Things that bind us together

A Dedication to my Mates:

The in-between year

In my life I can clearly remember with vivid details the events that shaped my being. The school year 1979 - 1980 was a year I consider.....nearly a loss, but also transitional. It was our Junior year at the mighty BL. The previous year was almost surreal. Still, it is with only fondness that I recall the events of our sophomore season. Going into that middle season was met with much uncertainty. It was clear our innocents was wearing away, but we wore the mantle of pride with some degree of honor and consent. It felt as though we all had shoes far too large for many of us to fill, but fill them we'd try. So many things happened that year, it is hard to believe it happened at all. Before we knew it, that season had passed and we, the fledgling class of '81, were out front - but no so fast....

Our football season during that "in between year" was filled with high expectations, but produced less than could have been imagined. I played a lot of football that year. Spending a week at a national camp during the summer, I got to play with some of the best in my age group. I spent the summer running stairs and practicing deep kicks nearly every night. By the time summer conditioning had started, I had already worn-out a pair of cleats. By our second game of the season I had worn the rubberized coating nearly completely off of my facemask. Playing a ton of JV and some Varsity, I was hitting a lot. But the first hard facet of reality set in after missing an extra point in an overtime that cost us the game. You see, I'd never really practiced field goals, or extra points - I didn't know anything about it. Coaching...right - none to be found here. I was called into service after the kid that really wasn't a kicker, and was thrown into a "no win" situation and got injured. I had no idea what I was doing, but the situation was "hot". It didn't go well....  After the longest bus ride of my life that night, I headed straight home and crashed on my bed - HARD. With the FM dial still playing quietly in my bedroom the next morning, the very first thing I heard was the score of the previous evenings game. Cypress 19, Ben Lomond 18. Kill me now! The rest of the season didn't get much better over all. I personally seemed to get past that night, but we just struggled. And then there was the blow up at half time. It was the rivalry game at home. The head coach went after one of the team captains for allegedly missing a key block. The captain in response was having nothing of it and laid into the coach. Suddenly we were a team again, but this time we had our work cut out for us. Having won our only game of the season, in the weeks previous contest against a very weak team, we had nowhere to go but up. In classical fashion, we won and retained the "Horse", but that would be the end of any daylight for that year. From there, days were filled with obligations and formalities. There were a few highlights, but for the most part, that year was a bonified write-off.

I can recall the music I listened to during that year, the friends I ran with and the struggles I encountered. Somewhere just after the New Year holiday, I bought The Beatles - "Let it be" vinyl. I listened to that thing over and over, trying to pick all the guitar parts out and understand how they did it. I was an absolute Beatles fan, from way back. My older sisters had turned me on to Sgt. Peppers when I was in the sixth-grade. I had started concert band at ten years old and was captivated by the arrangements of several Peppers tracks. McCartney was a god to me. I had read so much about all of them by the time I purchased "Let it be" on vinyl. As the year wore on, I of course moved along with the flow, doing what came with the seasons of the year. By Summer I was changing my routine to focus on extra-points, field-goals and running my guts out. I took a few days to make a trip with a youth group to Calf-Creek Canyon, of the Escalante drainage. When I returned home that Saturday night, my life had changed in ways not to be understood for many years later.

By now, the innocents was nearly completely gone and we were on our way.....to somewhere. 

Trials and Shaping

When football "two-a-days" started, I was literally uncertain of where I'd be going in life. I had total confidence, but nearly zero self-esteem. It wasn't but only a few days before our season opener that I challenged a kid for a position and won the job. I guess I had waited all that time to simply be "given" my position. So determined was I in winning that spot, that kid challenged me directly after having beat him to win the position, that I accepted the challenge and beat him again. The coaches tried to stop it as this could have been a mess. However I said "lets settle this thing here and now" which we did. I earned my spot and I owned it for the remainder of the season. We started off well, but lost our rivalry at the end of the season, as well as our chance of playing into the State playoffs. From there the cold winter seemed to set in - with no snow and only smog. Seemed only fitting for the time.

