Allison and I marked the beginning of this summer season by traveling to Minneapolis to meet up with Weston and his band Motheater, on their way across the country on their first US tour. I had not seen Weston in over 6 years when I had traveled to Grand Junction, Colorado to visit him over spring break. We had plans to live together after high school and move to Phoenix or the Bay Area, and start a band. But now he lives in Denver pursuing a different path.
With time to kill, Allison and I drove up and down Lake Ave in south Minneapolis, shopping at various stores and observing the city life. The venue is tucked away behind a bike shop, kitty-corner from the MLPS Police Dept. We entered the enclosed gate, surrounded by bike punks and co-ops. We were definitely the squarest looking people there. I sat on the bench and waited nervously for Weston to arrive, wondering what he would like these days.
The venue itself was absolutely amazing. A large square room with fantastic murals covering the walls in all directions. Christmas lights were strewn about, offering enough light to fill the room. The stage was up front in a corner, and a makeshift bar in the back. Weston arrived through the front gate, gloriously handsome, tall, and skinny. I gave him a big hug and introductions ensued. The lineup for the show went: Motheater, Red Menace, Grabass Charlatons, Tim Version, White Mice, and the Coughs. We found a place to hole up for the night before our drive home in the morning.
Weston rode with Allison and I on the way back to Fargo. Allison slept soundly in the back seat while Weston and I chatted the whole way. Motheater opened the show, followed by Lazor Mountain, Grabass Charlatons, Tim Version, and the Soviettes. We went to the Fryn' Pan afterwards and Weston and I shared our high school stories with the rest of the crowd. It was a very sweet memory that I'll always be fond of.
I had always thought Weston was one of the best people I'd ever known, and was worried that somehow he had changed for the worst. But hanging out with him over two days, I noticed how polite and courteous he had become, how funny and intelligent he had always been, and what an all-round stand up guy he turned into.
Weston and I said our goodbyes, and though it was great to see him, it was difficult knowing that in the here and the now, Weston and I are still separated by a great distance.
I often wonder how things would've been different for me if I had made different choices in the past. I would be lying to say that I hadn't often wished that I had made other choices. But the future hasn't been written yet and perhaps Weston and I will be in the same city in the future, putting our once mutual goals and plans into action.
Outside of Weston, I briefly exchanged emails with the other relics of my past, riding the infatuation with the good ole' days and caught up in the rush of reconnecting with someone you hadn't expected to ever see again. I had always hoped that some long lost lover would track me down someday and bring me on Maury Povich, where it would be revealed that I was the big fish that got away. But there's nothing like that here. These people were at one time very important to me. But then you slowly remember the bad things about them or the differences that kept you apart in the first place.
Looking back now, I would've been perfectly happy idealizing certain people and only remembering the good times we had. But now things have been set straight a final time and I no longer want to go back anymore. Besides, the future seems too exciting and there's too many wonderful people in my life now not to be here, living in the moment. As of now, the emails have ended, except for Kara who drops in once in a while whenever she isn't in a relationship. Nothing came out of any of these online reunions. So what was the point? And why now? Perhaps this whole MySpace fiasco was a way for me to visit the past and to digest it. To end all of the second guessing about the choices I've made for myself in the past. I thought that I burned all of my bridges, and perhaps this wave of reuniting is out of obligation to the past. Despite our mutual plans and pacts, here we are, 5 years in between us, with nothing substantial to say to each other outside of the idle chit-chat of what we've been up to.
You would think that with email, we (people in general) would keep in better contact with each other. We don't. You would think that with the internet, the punk community would be closely knit, but the opposite is true. I often read editorials in punk 'zines about the lack of feedback their printed issues receive, despite how much easier it is for us to communicate these days. But people just revert to indulge their weblogs, and in that sense, I'm not much different. However, email seems to be edging out physical mail, and cell phones help people connect anytime, anywhere. I can?t help but feel that technology is slowly sterilizing how we communicate, making us lazier.
I've went through some changes this year. Most notably with Allison, which I've slightly talked about in this issue. Whatever has been said about us should be taken with a grain of salt. But I can't really talk about this past year without her being mentioned, because she has been a huge part of my life. She's been a common character in Chanimal Planet and I wish her nothing but the best. But the script is always changing and there?s a revolving cast. I am doing quite well these days, making new friends and having a little fun. I'm thinking clearly and keeping busy with projects, and I can't help but feel like things are going to be okay from now on.