I knew the night would be special when I pulled up to the club and the High Street arches were illuminated. For several years, we had waited for them to light up. Now that I had the cruel news from the landlord’s attorney that we either accept a 40 percent rent increase in ten days or be ready to vacate the premises, it seemed ironic. After 10 years of bringing hundreds of musicians from all over the world and thousands of music fans from all over the region to the beleaguered portion of the neighborhood, I was going to miss out on its best-lit nights.
Irony was to be the night’s theme, as Chris Smither, the noted songwriter and road warrior, was playing. He and I discussed sobriety, the program of Alcoholics Anonymous and the fact that neither of us could completely accept a “higher power” a.k.a. God. He told me what a friend told him. I don’t recall his words exactly, but this is the gist:
A normally intelligent man is told the following:
1. Yogurt makes you invisible.
2. Your wife is cheating on you.
3. There exists an omnipotent being who brought the entire universe to life and holds sway over our destiny.
That seemingly intelligent guy then asks for proof of the first two things.
Yet Chris has lived the last 24 years without the assistance of drugs and alcohol, often on the road, playing places like mine.
The title cut of Smither’s new album was called “Leave the Light On (I’ll Be Home Soon).” He played it last, as he started his encore. I went outside to admire the fabulous lights of the Short North. On all of High Street, only one arch was not lit – the one that sat directly in front of our door.
I went back inside. Smither had just finished.I told him about the lights.
“I think this is God’s way of saying she doesn’t exist,” I said.
Keep ‘em coming. If you air out your memories they won’t gather dust as much and will play “nice” with other recollections even if those memories are from the other side of the tracks.