the love that I’ve written about recently that I’ve personally experienced right here on this computer. It’s the love of friends. It’s the love I’ve felt since reconnecting with so many people that have shown such a warmth towards me and others that you can’t help but feel it.

Then we have the love between two people that seems so hard to attain. Don’t misunderstand me here. I know there are many out there that are happily married and have been in love for years and years, that’s wonderful and I congratulate you. I wish for you the kind of love that makes you want to wake up each morning. That’s the kind of love that I’m really trying to talk about.


See, I really believe that the kind of love that two people can share can be the most incredible thing known to man. It can give one strength they’ve never thought possible. How would I know? Well, I don’t, but like I said, I do believe this to be true.

I know for a fact that most wish for that kind of love. Just go to any movie theater and see any kind of love story. When it’s over, and I don’t think it matters what sex you are, when the two people that you’ve watch struggle through the whole movie finally get together, you feel it. You feel that warmth. You feel happy for the two of them. You also feel a bit jealous and I think we all know why. We feel like that because they found it. They found what we’ve all been looking for and know is almost unobtainable.

I know I’m gonna catch all kinds of crap from all sorts of people about how naïve I am in feeling the way I do about this but I’m willing to take the heat. I’ve mentioned to a number of people that one of my all time favorite movies is, “Love Actually”. Yeah, I know, chick flick. Be that as it may, I love it. Anyway, at the beginning of the movie is a scene at Heathrow Airport and the voice over is talking about how you can see love in all its dimensions at the arrival gate. Just to show you all how far ahead of my time I am, when I was a kid I started going to airports when feeling like I could use the sight of happiness and love. Still do it to this day.

Try it next time you’re there. Just watch people when they see each other after a trip of some sort. If you look close enough you’ll see it. Not often, but it’s there. You’ll see that one couple that has that spark. You’ll see the look in their eyes and the glee in their hearts and you’ll feel it. And you’ll say, “know what? Kevin was right”. I’m telling ya kids, it’s the Holy Grail and who doesn’t want to drink from that cup?

An Open Letter To My New/Old Friends

“I’ve wondered much further
today than I should,
and I can’t seem to find my way
back to the wood”;

This is going to sound so much stranger than I want it to but I just want to thank you guys. I need to thank you for so much more than you’d ever believe or understand.

I know I’ve written on a few occasions about how cool it has been finding you all and how appreciative I am for getting to know you all again. I really want to try to explain why it means so much to me. Please understand, I’m in no danger of hurting myself or anything like that. I may be crazy but I’m not stupid.

Some of you know me well enough to know that depression has been a companion of mine for as long as one can remember. I’ve been through therapy on numerous occasions and have taken anti depressants at different points in my life. Nothing ever really helped to ease the sad thoughts in my head. It’s something I’ve learned to live with and have sort of come to terms with the whole concept. That being said, I’ve still had to go on with my life.

Until the last few years I’ve pretty much sheltered myself away from anything that could be considered “putting myself out there”. Except for a very few people in my life, I’ve always been afraid of talking to people in more than a business setting where one might discover the “real” me. Whether the “real” me is something to be ashamed of had and still has nothing to do with it. I didn’t, and still on most days, don’t like him.

I started writing this blog in June of 2006. At first it was just something for me to spew out my thoughts on politics, religion and other items that raised my ire. For some reason I started writing about me and who and what I’m about. I turned it into a journal and put stuff on it that people would normally never put out for public perusal. I found a release in writing that I’ve never felt before. I’ve spent the last two and a half years on this blog trying to “find” myself per se’. You know, who and what I’m about. Kind of like peeling the onion that we’ve all heard of in our psych classes. I’d like to think it’s helped but who knows? It is what it is and one must go on.

I woke this morning on my birthday and found so many birthday greetings from you guys on my computer you’d think I was famous. I know I shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it but I can’t help it. I went to lunch with a friend I’ve recently become reacquainted with and then spent the evening having dinner and seeing a show with a group of people that six months ago, most were just a blip in my memory and I on theirs. I had what probably is the most wonderful birthday I’ve ever had and it’s all because of you.

I find myself, again because of you guys, putting myself out there more than I have since school. I’m stretching and growing in ways that I had forgotten were possible and once again, it’s you guys that are responsible for it. I can’t imagine just staying home when I’ve got two days off in a row anymore. It’s easily the last resort now that you’ve all re-entered my life and I can’t thank you enough for it.

