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moonlight, reflections, & where we are.
it’s tuesday evening in late september, and I am
nothing short in reflection.
it’s tuesday evening, and my Jay and I are winding
down with the should-have dones in life—and writing
you has been high in our thoughts.
you see, it has been a busy month, with cramming work
hours and drives deep into the night and well into
morning and getaways to faraway places where the
people are less likely to run into you with every
passing minute and mile.
anyways, here we are.
we couldn’t resist telling you our thoughts and
recollections regarding one fine evening in septmeber,
when last we journeyed to meet you there.
further on from here is the original draft of our
encounter, with fresher words written since. enjoy.
Jay and me, we’re drinking coffee on a monday evening.
Jay and me, we had some long driving. and we’ve been
talking about you all, so you should probably worry.
your name might be mentioned, if your eyes were caught
in our gazes.
you might have seen us, Jay and I.
we were attired in our blackest finery. we looked
mighty fine. he’d take my hands and I traipse behind
him and we’d weave through the crowd of you along the
curb, near the stair, down the stair, towards the bar
and wares table.
you might have seen Jay—a slender fellow with shorn
blond hair, sharp jawline and cheekbones, intense blue
eyes and a clove cigarette comfortable in long
fingers. (I personally always like to notice the way
he moves through crowds and his straight posture as he
stops and talks and makes contact with the eyes. I
wouldn’t hold it against you much if you saw that too)
you might have seen me.
I was wearing my favourite dress (floor length and
black) and I put my hair up too (dark red) and was
darting my eyes north south, east, or west in search
of your face, wondering if I’d find you familiar,
wondering if words could make eyes, shake hands, or
say how do you do?
I see the moonlight gardens in evening prevailing
shades, deep greens and dusky blues. all stark
against the spiraling white railings and the white,
white lights.
“everything was very whitewashed,” says jay.
and he reminds me to tell you that it was a u-shaped
structure, with southern tones. I step in line of
those mentioning the stars. the coney island ferris
wheels and roller coaster tracks were silent of
screams and far enough away to add a magenta tone to
the blue pallete.
“it reminds me very much of the red house painters
self-titled album cover,” jay notes. “it is just
like it. and it sounds just like it too, when you
look at it in the night.”
Nikki was a good way through strumming her guitar,
when we arrived fashionably late.
this would be because we were working on murder all
afternoon…er, recording murder all afternoon.
put your fingers on it, baby.
(this is where I would slyly ask—put your fingers on
what, pray tell)
and jay will kindly ignore the question.
ahem.
“said ‘hi’ to dave wolfenberger, who is/was a big part
of the Marshwiggles/blue jordan records gang—he was
sitting in the entryway there,” jay notes.
“that was right when we walked in,” I agree.
“I was talking with somebody and chris emery hugged me
from behind,” jay continues. “I wouldn’t be ashamed
to mention,” his eyes grow sly, “that I adore Chris
emery’s hugs from behind.”
I wryly smile here.
you are such a wonderous, vibrant group of people…I
never feel quite prepared (no matter how much I
anticipate) for the hellos and hugs and introductions
on every side. and there are so many things to tell,
so many people to shorten miles and make real in the
photograph hallways in my mind. I sometimes find
myself folding up, drinking heavily of coffee and
inhaling deeply of clove and trying to find dark
stairwells to collect my thoughts and my person before
entering another crowd of strangers that might be my
friends.
so I apologise here.
I dearly wanted more faces to words and discover I
missed introduction with quite a few folks. Weston,
Debbie, I know you both were there and I kick myself
that no hellos were made. and then there were others
that I only got brief shakes (Lara, Laura, Jan…) and
then I would later start and think…hey, I remember
wasn’t that…?
and then there’s always the good folk that you’ve met
and danced and whirred around with before and I still
shortchanged ‘em too….sigh. Toastie, Jess, Boo,
Chris, Bruce, …
argh.
I cannot remember. I cannot remember. I am sure I
have forgotton some spiffy person I have corresponded
for months and months with and golly gee I can hear
them saying, “hey, don’t I mean anything to you at
all?!”
blushing
(weak grin)
but of course you do, darling…I’m naming my firstborn
after you, really…I swear…
oh boy, the consequences of that little statement.
yes. I am rambling.
hi. jay here.
it’s always truly a pleasure to meet passionate and
sincere folks. I cherish the hellos, the embraces and
conversations I shared on Saturday night, cherish the
steady eye contact and nods and brief “so how is this
or that going…” exchanges.
i don’t feel alone in your presence, never.
