I think one of the coolest things I have ever heard was when Hoagy Carmichael called up Keith Richards and told him that the way he sings "The Nearness of You" was the exact way he pictured it being sung when he wrote the song. Here it was two men from totally different time periods, totally different genres and two totally different personalities coming together in an understanding about the way music was meant to be made. If you don't much about the man then just take a look at Hoagy Carmichael's page. He was not only the writer of such epic songs as "Stardust" (which is the most covered song in history) but also "Heart and Soul" and "Georgia on My Mind". In addition, his likeness was what Ian Flemming used to describe his young secret agent, James Bond.
Tonight though the reason why I started with "The Nearness of You" was I was jonesing for some Keith and also in a pretty sad mood. Sentimental, feeling sorry for myself after an emotional day just wondering what the hell was going on in my current state; a state of waking up at eleven and doing a lot while still doing nothing all day. With that and maybe a product of it in and of itself, trying to snag someone who....
Well I'll just tell you the story. I was at a restaurant a few months back and couldn't take my eyes of this woman. Truly couldn't even act normal around her because of the vibe that she was giving me, I stared with longing and fear of what she was bringing out of me. She was with a man and I just left with the gentleman I was dining with and tried to put it out of my mind. When I returned to the restaurant I found that she had left her number for me. I called her and we planned to get together. On that day we were to meet, someone from my past who had found out about the situation the day prior as well as her number called her and scared her off with me knowing no idea of what she said to her about our past relationship and how she twisted it to meet her needs and spite. I tried to patch the situation to no avail. But I called again months later and she never called back. More months transpired and with the reliability of cell phones mine broke and her number was lost in the process.
Then a week ago I thought of her again, requested some old phone bills and set to the task of finding her number to call her again, frantically looking up area codes and calling similar ones to try to track her down and hoping she'd take a chance. Tonight I finally did and she actually answered, she had no idea who it was and her end was loud, horns and traffic in the background, we couldn't hear each other and she said she'd call back. She never did. Of course she determined after the fact that it was me and acted as she saw fit. So with that I headed to the gym and blocked her (again) from my mind. A few martinis after the fact I couldn't ask my brain to be up to said task, couldn't tell the man I was drinking with and simply came home and threw on Keith crooning "Nearness".
While listening to it I thought about Hoagy and the story I heard which I began this post with, and then I remembered "Lazybones". I remembered it because I had a show of the Jerry Garcia Band which was the most perfect version, the most perfect song in so many ways I have ever heard. And I looked back at the last time I had that show in my possession and utilized it accordingly.
My first junior year of college, living in an apartment after the hockey season was over and my days consisted of drinking, drinking, working out and more drinking. Boston may have some of the most terrible weather on the planet but in the spring there are a few weeks before it becomes too humid to walk where it is perfect. I skated, hit the weights on campus and walked out in Rainbow sandals, t-shirt and loose jeans feeling exhausted, strolled back to my apartment and grabbed an ice cold beer out of the cooler that I always had in my room which is far superior to any fridge, there's something about pulling a glass bottle out of 32.1 degree water. With the windows open, the sparrows chirping, I pressed play on my Aiwa and the slow meter of this song came spilling out through the speakers strategically placed around the apartment.
I fell into that pre-sleep haze that can only be experienced laying on the couch with the spring air perambulating and wafting through four walls, the streaks of the sun warming my bare legs while the bottle cooled my hand that was not down my pants. The pre-sleep environment, the selective hearing of highs, the full octave difference in Jerry's Guitar hitting me as he played to the twenty fourth fret and further on...his liquid chromatic scale solos dribbling in and out of the light and finding their way into my ears.
I never did find that bootleg show, and like the woman I called tonight maybe it is better to not ruin the moment and think about what could be if you had it/her in your possession. Nonetheless I still wish I had that show and those notes pouring out of my speakers while I laid on the couch with her on my chest in the beautiful spring sunshine.