At the top of the post are some words from the Kenny Loggins song “House On Pooh Corner”. It’s the song that played first when you came to read this piece. Anyway, that verse says a lot about what I’m talking about. I’ve always been so afraid of wandering too far from home. With all of you, I’ve found it so much easier to find my way back to the wood and each of you could live to be 1,000 years old and still never really understand how much that means to me.

Oh Those Friends Of Mine

Well, here’s another post about the things I’m finding on Facebook. Com. As most of you know the site gives one the opportunity to connect with people, friends, relatives and others you may know or even never have heard of. I looked at my “friends” list and see that I now have 101 friends.

How is that even possible? I’m looking at the list and notice family members first. Both my sister and sister in law, Steve’s wife, are on the list. Steve’s daughter and his two-step sons are there too. There is a first cousin and his wife out in California that have entered my circle and one old friend of my sister’s who has known me since I was around eight or nine years old. She moved to Oak Park with us and graduated from OPHS with my sister.

There are a few friends in Florida, one that has since moved to Pennsylvania, one that I met because she shopped in my store down there, a friend of hers that I met on one of my trips down there since I’ve moved and one that I’ve never met. There’s also a guy that I grew up with in Trenton and a couple others that I knew from Oak Park.

Then there’s a group of folks that I really didn’t hang out with in school but either were friends with my brother David, Steve or just acquaintances from school. There are also a few that live here in the Lansing area that I’ve gotten to know since moving back to the state. There are three women, all sisters, that I met during a very trying time for them and the rest are actually people that I have had interactions with in my youth. Ya know, friends.

I’ve got two “friends” in Australia, one that used to live in Oak Park and was friends with Steve and one that knows me through this blog. I’ve got another that lives in Barcelona. I met and became friends with her in San Diego back in the early 80’s.

I’m looking at this list and it’s pretty remarkable. I think there’s only two or three of these folks that I do not recall having ever met. I didn’t think I knew 100 people let alone had conversations with them on a personal level. The folks on Facebook aren’t the only friends I know either. I’ve got friends that haven’t signed up, folks that I see on a regular basis, people out in California and friends in Florida. It would seem that I’m quite the popular guy. Pretty cool huh?

Happy Anniversary

I should probably be a great deal more depressed than I am right now. Today would have been my 19’Th wedding anniversary. Don’t get me wrong; I most certainly have had a number of different things running around upstairs today, some good, some not so good. This is the third January 19’Th that has passed since Shelly and I split and this one, more than the others, has monopolized my mind all day.

I think Shelly and I kind of knew that the marriage wouldn’t last pretty soon after we got hitched. Nothing horrible happened, I was just very inexperienced in the ways of relationships. I was 29 at the time and Shelly was my first real girlfriend. We dated for around a year and got married in Vegas. Don’t put too much thought into the Vegas thing, we were planning a wedding and realized how much money and hassle it was going to be so we just opted for the easier way. I don’t think either of us regret that.

Shelly had two kids from a previous marriage and we both commented on how easily I adapted to the life change. It didn’t take long before I stopped considering Amanda and Blake stepchildren and called them my own. I know that they both consider me their father and have never made me feel anything less than the real thing. I’ve written before about my walking Amanda down the “aisle” at her wedding. There was never any doubt that that was my job as her Dad.

We had Maegan in August of ’90 and we both really enjoyed that. Shelly had experience with babies and I didn’t but she let me pretty much do whatever I wanted with her. Maegan and I went everywhere together. I even used her as a prop in a speech I had to give at school. It was a speech that had me showing how to do something. I chose to show how to change a diaper. It was pretty cool.

Time passed, our careers went along their ways and life just went on. We really enjoyed each other’s company. We were really great friends. When it came to being a husband however, well, let’s just say I was a great friend. We rarely fought, and when we did I’d usually just let it go and let her have her way per se’. We didn’t really go out much; I was even more uncomfortable then than I am now when it comes to socializing. We did though enjoy each other’s company.

I think we both got real comfortable for a while and before we knew it we had 15 years under our belts and neither of us were very happy with our lots. There was a long period of time there when outsiders thought we were the perfect couple. The kids’ friends always considered us the cool parents and everybody except the two of us thought we’d had the perfect life going on. Well, we didn’t. It happens.