(“and do you need anything ironed?” Lindsey asks as
she retrieves the ironing board.
terrific woman. good to me.)
I always feel connection when I see Bruce again, or
when I finally meet those of you I’ve been conversing
with via keyboard. steady eyes and moving lips are so
much better than pixels or jetprint ink.
Lynzi and I both apologize to you kind folks that we
were a bit overwhelmed with all the scattered social
interaction, I had many brothers there that I go back
years with, Lynz had a troupe of fellow Grovers that
made an appearance…
although I have to drive back to Dee-troit shortly, I
wish to offer a few “thank you, you’re wonderful”
statements…
I was thrilled to see Scott and Stef make the
spontaneous trek to Cincinnati, even better to get
some good talk in with you two. I admire you both
tremendously, and thank you Stef for sharing the song
you did -–you and your guitar seated in the back of
your pseudo monster truck has left a certain
impression on me. because of yours and Scott’s fatigue
and daunting miles ahead, because you wanted to take
time out and share.
thank you.
Joshua and Zena: I appreciated the time with you two
tremendously. Lindsey and I have already shared back
and forth how we appreciate your air of cool meekness,
Josh, and how you have such a blunt intelligence of
observation, Zena. God bless you both.
chemist Sarah Sanzenbachenbrachenmacher, thank you for
good (albeit semi-brief)conversation with Lynz and
myself. and pleased to meet you, Lara Conrad.
it was a pleasure to meet you, Jan (and friend).
Wes, I sure wish I could’ve gotten some talkie in with
you.
there are those of you that I also missed out on some
time with…
andrew, dan, the Kent tribe, raven, jessyka and sleepy
chuck, andy sten, steve.
I finally got to meet Laura Hepker and Debbie
Flinchpaugh, many blessings to you two.
(“do you know how Rachel knows how I’m playing Over
the Rhine? she says ‘it’s the music that you always
play really loud’ ” Lindsey mentions as Latter Days
begins from her speakers… Good Dog Bad Dog really is
my favourite.)
I do sincerely hope this hasn’t read like the
following:
(start letter)
dear ________,
‘twas nice to
(a) meet you
(b) see you again.
you are even more impressive in person than in your
articulate and thought-provoking posts.
Lindsey and I have been remarking over our
(a) brief
(b) lengthy
exchanges with you and agree that you, yes you, are
special.
________, I admire you and look forward to the meeting
of you again in the apple orchard.
yours truly, edward jay and lynzi renee’.
(end letter)
yes, I do hope, sincerely.
tucked away with talk of our coming vacation and
duties, etc, we have shared in plenty of sweet
conversation regarding most of you as dearsweet folk
to us. strange what commonality is shared on this
discussion list… what ideas, concepts and reactions
are exchanged here. until I’d had opportunities to
share in real time with you, I’d always regarded
“internet friendships” as nothing more than contrived
and completely false.
even dangerous.
I admit that I have always been extremely cautious of
people and their motives – and I also say that I am
grateful for having stumbled onto Over the Rhine’s
mailing list after having been an admirer of that band
for many years.
this evening.
6:41 pm.
I am sitting by my baywindow, legs folding and
sprawling, knees exposed through very worn jeans.
I want to write you.
I have seen enough of you and read enough of you and
been close enough with you to know I have very dear
folk in front of me. I desire and feel it required
that I give you words. good words. words you nod to
and say yes to and say “mebbe that’s what I was
thinking all along, before that girl gave it shape in
words.”
mebbe I’m just being pretentious in hoping that. or
arrogant, or wistful.
I’ve said enough to know it can matter when I speak.
you’ve said enough to let me know this is true.
right now, I wish I could make some words, write some
words to each one of you that was there. the ones I
talked long with. the ones I talked brief with. the
ones I only said hello to or glanced at or mebbe knew
and didn’t see. even the ones that weren’t there.
