And These Crimes Between Us Grow Deeper

Last night I was twenty-one again.

I haven't seen the Dave Matthews Band play live in seven years. I haven't wanted to. I felt like I left that part of me behind a long ways ago.

You have to understand, if I was writing this blog when I was in college, it would've been named Under the Table or The Best of What's Around or something lame like that. In other words, I was WAY into the DMB back then. But people change, and times change, and music changes.

So I haven't seen a DMB concert since the summer of 1997, the very week that I met my ex-wife. I remember driving down to Atlanta from Knoxville with Ben and Lee, and Lee's friend. I remember being awful to Lee's friend that night, bless her heart. I was such a jerk... completely smitten by my soon to be ex-wife. Ah, the capriciousness (and fuckin' stupidity) of youth. C'est la vie.

Anyway, I'm at the concert, and bloody drunk, and remembering all of this. I'm remembering how the sky went PURPLE at that show in Atlanta. No, I wasn't messed up... it went goddamn PURPLE. And there was all this heat lightning that night. It was surreal.

Anyway, so I'm there, and I'm remembering all of this, and I'm feeling like I'm 21 again. That's how old I was last time I saw Dave. It's a strange experience, being 21 when you're 28. It's quite a lot like being drunk, actually. But Dave made it happen. You can't just get drunk and hope to regain seven years, no no no. That way leads to alcoholism and funny jackets with arms that tie in the back. (Cue Mary by the V-Roys.)

No, you have to let yourself go, be carried back by memories that are real only to you. Something integral to your past. Something important, so important, only to you, that you forget yourself for a little while. And some seriously expensive cheap beer. Don't forget that. Shaken, not stirred.

Anyway, the show was amazing. All the time up to the show I was expecting to be seriously disappointed. I was scared to death it would suck, but he played acoustic the entire show, thank GOD. I was afraid he'd drag out some sorry electric guitar and play it like Glen Fucking Ballard taught him, but no. He was same old Dave. Even the new songs sounded great, just like it was the old Dave band playing them. I think it's pretty obvious there's "studio/on-the-record" Dave, and then there's the "real/live-experience" Dave. I'm all about the latter. It was nice to relive some old memories.

(I can't be twenty-eight and nostalgic already, can I? Good Lord, help me! Oh wait, that's right! I'm a hopeless romantic! I can use that as my excuse. Whew!)

Anyway, way too much beer, dancing with girls I don't know (beer-goggles are wonderful things), and making an utter ass of myself -- check, check, and check. And looking at all the amazing young women out there, making me feel really old. CHECK and MATE. Damn.

Anyway, so much more to say about this... but not here. There was a lot going on in my drunken head last night. That must be why it hurt so bad this morning. Heh!