There are things that happen when nearly every person can recall where they were, what they were doing, or how they came to know of an event. That school year had several of those events; the hostages were freed from Iranian captivity, Ronald Regan was shot, the "Miracle on Ice", the Pope was shot and of course....the untimely death and senseless murder of a Beatle.  December 8th, 1980 - the evening John Lennon was shot and killed outside the Dakota in Manhattan. I had just finished arranging a Christmas gift for a girl I had been "dating", as well as purchased a Vinyl copy of The Edgar Winter Group's "They only come out at night" vinyl. A friend was just dropping me off at home. It was dark, cold and smoggy. I remember the details of that gold-braid rope bracelet as if I still had it in my hand. Everything is so vivid to this day. I heard on the radio as I was getting out of my friends truck that John Lennon had been killed. Everything about that night was solidified in my mind forever. I don't recall everything that happened over the next few weeks, other than the usual tasteless tabloid fodder and crap, but I knew the world was changing - and I in the middle of it all.

Getting Back

There are few people my age who would likely know as much Beatle trivia as I - for any number of reasons. Last week I finished watching Peter Jackson's remake of the Michael Lindsay-Hogg documentary, "Get Back". I know the entire backstory. I know all about the fracturing and struggles. The whole Alan Klein thing, Billy Preston and of course the legendary "roof top concert" (fifty-three years ago to this very day). The 1970 documentary painted a picture of nothing but tension between the lads. The events that followed were widely publicized in the media and tabloids, but all fed a specific narrative. It seemed to be so true, in fact nothing but true for so many years - until last week. I've been told by people who know me, they can tell I love playing my guitar just by how I change when I pick it up. I can see it in others, because I can see it in myself first. And then there is just absolute chemistry. Watching early on when the lads were being "pimped" by their own label, it was clear that the loss of Brian Epstein was more than anyone else could have predicted - and now they were facing the world on their own. After several days of deteriorating conditions, they relocated to more accommodating surroundings at the newly formed studio arrangement. With this, George Harrison invited Billy Preston to sit in with them and play their newly acquired Fender Electric piano. Billy was simply there to do the "Lulu" show, not as a session player. If there was any chemistry, this would be the precipitate. In all of this, you can clearly see the undeniable bond between Lennon and McCartney. It hit so hard, it was almost difficult to watch - knowing how it all would end only a few months later. But the "end", we were all told was a lie; packaged by media and attorneys to meet their needs. The truth is, that bond wouldn't die until a bullet did the deed more than ten years later. Having that fresh in my mind, I sat down and listened to the entire "Let it be" album all over again. Somehow in those noise cancelling headphones, it was the spring of 1980 again. Lennon was still alive, as were most of my own dreams and aspirations. That trip to Escalante hadn't yet happened, nor did I know the pain of any betrayal, or distrust. For just under an hour I got to go back. And "get back" I did. What I would give to have that year to do over the right way.

I won't let you sink....

I have brothers and sisters from the time of my youth. Some are more so than others, but they are all still my brothers and sisters. We generally best remember those things of a positive nature. Some we choose to forget, as it carries too much pain. Over time we also forget some promises we made to each other, both verbally as well as implicitly. Some promises were meant to be kept, others just shallow mumblings of nonsense. But as we examine our past, we understand more of our future - as it is clearly written before us. We have all been so changed and challenged by our own life's events. For many, we'll never recognize who we've become. For others, we get subtle reminders of who we really are under the façade of our own making. Fortunate are the few that can actually remind each other, we are far more than the sum of all the events of our lives. Much simpler in fact, in that we may be who we truly are - and not what we have otherwise become.

"Jump. I won't let you sink."

Those words weren't just words...... I had no idea this opener would haunt me 40 years later.

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Ride HARD!