end of the line and a john hiatt concert

Last night Susan and I went to Ravinia to see a concert. John Hiatt and the Combo were the headliners and Big Head Todd and The Monsters were the opening act. It was the last show of the Ravinia season. It was 9/11. It was a lot of things to a lot of people. It was the first time we had seen BHTATM and we were pleased! BHT put on a fine show featuring plenty of guitartistry (new word - just made it up. i like it!), good for the ears vocals, interesting songs and BHTodd never stopped smiling and enjoying himself. It was a great way to start off the last night.


The not-so-excellent element of being at Ravinia for the last night of the season was the limited selection of premium beers and ice cream! They were obviously using up the balance of their seasonal stock in both cases. I've never paid 7 bucks for a Coors Light before. I paid 7 bucks for one last night, though. There wasn't a Heineken or Amstel Light on the premises and I needed a cold beer and needed it quick. So I swallowed my pride and then I swallowed a 7 dollar Coors Light. 


Never again, I told myself. Never again will I subject myself to a second rate taste just because some bottom line front office type decided to not supply enough of the top of the line item in order to save on some re-stocking charge.


Then we went to the ice cream concession stand. I wanted a mint chocolate chip cone. It's only the best flavored ice cream. Susan was looking forward to her cookie's n cream cone. Her favorite. My Number Two. We got in line. Noticed that half the serving area was shut down. Only three kids working the counter. Uh oh. Got to the front and found out, no premium ice cream. No mint chocolate chip. No cookies n cream. Vanilla. Chocolate. Strawberry. And something called Cappuccino Crunch. My five minute old vow to turn my back on second rate? Dang it! Give me a chocolate cone. Susan got a Cappuccino Crunch. The Coors Lights of the ice cream world.


End of the season. End of the food and drink stock. 


The sun set. The stage lights came on. The opening act performed and pleased. A short break then, John Hiatt and The Combo took center stage. 


I've seen John H. on stage many times since the first time I saw him in the late summer of 1990. Seen him with Sonny Landreth and The Goners. Seen him solo with just his acoustic and a piano. Seen him with this current band, The Combo, in what is now it's second incarnation. Seen him in the defunct Poplar Creek Theater (moment of silence, please, for the long gone and still sorely missed venue). Seen him at the legendary Birchmere club in Alexandria, Virginia. Seen him in a big top on the shores of Lake Superior a half day's drive from...anywhere. Seen him on the main stage of the Cayamo cruise in the Caribbean. Twice! Still the best vacation EVER. And we've said that same thing, each of the three times we've gone.
I've met him and shaken his hand three or four times. He's signed my ballcap. He's taken his picture with us. 


I've been a huge fan for well over 20 years so anything I say about his performance is completely and unabashedly biased. The man's been a part of my life through low points and high. I give full credit to his Slow Turning record as one of the things that helped me recover from acute depression many years ago and helped me to remember the important things in my young life. Reminded me to see the big picture. I understood - things may seem bad now but don't judge those things in their current state. Let them unravel and reveal their complete selves. The revelations will no doubt take a while to show themselves completely. What I was seeing was just a part of the entire process. And that revelation process would only start from inside me before working it's way out. 
Those words, those thoughts were life altering. I've since talked to other people who have had similar experiences with the same music. I know those words of comfort could be found in any number of sources. Books. Lecturers. Family. Friends. Teachers. Ministers. Mine happened to show through a remarkable combination of words and music of a singer/songwriter from Indianapolis/Nashville accompanied by the guitar licks of Mr. Sonny Landreth, from Breaux Bridge, Louisiana.


And whatever it was that hit me way back when, it's stuck with me through the years. So every time I get the chance to see John H. play, in whatever configuration, in whatever locale, I'll go back, enjoy the music and remind myself of the important things in my life. 
It never fails to amaze and fulfill.


Last night was no exception. 


Even from the last row. On the last night. "Suffering" through that last beer and last ice cream. 


Knowing as I do that summer doesn't always end when schools open or when pools close or when Labor Days are celebrated or when calendars insist, last night had a sense of closure to it. 
The end of things as I've known them is coming. The end of the line is at hand. The Doctor is past healing or being healed. 


But when John H. ended his show with a heart- and gut-wrenching version of his song about the 9/11 catastrophes, When New York Had Her Heart Broke, and followed it up with his classic, Have a Little Faith In Me, there was no place I'd rather be. No one but my lovely wife I'd rather be with. 


Ends are beginnings. Beginnings are ends. A friend reminded me of that this weekend. 

It's just a Slow Turning...