Forgettable
Moments
It
was a forgettable moment like
a million other forgettable
moments that over the course
of a lifetime make up the balance
of our lives between the so-called
significant events. I was playing
a Saturday afternoon show outdoors
at an upscale bar overlooking
a river. He was one of twenty
bikers that came in en masse
halfway through the show in
full leather and a jacket patch
that proclaimed themselves the
'Nordic Lords.'
I
guess I noticed Him because
He reminded me of a former
bass player of mine. He had
a full mane of hair that blew
back behind Him on his entrance,
skull rings, tattoos and sunglasses.
He walked with the confidence
of a man who was clearly the
leader of the group.
They
sat at a table up front and
ordered a round of beverages.
I decided to try to include
them in the show. I made a
few jokes, mentioned the Nordic
Lords in a song, and pulled
out some of my "biker bar"
stories. Most of the group
smiled, acknowledged my efforts.
Not Him. He just sat their
straight faced, His dark sunglasses
pulled down tight. I dismissed
Him as some guy who simply
thought He was a badass. Whatever.
Another
forgettable moment a few weeks
later. I'm playing a small
biker bar doing a Thursday
happy hour show. Most of the
customers are local, strictly
blue collar. About halfway
through the show the Nordic
Lords rumble up to the club.
Again I notice His resemblance
to my old friend. He sits
at the other end of the bar
facing me, full leather, skull
rings and tattoos. This time
I don't engage them - I figure
I'll just leave them alone.
An
hour later and I'm on break.
I walk through the back of
the bar and He makes eye contact
with me. He's all smiles,
practically begging for my
conversation. "Hey! What are
you doing here!" He bellows,
reaching forward to shake
my hand as He grins. We talk
about the other club. I make
a comment about the weather.
He laughs and mentions that
they stop by this particular
bar all the time. I go back
to playing a short while later
and they leave a little early
to finish their ride before
dark.
The
next day I call a friend of
mine who rides a Harley to
joke about bikers. "Hey,"
I tell him. "Like all you
bikers - the guy wants everyone
to think He's a badass, but
He's a good person underneath."
Still
another utterly forgettable
moment the following week.
I'm back at the same bar,
same Thursday happy hour show.
Late in the set one member
of the Nordic Lords comes
in - a different one. I've
seen him before. He sits right
in front of me at the bar
with his lady and just hangs
out. With about twenty minutes
left in my show he requests
a couple of songs. I make
conversation because it's
slow and I'm bored.
"Yeah,"
he says after a few pleasantries,
"We had to bury our president
today." I give him a look
that lets him know I don't
understand what he's saying.
"Of the Nordic Lords," he
says. "You met him - big guy
with the tattoos and the hair."
It
was Him that they buried.
The badass. Apparently while
riding one evening a few days
after I saw Him a car cut
him off on the highway. He
gestured to the driver to
stay in his own lane. The
driver responded by turning
into the bike and running
Him into the guardrail. Murdered
Him, plain and simple.
Then
I remembered something insignificant
from two days before. It was
Tuesday evening, warm, and
I happened to pass a funeral
home. The parking lot was
jammed with cars and on the
lawn were probably a hundred
motorcycles. I remember figuring
that a biker must have gotten
killed. The scene struck me
- the fall sunlight streaming
down through the just changing
leaves on the trees, the reflection
and the shadows on the bikes
all lined up in an impossible
long row next to the road.
People dressed up, filing
into the funeral home. But
a few minutes later I was
further down the road and
that insignificant moment
had been filed away to be
forgotten like so many others.
And
yet here I am late on a Thursday
night, alone in the dark driving
home past the highway connector
where He had been killed reflecting
on these forgettable moments.
I see thousands of people
every year and have casual
conversations with hundreds
of them. I see familiar faces
all the time - people who
I never get to know, never
even catch their names. My
life is a million forgettable
moments that over the course
of a lifetime make up the
balance of my existence between
the so-called significant
events.
It's
just that sometimes those
forgettable moments surprise
you. Sometimes you never even
realize the significant moments
until they're gone.
Rest
in peace.
This
column © 2000 Lee Totten
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