I met my old lover On the street last night She seemed so glad to see me I just smiled And we talked about some old times And we drank ourselves some beers Still crazy after all these years
P. Simon
This song came to mind when I saw u2 take the stage the other night. Not that the fellas from the band and I had ever had anything that resembled a love affair, but I did share secrets and endless nights with the music they made in the 80’s. We stayed up all night on Friday nights together while USA network pumped the Red Rocks concert into my living room. We camped out in front of Music Plus to get concert tickets together. U2 and I were tight back when I was flailing around, trying to find out which end was up. They hung out with me at 3am when my world was surely ending, and pumped away through my walkman. Their albums seemed to feel magical in my hands. Come to think of it, their music was sort of like a secret lover. The kind where there were no commitments, no drama, no hassles. Only my closest of friends knew about the whole thing, and they understood completely. It was the kind of secret that I hated to let out. Not that I wanted to horde some secret information, I just didn’t want to let anyone in who might not get it. It seemed that if more people got involved, it would just end up a big confused mess. Then, one afternoon, The Joshua Tree was released. We ditched school that day. We bought our copies at Salzer’s in Ventura. I still have mine. It’s on vinyl and the poster is still in good shape. I listened to it last night. I think it sounds better than it ever did. As soon as The Joshua Tree hit, U2 mania was unleashed. This was a great thing for the band, but for me, it was disheartening at best. Although it was great that we got to see the band on TV actually doing interviews, it got to be too much. It was like seeing your secret lover in bed with the football team. I soon lost interest. I moved on to different things and different places. U2 and I would run into each other every now and then. When we did, it was awkward. We were different people than we were when we met. Bono became the fly or whatever the hell he was. They were not only in bed with the football team, but the soccer and basketball teams, too. We had nothing in common anymore. We fell out of touch. I listened to their new records not out of curiosity, but out of hype. I didn’t recognize them anymore. The other night, it was different. It was like meeting that same friend again, 20 years later. We are a little older. A little grayer. A little wiser. Oddly enough, we are now the same people we were when we met. All the wild experimentation and confusion are gone. It was like old friends meeting again, and realizing that even after all the drama, we are who always were. No more, no less. I think this is the first time I have been that much aware of the fact that no matter what the years throw at us, we still are who we were. And that is not a horrible thing. Thanks, guys.