July 26, 2012

Get Out The Map...Love In An Uncommon Place

In the summer of 1989, I sat in a cramped little room with a high ceiling and long narrow windows.  It was white with a faux (cause that sounds better than fake...which is what it was) cherry table and lots and lots and lots of law books.  Every morning my aunt and I drove to work into the big city of  Hot 'Lanta (um, you know, Atlanta?) and she bought me a lemon poppy seed muffin and a Coke.  It was a very big girl thing to do, especially since I was still trying to master this teenager thing.  My job was to update the law books while drinking copious amounts of Diet Coke and singing along to the little radio/cassette player the boss had let me borrow. I don't think my pay included all the Diet Coke I was drinking from the office fridge, but it's too late to worry now.

My cassette of choice that summer was the Indigo Girls. (Stop for a moment and digest the fact that I just referred to a cassette player.  Some kids don't even know what those are. Wait till I break out my mix tapes.)  I sang it and breathed it and lived it....or so I thought.  Really, I was just another girl working my way through the Hell we call adolescence. I mean, c'mon, I couldn't stop by the bar at 3 am to seek solace in a bottle or possible a friend. That was at least seven years away.

On a perfect summer night many moons ago, I got to see them live.  It was akin to magic.  It was on the lawn at Biltmore and I was with my bestest friend, who also happens to know all the words. We had a great dinner and then sang our happy little souls out late into the night.  We came home happy.  

Tonight, many years beyond the first time, I got to see them play live again.  It was magical, but even more so than the first time.  

The Bijou is small...sort of like what it would be if I invited Amy and Emily over for a spot of tea and then they just happened to break out some music to say thank you for me being such a lovely and gracious hostess all the while I'm sitting on the couch.  They were amazing, but what I saw in the audience took my breath away and brought tears down my cheeks.  For real.  

There were two women in the section next to us.  They were about five or six rows down on the end seats.  Judging by their solid white hair and affinity for the Alfred Dunner collection, I'd go out on a limb and place them in their 60s.  They were cute as buttons.

As the song "Get Out The Map" begins, I notice these women for the first time.  Not because of anything you might think.  One of the women was looking intently at the other.  The other woman was bobbing her head and singing along.  What one might miss were her hands.  Her hands were animated butterflies dancing around in front of the first woman's face.  They bobbed and weaved...They swayed side to side and bounced off her face and chest.  She was telling the story of the song to her partner who could hear nothing.

People who are deaf can feel the vibrations of music.  I think it would be like sitting behind a low-rider truck with several 12" speakers and about 10,000 watts of amplifiers at a red light.  I don't know what freaking song is playing, but HOLY CRAP! DO YOU FEEL THAT BASS?!!  The lady who could not hear could feel all the sensations of the music, but could also 'hear' the words because someone loves her enough to sit beside her for 3 whole hours and sign every.single.word to her.  That?  That's love. 

I don't have a witty ending for this...just happy knowing some people do love each other to the moon and back.   

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for sharing! Love is an amazing thing! Peace and love....