I never have words enough to extend that.
and I am sitting in the bay window, biting my
fingernails at that inability and murmuring aloud of
that inability.
that inability, that fear even, to let you know that
you matter. that I want to see what you look like,
think like, feel like. and even the fear that I might
like you, love you, need you to be part of that
patchwork (half-hazard and crazy) that is my life in
embroidery.
I admit, I’m scared to begin that.
Edward is in my living room, smoking and reading and
waiting for me to surrender the keyboard and I’ll
admit to defeat in my treading water of words.
I’m almost ready to call him over.
I’m almost ready to say I’m done.
(raking hands through shaggy hair).
c’mon. don’t tell me words are useless or simple or
insubstantial. don’t tell me this doesn’t matter.
we all know it was words that drew us here, to over
the rhine and these exchanges here and words is why
you might even give two thoughts about me.
words are the only way we can be as easy as black and
white.
despite erasers, delete keys, white out. despite fade
and wrinkle and burn.
what am I saying here?
am I saying anything at all?
over-the-rhine.
they never fail to be bittersweet.
on one hand, I am swooning. I am dancing, inwardly,
and lipping every word in a slight breath.
on the other, I want to wave my arms and say, look.
here I am. talk to me. let me experience you. I
want to grab linford’s hand and say, “don’t just say
hello, look me in the eyes. we’ve talked before.
let’s talk about that river or that dance so
gracefully or the wonder of words…”
and I smile wryly.
tongue tied, with everything and nothing to say.
I was tongue tied, with everything and nothing to say,
when I finally met Mrs. Zena Neds-Fox.
this was easily, the highest and most intimidating
honour to me, as we used to correspond very freely and
I see much in her that makes her a value to know. I
have never known an eye contact so direct that made me
sheepish for folly and for my silliness and made me
want to say, “okay, okay. I’ll be real, I
promise…it’s just that the costume and theatrics were
such fun.”
I admire she and josh very much.
I can’t express that enough.
I don’t think they’ll ever really know that I feel
changed by brief moments that night, especially as
they have unsubscribed to this digest.
okay, now where is edward?
where is my lover?
I want to hide now.
yikes.
jay here. it’s Tuesday evening and I am experiencing
my final hours of rest before entering once more into
the meat grinder of Detroit. and yes, I’m choosing
some of this precious time to finish writing you
folks.
Lindsey and I have experienced many wonderful things
over the past week, we just got back from the Outer
Banks of North Carolina the other night. I hope to
share a few stories here and there about it in the
future…
I do have to say one thing: I am more than a little
disappointed at much of the talk since we’ve been
gone. I’d thought more of some of you, I had hoped
that…. I had hoped the conversation would be more than
only a very few glimmers of inspiration I’d read
today. I’d gotten nauseated a few times and had to
stop reading the intended offensives. to be so bent on
offending others, to waste so much time in the tearing
down of others, even those we admire (example: Linford
Detweiler. would you be on the list to begin with were
it not for this man?), rather than building up or
encouraging…
dammit people. what’s the matter with you? you know
who you are.
the last thing I want to do with my last day of
vacation is sit down and read through miles of tripe
and insult and stupid one-line commentary that means
nothing. nothing at all.
I take humour quite well, thank you, so don’t tell me
“aw c’mon, can’t you take a friggin joke?!”
I’m disgusted today. truly. I know also that the
solution is not to unsub like many have already done
for similar reasons….
so what? do I continue deleting more than I read? do I
just – should I unsub after all?
I know I’d miss some great talk with some dear people…
many of you my friends.
I have no use for people that are quicker to tear down
than build up.
it’s one of my guiding principles.
for those who have been generously keeping tabs on me
and my job search, I have a little news.
I currently have two offices – one at my company and
one at a sister company’s an hour away. their designer
left them a few weeks ago. this other company is vying
to pull me over there full time.
also, I had coffee with one the corporate higher-ups
just before vacation. he informed me that a third
sister company wants me up there for themselves, two
and one half hours north of Detroit. this latter
opportunity is most desirable to me – it’s a healthy
company, excellent people that I share mutual
admiration with, and it’s in a tiny town with one
street light. oh, and it’s also the cheese capital of
Michigan.
so, that’s all from me. I don’t know yet when I’ll be
able to speak further, many variables.
but life is good. and God is good, gracious.
good night from Edward Jay.
and good night as well from lindsey renee’.
God give you peace.
__________________________________________________
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