Kicking It Old School

On Tuesday night, the RRHB and I went to a benefit for a film that our friends are producing independently. It was the first and only time this week I actually left the house for something other than work or school. The whole night was fun until about 10 PM when my stomach started acting up again and the whole am-I-or-aren't-I going to barf thing started up. Stupid meds.

Bob Wiseman played. The first show I ever crept into when I was underage was a Bob Wiseman show at the Rivoli. I went with my crazy ex-boyfriend from high school who ended up becoming a heroin addict. The RRHB was there too. We were in a car with windshield wipers that didn't work and it was raining. I wore a Mexican poncho my father had brought back for me from some vacation he was on.

Six months later I was with a different boy and half the school wasn't talking to me because of said "drama." Six months after that I was diagnosed with Wegener's for the first time. I listened a lot to Bob Wiseman that year.

Then, I spent a few years at university going to Bob's shows, watching him in different bars, learning all of his songs, each time probably with a different boyfriend-of-the-week. Once, after one of his shows, he was packing up and we were introduced, albeit briefly. He said, "You have a very interesting voice." And then just looked at me strangely.

Ah, the joys of being so young.

"We got, we got, we got, we got, time."

It's funny how when you're young, you think that you actually do have a lot of time. These days, I think I'm already one foot in the ground with all the crap from the disease. But it's nice to remember how much fun I used to have, even if I can't have so much of it these days.