A Slight Job Perk

I whine about my job. I find the people I'm asked to interact with have little to no ability to carry any sort of cerebral conversation, the travel sucks (last night I drove 5 hours for a 11 minute performance and got rained on: hard), and then there's this competitive nature that I just can't seemed be interested in entertaining for some reason or another. (I'm guessing this is the way most people feel about their jobs).

But then you have a night like last night that despite the quite literally torrential downpour & the bloodied children, was a very nice night. Being involved in this activity for so many years, I have made the handful of what I could classify, albeit loosely, as good (dare I say best) friends. These people usually end up living across the country or in places that I'm just not willing to venture, and such is the case with last night and meeting up with Rick.

History Lesson
Rick Subel & I met on a fateful day back in the winter of 1998. I don't remember much about the evening, other than quickly receiving the nickname of "Cowboy" (I truly don't recall the reasoning) and sleeping on the floor of an apartment that to this day I don't know the tenant of. From there the relationship flourished to becoming fellow performers, roommates, composers, co-workers, lunch dates, and brothers. And as is the nature of this activity & its inhabitants, when opportunity knocks we usually don't hesitate to answer, even if the knocking is coming from like, Texas. So, long long story short, Rick moved to Georgia, I happened to land a gig there the following season and thought "Hey, what a coincidence!" and then after a year in the dirty south Rick landed another, better paying gig in Texas, only to return to Georgia after a year or so of the yee-hawing lifestyle. We gave it another go, but it was evident Ricks newly chosen involvement was more than the relationship could withstand. So we broke up.

Now I see him here and there, when stars align and bring our groups into the same hemisphere. Last night was one of those nights.

Rick & I at my wedding

It was merely a brief 20 minutes in a brightly lit auditorium, and the conversation was all too often interrupted by the annoyingly self-proclaimed "loudest giggler in the world" (who was also a 45 year old man who was supposed to be working) but it was nice to sorta catch up and hear what he's been up to and what he's planning to be up to. As usual, he's got things in the works. We talked guard & music & living arrangements & waxed poetic of days of yore. It was nice and put me in a better mood, considering the rest of the night was a complete wash. A nice, quick reunion. Maybe that is enough. A brief encounter every 9 months or so. He's invited us out to the city tonight for dinner & some drinks before he and his girl Andria have to fly back south. I don't think we'll go.