Afterglow

I am basking in that afterglow. That familiar and yet unexpected and inexplicable afterglow. I felt like I wanted to write about it but in an afterthought on afterglow.... I think I will simply continue to bask.

Phantom regulars

It's funny. The passage of time has done so little to dim the expectation I feel as I sip my pint at this large wooden table, listening to the music, the soundtrack to our adventures. Is it strange that I still look for you? That it is still second nature to watch the door every Tuesday evening - waiting for you to arrive? I know you're not coming. I know you're thousands of miles away on your island. I know this. But it does not stop me from turning and looking expectantly towards the door. It does not stop me from hearing the heartfelt harmonies sung in deep voices across the room. It does not stop me from wishing to hear, one more time, that cheesy cover or some Johnny Cash.

I curse other thin young men in touques when they are not those I crave, no, EXPECT to see. Curse them for making my heart skip a beat when I catch glimpses of them from the corner of my eye.

Because to me you're still as much a part of this place now, as you were then. When I think of the regulars, you're still all here. Like the big wooden chairs and the Guinness posters. And so I watch the door, and hum the harmonies, and await your return.

PS - Dec 1st is "Best of" night... that'd be a good time to come back...dontcha think?

New Moon on Monday...

Duran Duran. Band of my pre-teen heart; songs I can still recognize from their opening beats, a whisp of the bassline or plink of a synthesizer note; faces that made up the wallpaper in my bedroom - torn from Tiger-beat, Teenbeat, Bop and whatever other crazy little magazines I could get my hands on; purveyors of the grandest videos ever (some would argue, or at least the grandest of their time...). My first bass player crush.

They played Friday night in Toronto. A bar show that sold out in 10 minutes over a month ago. My cohorts and I spent most of last week lamenting the fact that Toronto was their only stop - and we are not there. But oh the walk down that memory lane was a pleasant one. In a room with like minded (and similar aged) girls... it was so easy to share in the nostalgia, even though none of us had met back then - scattered as we were over the vastness of (not only) this country, easy to be transported back to that time of giddy fascination...

I guess I've dated myself now. But I don't care. I just read a review of the show - it sounds as though it was one for the books, the boys have aged well apparently. What I would have given...