Ray LaMontagne 12/1/12
Listening
When I quiet the voices of the “shoulds” in my life, I become as open as a highway at midnight to the possibilities of my day. I was still swimming in the joy of seeing one of my favorite musical artists. I could feel the pull of the energy of the night before. Something in my heart kept calling, he is STILL in town. As I acknowledged that thought, I quieted it with “seriously Eileen, you met him, what more could you want”? MORE was the answer that returned.
I looked at the StubHub site. The prices I saw for the second sold out show at the Chicago Theatre were very attractive. I dared to peak at the pit section and found one lonely ticket for the front row. What are the chances? Now what do I do? When met with a decision like this, I think if that opportunity vanishes in ten minutes how will you feel? My answer waits like a dear friend. I was going!
I scrambled to pick up my ticket that I thought was awaiting me at the box office, but wasn’t. Angels were everywhere in that situation. StubHub calling me to pick up the ticket, a sweet cabbie named Nicole who took me to the location a couple miles away, waited and brought me back a quicker route to make it to the concert with fifteen minutes to spare.
As I took my seat, I turned to the gentleman on my left to introduce myself. It turns out I spoke with him the night before as we were exiting the theatre. He offered me information about a version of a song Ray had played on Friday night. Now he was sitting next to me on Saturday in the front row! How serendipitous that we would end up beside each other, when the venue holds 3600 people.
I sat looking up at the stage, seeing the richness of the grain in the door panels I spotted the night before. Now I could see they had no doorknobs. From here I could see the “x” where Ray would be in front of the mike and how weathered the bass was as it stood proudly in its stand. I wondered how old it could be. I saw Ray’s cowboy hat hanging on the coat tree. Over and over I thought of how few times I have had front row tickets. Each time there seemed to be a miraculous happenstance that landed me there. Again and again my heart sang the words thank you. A wise woman, Deb Cooperman says when practicing gratitude to say “thank you/more please”. I may not have said those words out loud yesterday, but my heart must have somehow heard that message.
As Ray walked on stage every fiber of my being was filled with a sense of wonder. I looked at his clothes and questioned where did he find those jeans straight from the 70’s? The extra panel made of a different material sewn below his calf creating a bigger bell bottom which cascaded over his clean brown shoes. The jeans had a gentle fray at the back, the kind that says these are my favorite. His layered woven and jean shirts made me think it was going to be a very warm for him under the stage lights. The hair on his head looked as abundant as that on his face. Fans old and new greeted him with a welcoming applause, for which he shyly replied, “thank you”.
He rolled into a nearly identical set list as the night before. I know that because my friend my left Alejandro, has a better memory than I do. He smiled at my excitement as each song began and I knew instantly the title as if I was playing “Name That Tune” in my head. He quietly sang the lyrics as I did to our favorite tunes. Between songs the stage fades to darkness as Ray and his bassist Zachariah chat about which song is to be played next or to count out a beat.
Being twelve feet away I could see the sweat beginning to gently pepper Rays face. At times I wasn’t quite sure if he was tearing up during a tune or a well-placed drop of heat just happened to roll down his cheek creating that illusion. It wasn’t a Whitney Houston type of downpour but a result of our warm December temperatures. He had a towel back where he kept his water on a little table. Not sure anyone besides the front rows would have even noticed.
He spoke even less than he did at Friday night’s concert. With fewer words on stage we were afforded one more song, “All the Wild Horses” was the noticeable addition to the play list. Unlike other performers, he never asks for the house lights to be turned on to see the crowd. He doesn’t try to woo his fans. He stands there and works his magic which seems to be enough for everyone.
From my seats in the second balcony on Friday, Rays shadow cast down on the stage creating an illusion that appeared to double the amount performers alongside him. From that vantage point I admired the Bassist and how he played that instrument like he was dancing with a friend. Rays musical guest, singer songwriter Lisa Hannigan captivated me with her intense talent, I accepted her I like she was a long lost cousin from Ireland.
Saturday night in the front row looking up at Ray from this seat, I saw this beautiful soul I could hardly keep my eyes off of all night.
As the concert closed, I hoped my camera would deliver me a picture or two to capture this moment that my heart would forever hold. I honor who I am to my core when I chase these moments as if the chance may never come again.