The Chicago skyline view we had was inspiring. I had been texting with Susan and so I was doubly anticipatory of arrival. And indeed there she was when we pulled up. I start clapping and singing a made up song, and the rest of the band starts singing a made up song about Susan and it was glorious. Indeed she had scheduled a layover in Chicago on her way from New York to Seattle, a thing I was very much looking forward to.
It’s typical to see Susan in the audience, so the last few performances didn’t feel complete for me. Not only is it reassuring to see her familiar smiling face out in the audience, but she thoughtfully helps manage the things that I would forget or not have time for at all. I sure hope I do the same for her…
And true to form: she ordered food foe the band to be delivered so we didn’t have to eat energy bars. So thoughtful.
The Hideout is awesome. It has a Chicago alleyway in the back, with “Chicago” in graffiti sprawled in it. Joel thought of this much later that we should have gotten a Band Photo (Tm) against that perfect alleyway brick wall. I also discovered halfway through the night that there is a green room, besides the service passageway behind the stage. The green room is up some stairs behind a hidden door. It is in fact a Hideout (Tm), with beers, tables, and full bath. Sweet.
The bands are awesome on this night. First is Secret Means of Escape, a duo with guitarist Mike Shippy who has a crazy tuning and lots of bent notes. But it is done in a way that doesn’t seem dissonant at all. It is captivating and strange, much like the Hideout’s odd Americana decorative style and checkerboard floor.
The second band, Master Component, is also seemingly an expression of the venue itself. A duo of circuit bending and kitsch cowboy poetry and song. Very creative.
DAMA/LIBRA hits the stage with full force, a bit of an anomaly with our extended phrasing… Yet folks are responsive and appreciative! For the first time, I’m relaxed and fully in control, despite the missing chime-a-tron. The hand bells seem to fill in good enough, and they are no longer confusing. Yet, I notice an odd odor of melting plastic near the end. Well, doesn’t matter, everyone had fun and we made enough for gas money!
We load out in the 70% humidity, overpowering doe this Seattle wimp, and I bid my sweetie adieu as she has a 7am flight to catch.
The band does not stand for any of it. No no, I must spend the evening with Susan, they insist emphatically. We did not plan for this, as it could turn into a coordination nightmare. But no, we find ourselves jammed into the same cab and whisk off to the hotel.
It is a bittersweet night. Such a comfort to spend an evening together, to be regaled with Susan’s tales of a New York adventure… And yet I have only enough energy to shower, set an 8am alarm, and I pass out in exhaustion from loading hardware 4 times. She kindly lets me fade out, though I am sure it is equally frustrating to be in the same bed yet feel thousands of miles apart. In the morning, she is gone. No text yet from the band, so I reset the alarm, curl up in fetal position alone in a massive bed, and drift off to sleep again–more alone and cold than ever within a plush and well air-conditioned luxury suite hidden from band and soul mate.