Museday Mumblings (Vol. 75): TALK TO PEOPLE
So I lost an ex-bandmate and sort-of-friend back in August, and I had no idea he passed.
I knew he had ALS and had returned to Austin from Georgia, where he’d moved in the late 2010s, to be closer to people who could manage his care.
But I hadn’t really interacted with him much since his diagnosis – we were always more like friendly acquaintances, and hadn’t really talked since he moved to Georgia other than a few comment threads on Facebook. I was worried about him, and thought about him often, wishing him well (which is my secular form of praying), but I hadn’t reached out. Once the pandemic hit (a few months after he came back), I wasn’t really seeing anyone, and got completely out of the habit of hanging out. So even though he was just a few miles away here on the southern edge of Austin, I didn’t make time to go see him. I now regret that, but I also look back on the times we had when we were closer to each other’s orbit. They were…interesting.
Like when he joined our band Roman Holiday, and even though we initially had a great time talking to him and hanging out – with lots in common, including sharing the Pennsylvania connection – he proceeded to make it very difficult for Ned and I to enjoy the band experience. An excerpt from an old unpublished blog:
We hired one of them (a bassist-keyboardist), the one we liked the most personally. I moved over to guitar and lead vocals. He started learning the tunes, but ignored us when we said, “focus on bass, then come up with keyboard parts for the songs that need them.” Because of this, he hadn’t learned our whole set in time for our next show, three weeks later. I suppose we’re spoiled, because I learn songs very quickly (and so did the drummer we had at the time), but the next show we played he played just two sets (I played bass on the last one). We didn’t mind much at the time, but pressed on. All the while, he was bitching about learning songs, and procrastinating on the ones he didn’t like, in a passive-aggressive way trying to force us to tailor the set to him, which didn’t work because I already knew everything on bass, so anything he didn’t learn, I’d play. We had already done a successful gig as a three-piece in the interim, so we knew it was possible. Right around this time, the drummer got a new job and had to quit, effective within a month.
The bitching from the new guy continued. Finally, we got tired of it and fired him before the auditions – no sense introducing a new drummer to a band that was in turmoil. We decided to continue as a trio, so long as we could find a good drummer.
So, needless to say, it was a rough go, at least for the early part of the relationship. Ned played bad cop in that scenario (and as a result, he thought Ned was a dick), but truth be told he was pissing us both off and had to leave. So much potential there, but it just didn’t work out. Despite this, he and I remained friendly and would talk often about putting together a band more like the band he wanted Roman Holiday to be. Ironically, with the next drummer we found for Roman Holiday (Rob), we pushed the band in basically the direction that would have pleased the fired guy had he just followed instructions and been patient. We got along great for years, but we never ended up playing together again – it was never the right time.
Bringing up the uglier stuff may seem sort of harsh, but I’m not a fan of the whole “don’t speak ill of the dead” bullshit because I think knowing and remembering the complete person honors who they were more completely than sugar-coating it. And I’m very sad that I didn’t get a chance to play more music, spend more time, or to even talk to him again (even if his responses would have been a computer voice).
ALS fucking sucks, but at least he’s free from the prison that was that cruel, cruel existence.
Rest in peace, Luis. I hope wherever you are has Starions and Motorcycles for you to drive uncomfortably fast, and all the basses and synths you can get your hands on.
The moral of the story: Social media connections aren’t really real. If they matter to you, get their number. Text them. Call Them. Hang out. Don’t just watch them through the window and see how their life is progressing. Be PRESENT in it. Share love.
Peace be the journey!
TMS