I spent the day with an old friend last week. We first met in the late 80’s, when I sold some speakers to him (both he and I are guitarists). He was a gentle soul, polite and funny, the deal went smoothly, and was soon forgotten. A year or three passed, and everything changed: My marriage asploded, as did the band I was playing with. I moved, embarked on a Tragic Love Affair, and looked for a new band.
I met the drummer of a band seeking a lead guitarist, a nice guy who dropped off a cassette (yes, pre-home-CD). The songs was amazing, and I was VERY impressed. I went down for a jam/audition, and the first thing I noticed, as I loaded in, was my old speakers. I looked up, and there was the singer/songwriter of the band: The same guy I’d met years before, who’d purchased them.

It was Meant To Be. I joined, and we played, and he consoled me through the end of my Tragic Love Affair. We’ve remained close ever since, despite his move out of state and long stretches of not being able to see each other. His was the last “real” band I played in… I subsequently moved on from music as a career altogether. Everything changed.

One of the upsides of the time compression that comes with age is that the spaces between seeing loved ones mean less and less… Hanging out that day last week, my friend and I picked right up as if no time had passed, caught up on the details and laughed a lot. It was great. To top it off, he gave me a CD with some of the old tunes on it. I listened to them all the way home.