*back*

Here we go again. I think I should start keeping track of how many times I've stopped and restarted this blog, but thanks to Gunter I remembered that I've always liked Blogger better than Facebook or Myspace. I kind of hate both of those websites (even though I use them pretty frequently).

Here's something for you: a piece of my most recent paper, "Boxing with the Awesomeness"

I’ve chosen a particularly special night to visit this fairly eclectic bar; only a week earlier, a woman died suddenly, and in her honor, several of her friends’ bands put together a memorial show. The cover charge would go toward the funeral expenses. The woman taking money at the door is swaying slightly as I approach her, ID in hand. Once approved for entry, she pulls out a bright blue wristband, designed specifically for the Box Awesome. As I walk toward the bar, I examine the lettering in the dim light. “Box Awesome because someday you will lose your hearing anyway.” Smiling to myself, I take up a post at the end of the bar and order a drink.
Brenton and Allison are sitting casually at the bar while the last band sets up their equipment. Allison, a former employee, is enjoying a local brew while Brenton, a soundman and occasional bartender, peruses a magazine. His intent stare is only interrupted by an occasional flip of a page. Suddenly, he turns to me.
“Those are the new speakers we’re buying. It’s the same system the Qwest Center has, only they have, like, thirty of these things,” Brenton says, pointing to a picture of a speaker that, to a sound system illiterate person like myself, seems altogether unremarkable.
“I’m so stoked, dude. They’re going to be here this week.” I can see Allison glancing over at him, obviously bemused by his excitement. As I hand over a five dollar bill to the bartender, Allison begins reminiscing.
“Do you remember the night when that shelf broke?” she asks Brenton, tapping him on the shoulder while simultaneously indicating the glass shelf above the cash register where a variety of colorful liquor was lined up in a jagged row. Brenton didn’t even look up before replying with an emphatic, “Yeah!” Turning to me, he fills me in, “The shelf broke one night, and all that booze nearly crashed on Allison. It was fucking scary.”
“Yeah, I guess I could’ve died,” she recalls, taking a sip of her beer. The idea of death seemed slightly irreverent suddenly, and we all returned to sitting silently. Soon, this silence was interrupted by the loud squeal of an electric guitar. Brenton glances over at the stage where a band is setting up.
“I’ve only cried twice while I was working sound here,” Brenton explains, leaning close to me to share his story, “Tonight, during that one song…uh, Sunshine. I think everyone was crying, during that one. Everybody loved Amy.” When asked about the other time, he grins and shrugs.
“Back in November, this band did a show here, and at the end, the bass player proposed to his girlfriend. They played this song and showed a video. Yeah, I was tearing up a little.”
“Oh, I remember that night,” Allison adds, “they played with this crazy Irish punk band.” As the band begins to play again, Brenton puts down the magazine and gets up.
“If you want, I can show you the sound booth,” he offers, downing the rest of his drink before turning to go. I follow him through the array of show-goers away from the hanging lights above the bar into the darkness around the stage. People barely notice us as we head toward the sound booth. The structure is several feet above everyone’s heads, and a short ladder has been set up against the side. As Brenton crawls up to the little booth, I follow, glancing out over the crowd. The whole stage is glowing red as the band begins to play.
When I reach the top, Brenton begins explaining the sound board in hushed tones. I’m not a technically minded person, so most of the information is over my head, but as he speaks, he also plays with the knobs and fiddles with the volume. To the left of the sound board is another strange device that controls the light system. After a quick tutorial, he lets me take the reins. Each slider and button controls a different set of lights, and soon I’m leading a light show while a rock band plays to the memory of someone I’ll never know.