As sad as it is to admit, some days I feel two or three times my age. That's pretty rough to say when you're only in your thirties, but with all the things I've had to do to make sure I hit each and every month's deadlines at work, I sometimes feel like I never shut off. I always seem to be worried about the things I have to deal with in the morning and trying to keep up with the next day's new batch of craziness.
When I first started working I never took much time off. I didn't see the point to it. If I had time off all I did was hang out at my parent’s house and that just didn't appeal to me on many levels as a twenty-year-old. But as the years wore on, over fifteen of them, time off became such a valued and needed concept that I couldn't seem to get enough.
After hitting a really rough deadline one day, I was on my home when I decided that I needed a break from the routine. Driving down the same old street to go back to my same old apartment, I stopped off at a local coffeehouse for a breather. In what seemed like another lifetime (over a decade by my calculations), I had actually been in there once before and taken part in an open mic night. It was so long ago that I was almost positive I had hair, I thought, as I smiled to myself and ran my fingers across the shaven dome I sport these days.
As I walked into the coffeehouse there was a sign reading "OPEN MIC NIGHT TONIGHT! BRING AN INSTRUMENT, A SONG AND HAVE A LOT OF FUN!" Another smile crossed my face as I read the sign, amused that my return to this place mirrored the last time I had set foot inside, except now I was just a random audience member waiting to be entertained.
As I sat down with a cup of green tea, I turned my attention to the small stage at the front of the coffeehouse. It was set up with a small amplifier, microphone stand and a stool, it made for a cozy little concert for those of us in attendance. A hipster-looking host stepped up to the microphone to introduce the first act for the night. After thankyous to the audience and the coffeehouse for providing the location to play, he gestured to a young auburn-haired, slender woman sitting at the table near mine.
"Now, let me introduce you to a friend of mine who's graced us with her presence tonight. Melody, come and take a seat and show us what you can do!"
The audience clapped as she gracefully made her way to the stage. Strapping on her guitar and sitting down, Melody situated herself at the mic. With an easy smile and a very gentle voice, she said, "Hi, everyone. My name's Melody. Yes, my parents really did name me that. Some of you might think they named me perfectly and some might find it cruel irony tonight. Hopefully I leave you with more of the former than the latter."
There was a collective laugh from the audience as she settled in and started to strum her acoustic guitar. Melody's songs instantly took away all my worries from the day and made them take a seat on the curb outside. Her lyrics painted vibrant pictures in my mind's eye about a girl trying to find her identity, about loves found and lost. Her voice felt like it was wrapping me in a warm embrace and letting me relax for the first time in a long while. With her long, wavy auburn hair, her soothing voice, her fun and engaging manner in dealing with the audience, I was becoming a huge fan of Melody in a very short time.
As she thanked the audience for their applause after her third song of the night, she stepped off the makeshift stage to make her way once again back to the table near me. Various members of the audience came by to compliment her as she put her guitar back in its case. With each person, Melody was very personable with a smile that was so warm and welcoming you'd think that everyone she met was a lifelong friend she was just running into randomly throughout her life.
I decided to go with the flow of the evening and leaned over to Melody's table, "You have a really beautiful voice. You did a wonderful job up there."
Melody looked over and greeted me with that same, welcoming smile she gave everyone else that evening. "Oh, that's so sweet of you to say. Thank you!"
"No problem, just calling it like I see it, " I smiled. "You did ten times better than I did when I last had a go at an open mic here years back."
"You play too?"
"From time to time. I used to write songs back in my day, but lost a lot of passion for that when I kept overthinking things too much. Your songs are beautiful, they flow really well, almost like they relaxed me to the point where I was floating. And now that I just said that, I realize how truly lame that sounds out loud."
Melody giggled. "No, it didn't sound lame. That was actually a really nice compliment. I appreciate it. I always get excited to know that someone's listening to my lyrics and paying attention. What's your name?"
"I'm Smith," I said, holding out my hand.
"Smith? What's your first name?"
"That is my first name. My parents wanted to be different and now I get saddled with a sob story about how they did me wrong by naming me Smith. At least I don’t have the problem that the guy in Johnny Cash's ‘Boy Named Sue’ had."
"True," Melody smiled, shaking my hand, "but if I was you I'd still write a song about how your name is Smith anyway. You know, to get you back into songwriting again."
"You know, I never really thought about that as an option. And here I was so stuck on subjects like love and loss and, at the time, growing up and learning about who I was. Well, am. You know what I mean."
Melody smiled at me once again and all she kept doing was making my body weaker while making my heart skip a beat each time. "You know what I think? I think you need to share your talent with the room. You know, I showed you mine, now it's time for you to show us yours."