I’m not upset that we were married; I’m not depressed because we got divorced. I miss the friendship we had. We rarely speak anymore. We don’t hate each other. We just have different lives. Shelly was the best friend I ever had and I’ll treasure that for the rest of my life. We tried to stay close after the breakup but it just didn’t work for me and I’m gonna try to put the reason in words.

See, when you’re married or in a relationship for as long as we were you get to know each other remarkably well. You know each other’s quirks, habits and most importantly, at least to me, you know each other’s secrets. Shelly knew me better than anyone ever has. And there, my friends, lays the problem.

It’s a problem because when one gets into a new relationship those secrets, once held so tightly, are now secondary to the new relationship. When something comes up, our relationship would now be used as an example of whatever is going on. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s probably pretty normal. I’m just not the kind of guy who can deal too well with that. I’m not saying that Shelly sits there and tells her date all about me. I know she doesn’t. It’s just that the things I thought were just between us are now secondary to the new relationship. Again, I’m not saying that’s wrong, it’s just the way it is.

Like I said earlier we don’t really talk anymore. She called when she heard Steve was sick and I wouldn’t have expected anything less. I still consider her part of my family, a bit estranged, but still part of my family. I know that she would be here in a heartbeat if something happened to me and I hope she knows the same is true for me. I talk to her mother on a regular basis and still call her my mother in law. I still think of her sister as my sister in law and so on and so on. The bottom line is that I’ve lost a really good friend and today is the anniversary of that really good friendship’s beginning. That’s the kind of stuff that’s going through my head today.

Some Things I've Learned

I’ll be 48 next week, and I’ve just been thinking of some of the things I’ve learned over the years. Here are a few, in no particular order.

Noxzema shave cream is the worst. Pure water.

The only thing we have to fear is the guy who thinks you’ve slept with his girlfriend/wife.

Pay attention when given advise, it’s often quite worthwhile.

Try to emulate your dog’s attitude. Odds are, they’ve got it wired.

Stay in school, don’t do drugs, etc… well, stay in school.

Travel as much as you can, you’re gonna blow the money anyway, might as well enjoy it.

Secret and Sure deodorants are the exact same product. Look it up.

When things get too serious, laugh. When they stare at you, laugh louder and walk away.

Find your happy place. Be it, music, humor, movies or whatever, find it. Remember where it is and never forget the directions there.

Treasure friendship. It’s so worth the effort.

Don’t spend so much time trying to please others. Unless you’re an ass, just pleasing yourself will keep them around.

Speaking of being an ass, don’t.

Baseball. That’s all, baseball.

Try to see live comedy on a regular basis. Nothing soothes the savage beast like a hard laugh with friends.

When you learn that someone cares about you, let them know how much it really means to you.

Be true to your ideals, even if you’re the only one that believes in them.

Desane and Aquafina smoke any other kind of bottled water. No contest.

Finally, at least for now, don’t forget that happy place thing.

Coming Home

I have been in a state of constant… amazement is the only word I can think of, when it comes to this whole Facebook thing. I’m talking about the finding and talking and refriending of all these people I knew as a kid. The whole concept just continually makes me catch my breath.

I am just astounded at the whole thing. There have been a number of folks that have posted class pictures from elementary school and seeing these kids in kindergarten and upwards is truly a treat. I didn’t move to Oak Park until I was 11 and I do not have contact with anyone from my early years.

The thing that really blows my mind is seeing a picture of someone that I’ve reacquainted myself with and right next to them, in the same class picture while they were maybe six or seven years old, is someone else that I’m friends with again too.

I feel a bit of jealousy when seeing those kinds of photos. I’m jealous because these people have not only grown up together but some have stayed in contact for their entire lives. I have one friend that’s been in a few posts that I have stayed in touch with and I know he and I both know how much we appreciate that. Even that relationship didn’t start until I was 12. Don’t think I’m downplaying that friendship at all. I’m very proud to call him my best friend.

The thing is, most of these people I’m talking about have stayed in the same area that they grew up in and stayed in a circle of friends that they’ve known throughout their entire lives. There must be quite a comfort in that. I’m sure some have doubts about whether or not they should have moved away or if they had and moved back, if that was the right move or not. The thing is, even if they had moved away and returned they went right back into that circle of friends they had known for as long as they could remember. I’m in the process of pushing my way back into that circle too.

Something that never leaves my thoughts during this coming home experience are the odds of it happening at all. I moved to California in 1980 and didn’t return until July 2007. During that time I made friends, got married, had kids and got divorced. No different than most people. The friends I made out west are friends I enjoyed having. There was only one that I’ve stayed in contact with over the years.

