I’ve spent 15 years wondering how to approach The Meantime Diaries. I’ve started and stopped various iterations. The timing feels right, now; maybe the end feels closer so it’s more appropriate.
I’m going to carve this space into three sections:
Me/Then – Responding to my old journal entries. I want to give Me the truth and support she needed back then. No false hope. Just honest responses.
Myself/Now – Vulnerability, shame, and lots of Brene Brown. I’m trying to rise strong and Brene writes that this is the part of the story most never let others see. Welcome to mine.
I/Horizon – I’m trying to envision a future that’s not based on the past. Mainly this will be reminders of where I want to convince myself that change is possible, even though I have no idea how to get there.
Dave was great. I spent most of the concert with my eyes closed. It hurt too much to try to peer at him through all of the couples in front of me. Every time I looked, I would ask myself why I was such a fuck up. I didn’t have an answer, so I just closed my eyes.
I could feel everything they played. I saw the stage lights behind my eyes. That was enough. The guy next to me asked me if I enjoyed myself, during the last song. I told him yes; I was just listening to Dave the way I do at home. He laughed and gave me a high five.
My love of DMB started in the mid-90s. I danced to Ants Marching in a skit for my high school’s Beta Club nominee for State Vice President. She was great, but didn’t win, unfortunately. Her name was Kristy Tart and so we dressed up like Pop Tarts wearing colored sandwich boards and matching shirts and leggings. It was great to be part of that.
I have a photo to prove this happened, but it’s at my dad’s house, aka the Island of things I’ll never see again. So you’ll have to take my word that the bit was funny, ingenious, and everything a Beta Club skit from 1996 should be.
I’ve only seen Dave Mathews in concert one other time, eight years ago. I’d waited almost 20 years to see them and, sadly, it was disappointing. In all fairness, that was my fault, not the band’s. They notoriously played less than popular songs and usually acoustic versions. Not a big sing-a-long group. I should’ve done my research. This time though, I was ready. I loved every minute. Expectations are everything.
…but I do enjoy a good surprise. They were winding down their set and then drum beat changed to a familiar tune. I didn’t want to believe it until the beat dropped.
They were closing with Ants Marching. I screamed – and finally stood up! I associate this song with dancing and so it just seemed right. It was a great night.