Although I am supposed to be on top of household duties today, I couldn’t let the day go by without expressing a little something. I don’t know why today is the day for sentiment from me, but here we are, and this is happening.
So, here’s the thing: I live on the west coast, as many of you might know. Although 9/11 was a terrorist act on our entire country, I would be completely out of line to suggest it was as horrible for me as it was for someone who lived in New York, or even the East Coast. I know for certain it was not. I did know someone who died that day. Even so, it feels far, far, removed from my life these days. Every year on the 10th of September, I do feel a little anxiety over the next day to come, and for the longest time while I was homeschooling my kids, I took that day to talk with them about the events of 9/11. The day was never quite as sad for us as it must be for those who lost loved ones that day, but I think about it every year, as I’m sure most Americans do. Those sentiments will not change.
In 2015, however, the day came to mean a little bit more. It is now not only an anniversary marked with sadness and anxiety, but also one with a silver lining of happiness—although this year, it feels bittersweet. Paper Gods was released on this date, and is now five years old. Five years. That number is incredible to think about, almost unfathomable. I can’t decide if I am more emotional over the fact that Paper Gods has come to mean so much as an album, or if it is because I can barely believe that at one point not-so-long ago, we were allowed to move freely. We were allowed to LIVE.
I am not one who dreams. I mean, I can’t remember the dreams I’ve had when I wake up in the morning. I suppose part of that is because these days, insomnia seems to be a part of my normal “sleep” (who am I kidding?) patterns. Oddly though, last night, or early this morning, I did dream. I hadn’t even been thinking about the Paper Gods anniversary, but I know that the Daily Duranie 10th anniversary has been on my mind pretty consistently as of late. I can’t help it. I never thought we’d get to this point and it all feels a little surreal. In any case, today seems like the perfect time to share this dream. I think it will speak to many of your hearts.
It was the first show any of us had been to in a while, and in true fashion – Amanda and I were both there, amongst many of the people we’ve seen countless times at other gigs over the years. I could name the faces in my dream for sure. Some would surprise Amanda, and many of them shocked the hell out of me. We were waiting in a line – the VIP/Fan Club line to get into a very large venue to see Duran Duran. It was a dedicated show, they were going to play their new album, and we were very excited.
As we were let in (Mind you, it wasn’t chaotic at all – we were led in a single file line, and that’s the way we stayed, so you KNOW this was a dream!), rather than being taken down to the front rows, our rows were in the middle of this large, indoor venue. The area felt far more like a massive theater than a stadium or concert hall. Rather than have a separate floor area with large sections on the sides, we seemed to be led into a row on the sides that then extended down onto the floor and back up the other side of the venue. The rows were steep, too—with red theater-type chairs bolted to the ground. They were the type that were cushy, with seats that fold up until they were pushed down and sat in.
First we were taken all the way down onto the floor, but then for some reason, we were forced to walk back up the way we’d came, so that most of us ended up at the top of the seating (picture the nosebleeds) area. Due to the shape of the theater, there was nothing in front of us to see but a wall off in the distance. It quickly became apparent that in order to be able to see the stage and band, we would have needed to be down the row farther as it extended onto the floor. The entire fan community who attended were all in the same section, each one of us in the same boat.
Can you imagine the chaos? The complaining? The whining?
Yes, well, this was a dream. There was none. I can remember from my dream that I was standing and listening to the first chords from the band. In the same instant that I was disappointed I couldn’t see them, I began dancing anyway. We discovered that there was plenty of room near the end of the aisle for dancing, and took up that space along with many others. We laughed, we smiled, we danced. In my dream, all I felt was joy.
After the show, which in my dream was literally over in a blink—Amanda and I walked out with the others. We chatted with everyone, and we all said the same thing—it didn’t matter. We were so thrilled to be there, to hear live music and be in the same space again, that the seating made no difference. All I kept thinking about, and continue thinking about after I woke up, was that Nick had said in a recent Katy Kafe that he hoped after this pandemic was over that people would be a little more thankful.
Indeed.
I can’t wait for the day when we can be together again. I think I live with that hope in my heart, and it keeps me going when life gets rough. At the same time, I worry that the time may never come, or if it does—I won’t be able to participate. Hope that this “unprecedented time” comes to an end, is equally paired with worry it never will. Even so, I try to suppress the negativity as best as I can. Just as it feels unfathomable that Paper Gods was released five years ago, and that it has easily been that long since I’ve seen many of you, it it seems unfathomable that I will go the rest of my life without seeing and hearing Duran Duran live, hugging Amanda, or giggling over cocktails with Lori and Suzie, or even trading texts with friends who saw *laughs* Dom somewhere, and want to alert me! (I’m being daring by writing this, but you know—I’m almost 50, and don’t care anymore. Bye-bye filter!)
I miss all of you.
-R
