Highs, lows and February 2

status check - Tired-wired
background ambiance - Rilo Kiley, "Portions For Foxes"

I burst into tears on the highway yesterday afternoon.

It was my third consecutive day delving into the lives of those mourning loss or recovering from tragedy. I'd been able to keep myself composed throughout it all - allowing myself only carefully phrased words and compassionate expressions. I'm not supposed to show anything else, no matter how many people around me are crying, no matter what kinds of sobs I heard over the telephone.

Whoever says it gets easier with time and experience is either lying or trying to fool himself. It doesn't get easier - you just figure out what to say, what to avoid, and how to prepare yourself for what's about to come. It can't become easy to see or hear people cry.

So, as I drove back to town yesterday, I let myself release everything that had been pent up. I blared sad music and just sobbed myself silly. I cried with a mother, I cried with a grandchild, I cried with a wife. It was just after the fact.

I felt better at the time. And, when I got out of work early and received an invitation to partake in a random roadtrip, I thought I'd feel even better.

Johnoghue is preparing to embark on the Great Boston Relocation, so I was psyched when he suggested driving to Killington for Averi's set. I always enjoy our sporadic meet-up-and-hang-outs, and last night was likely to be the last opportunity before he moves. The call came just as I was putting on my coat to leave the office - he picked me up outside the building and we hit the road. As we passed through Middlebury, I laughed to myself, realizing the February 2 tradition had surely enough continued. I once again hadn't sought out an adventure - it found me.

I'm glad it did, although I'm feeling the sleep deprivation today. Worth it, I've been thinking to myself all day.

Let's face it, my Averi frustration/cynicism as of late has been glaringly apparent. I've been honest, I've been bitchy, I've been puzzled, I've been exasperated. And I've made the whole thing quite clear here.

That said, I had a great time at last night's show. The band played before a small crowd (Killington? Weeknight? Yeah.) but delivered a strong, energized performance. Several songs off the new album, a couple off "Direction of Motion."

The guys seemed in sync while all doing their own thing. I grinned as I watched each of them focus so intently on the moment ... Stu's face scrunching up during a guitar solo, Michael's grin as he beat the shit out of the tamborine, Chris rocking back and forth, Matt nodding his head during a particularly intense drum breakdown, Chad with his head down while on rhythm guitar (yes, guitar! Hurrah!) - and the sheepish smile during "Flutter."

I have no problem pointing out perceived flaws in a performance that doesn't thrill me, but it's hard to point out what works when the group is on. It's not that any of them did anything particularly out-of-the-ordinary compared to the other good shows I've attended. It was just that the band shone.

Michael Tolcher? It was ... the third time I'd seen him performing with someone else I'd wanted to see. I never mind his sets, but they don't move me. Too shiny happy person for my taste - although I always try to give him a chance, to see if it clicks with me. It just never does.

But it worked well enough for the evening - at that point, there had already been enough to make My Day '05 an unexpected success. An adventure with a friend, familiar faces, good music and the chance, after days of focusing on death and sadness, to just be happy.

Speaking of happiness...Boston this weekend.