Once again, the band is All Crazy!

arsey :: january 2009 :: da ‘brook

The past week has been an interesting, very long one, filled with up and downs.  More downs than ups, unfortunately. That’s the price to pay when you’re a grown up, I guess.  Time to file it under “shit happens” and move on.  It’s a new week, I’m not getting out of my jammies today and my to-do list consists of blowing off everything and everybody and playing the Sims 3. My last day of hiding and licking my wounds, if you will.

Last night, I went to CT.  It was originally a trip with the hubby to see All Crazy play at Up or on the Rocks in Hartford, with maybe the chance to hook up with some friends at the show.  Wasn’t feeling social enough for the birthday party festivities being held earlier in the night (Sorry, M!), but really wanted the fun night out enjoying the indie music scene. Guess I’m in withdrawal while Instrument is on a temporary hiatus… Although, it does crack me up that I drive the two and a half hours to Hartford for indie music when I live an hour from the scene in Boston. 

Anyhoo, trip with hubby became a solo trip.  I went in early to hang out with The Boy. Because of the timing and the fact that we have two furry children, J stayed at home to take care of them.  I don’t think our reunion would have been the same with him there, so it’s probably best he stayed home. It was good to see The Boy again - to hug him, to chat with him, to prove the last few weeks haven’t been some weird f’ed up dream. I was painfully reminded of what he had meant to me and what he still does.  The amount of time that has passed has yet to properly heal my broken heart, I guess.  We had a whole, difficult, discussion on marriage and what it means, but that’s an entry for another time… I’m not ready to go there yet and since it’s not about my marriage, but his, maybe it’s better kept offline anyway. It did open up a very interesting internal dialogue about the power of love and the effect of addiction on relationships around 3AM this morning as I was flying down 495 and I think I learned something from it.  I guess we really do still have much to teach each other.  Who would have thought my Dad would be so right?

I was also reminded of just how small my world was when I bookended this week with with not one, but two people who know either my family or me.  Last Sunday, I decided to go to a meeting of the UNWLA (The Ukrainian National Women’s League of America - NOT The Ugandian Nationals with Long Arms, like my Facebook friends want to think! *grin*).  It’s a part of me that I want to connect to since I was never able to in the past.  Well, as I’m saying why I wanted to join, I mentioned that my family was involved with building St. Michael’s Ukrainian Catholic Church in Hartford.  The woman to my left asked me my mom’s name and when I told her, she freaked out. She knew my mother.  She lived in Hartford when she was younger, they went to Ukie camp together and even remembered that my mom died young, in the 1990s.  HOLY FREAK ME OUT, BATMAN!

Top that off with hearing someone tell me, “Oh! So and So’s boyfriend says he knows you” last night - right before he walked in.  Turns out he remembers me from high school.  It took a minute to place the face, but OMG! His memory of me is so detailed, I’m starting to wonder just how off my perception of myself is.  I’ve always thought I was the quiet one in high school.  The wallflower.  Never made any waves, blended into the background, that sort of thing. I always though that it took college and a Latvian bulldozer to bring me out of my shell and assist me with finding this new, outspoken, not afraid to be social, me. Nope - he remembered me from choir and knew I was in the band and drama club and, and, and… He even remembered me being at several parties at UConn, although I don’t remember him being there at all. Again, all I can say is HOLY FREAK ME OUT, BATMAN!  Or sing, “It’s a Small World”, but I don’t want to be responsible for planting that earworm in teh interweb’s collective ear.

That’s not really the point of this entry though.

The thing that I love about the little bands is the access to the members.  Whether it’s getting hugs from Danny D (from the ska band Skinnerbox), getting shout outs from “Bret Michaels” and Poor Pluto, being pen-pals with my friend Scott The Roadie (BiG MiSTAKE), and, of course, hanging out with those crazy boys in Instrument, getting to be part of the shows is just so much fun.  There’s that connection, that vibe, that really makes all the time I’m spending in my car worth it.  All Crazy’s show last night was no exception.

When Skinny (the violinist) found out it was M’s birthday, he bought us a round of shots.  We spent a lot of time talking with Soup (vocals), too. It was awesome that they were appreciative of the fact that V & I saw them in Cambridge a few months ago.  I loved that Skinny interacted with us while we were dancing near the stage.  Soup kept doing shout outs to the birthday girl, Boston, and even New Hampshire once Soup found out I was from there. (They did a kick-ass cover of The Dropkick Murphy’s “Shipping Up to Boston” for us.  While I hate that song with every fiber of my being, I actually found myself singing along and having a great time.) These guys know to mix covers and originals to get the crowd into it and they really do make a point to infect the crowd with their passion for what they’re doing.

I’ve been around “little” bands who don’t know how, are uncomfortable with, or choose to ignore, the importance of building their fan base. (Unfortunately, my beloved friends in Instrument seem to fall in this category from time to time.  They really need to focus on the answer to “what would Tool do?”)  All Crazy totally gets it and the experience is much better because of it.  After the show, Skinny gave us t-shirts and CDs, and Soup came over and spent even more time talking to us.  It was nice and it was REAL.  They’re playing in CT a lot this summer and I’ll probably make the trek down several times.  It’s worth it - I really like their music and I want to see them succeed. Even if I was “eh” about their music, I’d probably go see them again, anyway.  Just because they’re good people.

I’m fortunate that I have a husband who supports me going out - sometimes not coming home for days because of the travel - and reliving such an important part of my past.  Granted, I can’t relive ALL of it, nor would I want to, but I do get to enough to remind me of a time when I was truly happy.  Before my world changed for the worst.  It’s healing in a way I can’t put into words. 

And it’s exactly what I needed last night.