During those years away I thought of my youth, again, like most have. I would have a name pop into my head and wonder the proverbial, “whatever happened to” thing. I’m sure, whether or not people want to admit it, my name popped into a few noggins too. The thing is, not in a million years did I ever think I’d ever see let alone become part of the lives of this group of people I first started knowing at age 11 again. I know, it’s just me, but it truly leaves me speechless.

I don’t mean to get too deep here but becoming part of this “group” again is filling a hole in my life that I’ve felt has been there for years. It’s a void that, though I was never able to formally identify, has been part of my makeup since I went away all those years ago. Granted, I’m still a mess, but since I’ve been back I don’t feel I’m quite the train wreck I’ve always felt I’ve been. Perfect example: if I had still lived in California or Florida and gotten the news about my brother Steve, I would have had a handful of people to confide in about it. Now, I’ve got what seems like an entire community doing what they can to keep me upright and on the straight and narrow during a very trying time. You want to talk about a comfort level? I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.

Remember When We...

I’ve always felt that one of my better abilities is my memory. I seem to remember so much more about mine and my sibling’s youth than any of them and I always have. I use to attribute it to my obvious brilliance. Lately I’ve been thinking that there may be more to it than that.

I’m sure I’ve written before about times and events in my life that neither Karen, Steve nor David remembers nearly as well as I do. Karen seems pretty good at it and David can sometimes surprise me but Steve, well, let’s just say it aint happening. I have run into old friends of mine and my brothers and sister and will remind them of something that happened many years ago. The usual response, and it happened again last night with a friend of Karen’s, is along the lines of, “Kevin, How can you possibly remember that”? I don’t even think about it, it’s just something that plays in my head when seeing or talking to that person.

We all have triggers in our minds that go off when a sight, sound or even scent happens to hit us. For me, and I have no idea why, that trigger is constant. I’m not saying I have some kind of photographic memory or anything like that. It’s just that these people, places or events are up there and are always floating around.

I had contact with someone from high school just the other day. I asked about his brother by using the nickname we used to call him by. The response was one of shock. How could I remember that name? He said he could live to 100 and not remember that. I don’t know what to say, these are the pictures in my head.

I’ve spoken to a number folks about this memory thing and have found a common thread among those with the same, I don’t know, ability? It seems that those who are the youngest of their families happen to have the better memory among their siblings and even parents. I’ve been thinking about that for a few days and, ya know, it makes sense.

Being the youngest, I was always the one that was sent to go along with the others. I mean when mom would tell Karen or Steve to go do something they would either be asked to take me along or would bring me along for company. If it were to one of their friend’s houses I would sort of be just standing around watching and listening to whatever it was they would be doing. I don’t know if I’m explaining this as well as I want to. I was basically an observer. I think most younger siblings were put in the same boat.

I think being the youngest was an asset in that sense. I think my knowledge of all kinds of trivia is a result of being the youngest. I remember reading the newspaper at a very young age simply because I’d be home while Karen would be babysitting and having friends over. I couldn’t really hang out with her could I? I’ve written before about how I know more about nothing than anyone I know. Well, that doesn’t just happen by osmosis. When you’re the youngest you do spend a great deal of time just watching things. I just happen to have had the ability to retain a lot of what I observed.

While in high school I was blinded for a number of weeks. During that time I went about life as normally as possible. I also did little but observe then too. Again, I remember in great detail many of the things that were said or done during that period. I actually get a picture in my mind of where I was or who I was with. I think that period in time is also responsible for my remembering things as well as I do. There I was, 17 years old, blind as a bat and still living my life. What else was I going to do except observe. I also knew that this was a pivotal period in my life.

So there you have it. An explanation of my complete nerdiness when it comes to remembering my youth. I still don’t think I’m explaining it as well as I’d like but hopefully you’ll catch my drift.

You Don't Even Have To Look For It

I was on the phone with someone yesterday, commiserating about the snow, and I mentioned how I had shoveled the driveway but not the walk. I explained that I never used the walk. I always come in the garage. I said that the mailbox was on a pole across the street so there was really no reason for anyone to have to get to my door. Well, it couldn’t have been more than two or three minutes later, while still on the phone, that my doorbell rang. Sure enough it was the mailman. How is that even remotely possible? I couldn’t have planned it any better if I tried.