"I don't suppose you'd take the excuse of me not bringing a guitar to mean anything?"
Melody opened her guitar case and held out her acoustic to me. "Good thing I came prepared," she smiled once again. Great, more weak knees and my heart was racing but this time for anxiety of playing in front of people again for the first time in years.
Melody got up and approached the host of the open mic, pointing my way. He looked at me, a thirty-something stocky, bald man, and nodded. Melody sat back down at her table again and with a gleam in her eye said, "You're up next! I want to hear at least one of your originals. Do whatever you want with the other two songs, but I get one original song from Smith!"
Smiling weakly, the host approached the mic again, introducing me to the crowd. There was a small round of applause followed by Melody cheering me on loudly. I sat down on the stool and fumbled about, strumming a little bit to find my footing (or fingers as it were). I started off with a cover song from one of my favourite bands, Black Lab, that I was singing along with in the car before taking this random sidetrack for the evening. The song was ‘Time Ago’, a song about love and how it can sometimes tear people apart and leave you looking back on that love and how it's such a key moment of this crazy thing called life. It's a haunting song that I never can get enough of.
When I was finished, the audience actually applauded a bit more enthusiastically than when I had been introduced. I looked over to Melody and she sat with her hand resting on her fist, her eyes glued to the stage with a warm, interested expression. It definitely helped my mood, so I broke into ‘One’ by U2, a song I always loved to play at open mics. Thankfully I remembered all the lines and even managed to hit all the high notes in a way that didn't sound too forced to my ears. Again, there was enthusiastic applause.
Melody was still watching, her smile growing bigger as I looked at her. Then she pointed at me and mouthed, "NOW YOU!" I smiled, looking down at the guitar to avoid my whole head getting red in front of everyone. As I felt my face blush against my will, I just shook my head and said "too late" under my breath.
Strumming an E chord, I started through the intro to a song I wrote many years ago that I called ‘One Last Dance’. As I tried to remember the lyrics I stumbled a bit here and there, but managed to pull through. My whole goal was to get through to the chorus because I knew I could recite that in my sleep after all these years. Finally, after strumming the last chord, the audience applauded once again. I smiled and simply said, "Thank you so much!" and walked back into the crowd again.
Stepping up to Melody's table, I handed the guitar back to her and turned to sit back down at my table. "You realize," she said, stopping me in my tracks, "that after surviving my little trial by fire, you've more than deserved a seat at my table. I loved that last song. Very haunting and sad, but still very good. You have my complete attention."
With a sheepish grin, I sat down across from her and we started talking.
By the time we stopped to take a breath, I noticed that everyone working at the coffeehouse was trying to clean and lock up for the night. "Did we really talk the whole evening through?" I asked, looking around.
"Looks like it," Melody said. "We don't have to go home but we can't stay here, as the song goes."
Melody looked at me. "I've really liked this and I'm not sure I want to say goodnight right away."
My whole body was swimming with a happiness inside that I couldn't help but smile from ear to ear when Melody admitted that feeling. I was right there with her.
"Well, you know what they say about all good things coming to an end and whatnot. But I'm right there with you, I'm enjoying this too much."
"Alright," Melody sighed, "I don't do this often. Actually I don't do this ever, but what would you think of coming back to my place for some coffee or tea and maybe some more song playing?"
My heart was beating so fast by this point that it wouldn't have surprised me if it just stopped right there. "If you're sure about it, I'd be happy to."
In a bit of a whirlwind, we left the coffeehouse and I followed her back to her house. Carrying the guitar for her, I walked inside to find the house was fairly cold. "I'm sorry," Melody began as she blushed slightly, "I forgot to warn you about that. I've been having some problems with my heating. Normally I'm used to just bundling up around here."
"No worries," I said as the chill made me shiver, but not so much that it ruined my excitement at the turn the night had taken. "It will just make us both have to play more guitar to keep our fingers warm."
Melody led me into her living room and to one side were multiple guitars, some acoustic, some electric. I was pretty impressed by her collection, seeing as how I only owned one guitar at a time. "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Cocoa?" she asked.
"You know what, I'm feeling that this is a cocoa kind of night now," I smiled.
Melody returned the smile as she walked to her kitchen. "You know, I think you're right! Feel free to pick a guitar and play a bit while I warm up the cocoa if you want."
I picked up an acoustic guitar and sat down on her couch and began strumming randomly. After a while, I started picking chords that turned into a progression without really thinking about it.
"Are you playing ‘With or Without You’?" I heard her ask from the kitchen.