After I had written the major epic I'd sent to friends and family, I wanted to write something for JourneyDigest.com that covered the same ground, but in a more reflective state focusing on the feelings of a particularly memorable summer. I started a draft in early September with the intent of fleshing it out over the next week or so. I got busy and didn't work on it as I had intended and before I had a chance to get back to it the tragedies of September 11, 2001 occurred, bringing a crushing end to what had been a very joyful and wonderful summer. While pulling together the other material for this blog archive, I stumbled on that early draft and decided to include it in the archive. The thoughts in the first and last paragraphs were the seeds that prompted this piece.
As I pull out of my driveway on my way to work, I notice a group of children with forlorn faces waiting for the bus to take them to the first day of school. I continue on my way, and as I hit the freeway, I notice that the sun is hanging a bit lower in the sky over San Francisco Bay. I sigh as I realize summer is coming to an end. I haven't been this sad to see the summer pass since I was one of the forlorn faces waiting for the school bus.
As an adult, summers come and go with little notice, the days are longer, warmer, but that doesn't change the day in, day out routine. You take a week, maybe two, and go to the beach or the mountains or to visit family.This summer, well, this summer was different. Odd to think it all began back in December.
It was in early December when my mother told me that the sale of her father's house had been finalized, and that she would be giving my brother and I part of her share.This unexpected windfall meant that more of my savings than usual would be available for my summer vacation. I returned to work and told my supervisor my tentative plans for vacation for 2001, which included two weeks for the anticipated Arrival tour -- the first week and the California swing.My best guess for the dates was late May/early June and mid-August. Fortunately, I didn't need to be more specific than that at the time.
March rolled around, and the tour dates were announced. Now I knew when and where I would be spending my vacation. I told my parents my plans over St. Patrick's Day dinner, and my father was incredulous. "Texas? In June? For a week? Are they that good?" I laughed and assured him that I had not lost my mind. Texas certainly wasn't my ideal choice for my summer vacation, but then no one asked me!
And so, I began planning. Checking the dates and locations of the shows, when the tickets would go on sale, and mapping out my route. I'd start in Las Vegas, then Albuquerque, El Paso, Dallas, San Antonio, and Houston. A Phoenix date was added later, but I decided to by pass that show and spend extra time in New Mexico. While I was working on these plans, a friend from high school emailed me inviting me to visit her this summer in West Virginia. I hadn't seen her since her wedding six months earlier, but told her that I couldn't because of my plans to "go on tour." After several emails back and forth, I finally gave in when she sent "Journey is playing in Pittsburgh on July 14. We could go." Feeling guilty that I had to be bribed to visit, I added a weekend in West Virginia to my plans.
June arrived sooner than expected, and I was on my way. Loaded down with a suitcase, my laptop computer, and the all important cell phone, I boarded the plane to Las Vegas. This was the show I was most looking forward to -- the very first night. Yes, it wasn't the "real" show -- that would come later in Albuquerque -- but it was the first Journey show since Arrival had been released in the US. As eager as I was to hear the new tunes live, I was also excited about seeing the many friends I knew were coming to this show. When Journey went back on the road in 1998, at long last, I began meeting people from across the country who shared my love for this music. Now, three years later, to go to a show and not meet someone I know (or have communicated with on-line) is unusual. Las Vegas was going to be the biggest group of friends I would see until the California shows in August, so I knew it would be a fantastic time.
{{{Finish later}}}
... I get in my car and punch the CD button on my radio to change the tune. I smile as I am greeted by a loud drum beat coming through my speakers. I pull away and head for home to the sound of "We Will Meet Again."
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