Stuff like that is so weird yet I find it kind of, I don’t know, comforting. It kind of confirms my thoughts on how comical life not only can be, but is. It’s kind of like the video I passed around of Lucky, part Siberian Husky, being afraid of the snow. You can’t make that kind of stuff up. It’s real life and I happen to find that reassuring.

Here’s a perfect example right now. I’m sitting here in my chair watching television. I turned on the weather channel to see what today’s forecast calls for and they guy just said we won’t get anymore snow until this evening. I look up at one of the windows here in the living room and see that it’s snowing pretty hard. What else can you do but enjoy this moment?

I think it’s vital that things are that way. If it weren’t I can’t imagine the stress we’d all be under. I mean, we all have stress in our lives and sometimes it can be overwhelming. My point is that without the comical side of life happening on a regular basis, I’m just not sure how we’d make it.

Venting Away

I’m really not too hip on the protocol on how things are supposed to feel with this whole thing with Steve going on. I’ve been talking to a few people about it and I keep saying that I almost feel selfish. I mean, isn’t it only natural to see this whole thing as how it affects me? It has to be doesn’t it? I mean, when I see the world I see it through my eyes. No matter how hard I try to put myself in another’s place it just doesn’t work.

I’ve been talking to so many people about what’s happening and so many have offered an ear or shoulder but how do you even begin that conversation. Hi, I’m afraid my big brother may be dieing? This is my big brother! I’m finding myself, throughout the day, completely breathless. I’ll be at work doing something mundane and out of nowhere my eyes well up and I literally have to hold onto something until I can catch my breath.

I’ve always been able to just get in the car and drive whenever anything has been on my mind. Now, when I need that comfort most, I find the car to be my most feared enemy. Almost as soon as I pull out of my development I have to pull over because I just don’t think I have the strength to turn the steering wheel. Once on the road I can’t seem to get the music loud and hard enough. I no longer sing along to it, I scream. I scream so hard that I can barely talk when I arrive at whatever the destination may be. The hardest thing is going to work. It’s normally about a half hour drive. It’s been taking almost twice that now with the little stops I make. I actually had a policeman knock on my window this morning as I had pulled off the freeway to try to collect myself before moving on. After explaining my embarrassing moment to him he left and all I could do was bang my head on the steering wheel a couple times.

I don’t just feel empty, I feel there’s even less there than the emptiness. I simply can’t breathe. There’s nothing there to force the air. I slept on the couch down here in the living room last night, fully clothed, because I didn’t think I could make it upstairs. I don’t even want to tell you the adventure it was to get up the stairs this morning to shower and shave. It’s probably a good thing that I work because, odds are, I’d never leave the chair. I know this will pass but I almost feel as if I somehow deserve these feelings. I know, there’s no logic there and that’s what makes me know that I’ll get by.

I’ve written a couple times in the past about the child inside all of us. How age and circumstances are always taking swipes at that child. I’ve written about how these things are always chipping away at that kid. This is easily the biggest hit I’ve taken and all I can think is how will I ever bring that kid to life again. That child is the one true thing I’ve had with me for as long as I can remember and I don’t know how one goes on without him.

I understand that Steve is still here and there have been plenty of people that have had liver transplants and done very well with them. I, of course, hope that Steve has the same if not better results. I told Steve that I would gladly donate part of my liver to him and we’re both in the process of finding out our blood types to see if we’re a match. I didn’t offer this because I’m some kind of hero, there’s nothing noble here. Those that know me very, very well know the reasons. They simply wouldn’t make sense to those that don’t. suffice it to say, there was never any question in my mind.

I really don’t want anyone to think I’m in any kind of danger. I’m just venting here. I know some of these feelings and actions are things I should keep to myself but again, if you know me, you know I can’t. This is my sounding board. Just keep him in your thoughts kids. On the Facebook site I’ve written about lately I joined a cause for the awareness of Hepatitis C. Well, this is why. Steve has had it for a number of years now and it seems this is the result of it.

It’s just so weird to feel this way and to be in this position. This is my big brother.

Bittersweet Symphony

I was so excited, looking forward to last night. Seeing “Barenaked Ladies” at the Fox Theater on New Years Eve. Surely a highlight for any fan and I consider myself a big one. I was thinking that I could never find a more perfect ending to what, for me, had been one of the most difficult years of my life. I was able to leave work early, get home to take care of the dog and get ready for the drive down to Detroit and an evening of pure delight.

I was meeting my friends down at one of their houses in Southfield and as I was turning onto his street my phone started ringing. I looked and saw it was my brother Steve. I actually debated whether to answer or not. When I picked up he sounded down and said he wanted to give me an update. I figured he was talking about his dog, Schooner, who’d been diagnosed with cancer last week. As I pulled into my friend Mark’s driveway Steve said that he had liver cancer.

I parked the car and we talked for a bit and he said that the Doctors told him that he’d be going onto a transplant list. He said he was a good candidate for it and they were confident they could get him one. He also said that if they couldn’t find one, in a certain period of time, he’d have to start chemo. He told me he talked to mom already and didn’t really want to deal with the kind of calls he would receive from the other siblings and Dad right then so he called me because he knew I wouldn’t do the freak out thing or pepper him with all the questions that are always asked and never answered until time has passed.

I told him I would take care of it and would tell them that he was out for the evening and left his phone at home so he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. (Sorry Karen). We agreed that I would tell Dad and David tomorrow and I would call Karen right after I hung up with him. We chatted a little more and made a few jokes about it and we laughed. It was good to laugh.

We laughed because that’s what I do. We laughed because, I sincerely believe, that’s why Steve called me and expected. It wasn’t a strong belly laugh, I know that will come after an adjustment period, but it was a laugh. We laughed because we didn’t want to cry and we both knew that the tears would come soon enough. We laughed because, well, what else do you do?

We hung up and I was ok so I called Karen, she’s up at her cottage, and I told her. I also told her the lie about Steve being out for the evening and told her that Steve had already talked to Mom. We both thought it important that one of us call her and I told Karen that I couldn’t do it right then. Not because I was busy but I just didn’t have the strength for it. She knew what I meant and said she’d do it. I turned off the car and headed up to Mark’s door.

I knocked once and opened the door. As I was closing it Mark walked into the room and said hey or some type of greeting. I said the same and held up one finger in a “hold up a second” kind of gesture. He thought I was going to say something inane I’m sure but I said this was serious. I told him about the call I just hung up from. I was starting to feel weak in the knees and bent down a little, grabbing them to keep myself steady. Mark gave me the space I needed and I told him I would be ok; I just needed to catch my breath. Mark’s known Steve since he was 12 so I know this wasn’t easy news for him either. We proceeded into the den and started deciding where we were all going to go for dinner before the concert.

We decided that Greek Town would be a good choice and piled into Mark’s car to head downtown. We enjoyed a nice dinner and talked a lot. They were both very kind and let me talk some about the evening’s earlier events. That’s what friends do and they’re both good friends. After dinner we walked over to the Fox and got our seats.

I loved the concert, I truly enjoy these guys and wrote about the last time I saw them while I was in Florida. I did a pretty good job of holding it together and was able to get into the show. I’ve talked to a couple friends today and tried to explain this but I just felt the absolute need to scream, I needed the release. The band is not what one would consider a hard rock type outfit but they have a few songs that hit the level I was seeking. Sometimes they play them and sometimes they don’t.

One of the songs that do provide the release I so badly needed is called “The Old Apartment”. I sang pretty much every song they played but when this one started I couldn’t scream the words loud enough. It was loud, it was noisy and it was exactly what I needed. In the last verse of the song, when Steven Page screams the line “Tore the phone out of the wall”, I was right with him. It was like a huge breath that had been waiting the entire evening for an exhale, was finally able to find it’s happy place. I started to cry a bit and had to take off my glasses to wipe my eyes. The rest of the show was like a breathing exercise. I would find myself losing it a little every now and then and would wipe my eyes and continue my singing along with the boys. It truly was the therapy I knew I’d receive the minute Steve got off the phone with me.

I truly don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have the concert to go to after hearing the news. You’re always told to be with friends and family in times of crisis and seeing the band, to me at least, was just like being with old friends. So thanks to Steven, Ed, Tyler, Jim and Kevin. Sounds kind of weird to say but I don’t know if I could have made it through the night without you. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d have rather been than with you guys at the end of what has certainly become the worst year I’ve ever been through.

After the show we drove back to Mark’s house and I picked up my car. I had to stop a few times on the way home for the tears to go away but the drive was another thing I think I really needed. I’ve talked to a few friends and gotten a few well wishing messages from others. I need to let you all know that I truly do appreciate the sentiments. I really do love you all and treasure your friendships during this ridiculously confusing time.