I wish I lived in a big room, with a bed, maybe a desk, and padding everywhere; in a Minneapolis warehouse district loft.
I wish there was a drum set in the corner, with a mix of stringed instruments and an old standup piano.
I wish there were mics and cables stringing the floors.
I see Emy casually laying on her blankets, an aged female. I've got leather slippers on that are being tattered from years of wear. There are stacks of large pots from the days of college when I used to produce. On the walls opposing the large glass paned windows are paintings from close friends, and images from all over the world portraying a variety of passions and beauties.
I enter the kitchen, smelling of fresh coffee. In this kitchen is stainless counters on three sides and an industrial style kitchen sink. There is a large wooden table in the middle with a large fruit bowl; pots, pans, and appliances underneath. I go to the energy efficient fridge and take out a bagel, bour sin, smoked salmon and capers, with a perrier and orange juice. chow chow chow.
I grab a wooden sherlock and walk past the living room; with an aged black leather couch with brass rivets and a dark coffee table on a tan patterned rug and head to the balcony to appreciate the trees with their newly formed blossoms. With the flick of a match, snap, crackle, puff.
I hear the ring of a buzzer and I go to open the door. In walks the most beautiful woman of my life. Emy rises to her feet to greet this woman. I give her a hug and kiss and welcome her in. She helps herself into the kitchen and fixes some tea with milk and honey. She grabs her favorite mug and takes a seat on the sofa. After I put on a record, I sit next to her and she cuddles under my arm; with a warm crackle our favorite album begins to play, whispering sweet sweet nothings.
In a moments appreciation, I feel like I'm in heaven. Until the effects of the pipe fast forwarded my morning breakfast and I need to excuse myself. Opening the door with the glass doorknob, I turn on the bright lights and sit on the brown throne. I stare at the opposing wall, a mosaic of colorful tiles. As I get up, I see a spider struggling to climb the walls of the victorian bathtub. I put him in a paper cup and take him out to the balcony, passing a witty comment coming from the girlfriend. [you tree hugger]
I ask her if she wants more tea; she says no. I ask her if she wants to dance; she says yes. As we sway and turn I tell her 'I'm glad I can be me around you. Thank you.' She kisses me on the cheek and says 'you are lucky I'm me.'
With another buzz, I feel rudely interrupted. I go to the door to see who it is. I shout out, look who it is! My two closest friends walk up and we all greet each other with brotherly love. My one friend says 'I brought over a new mic for you to test out.' He pulls out his macbook and hooks it up to my interface, and my other friend goes over and pulls out our favorite Strat, the kind of one that we could do our best to imitate the great Jimi Hendrix. Andrew pulls out the mic and sets it up for Love to sing into. With a soft whine, the tube amp is warmed up, and Max begins fingering his way around the fretboard. I say quit molesting my guitar, lets tone it down to the acoustic bells days. I pick up the inherited Martin and with layers and parts we begin to create sweet sweet nothings.
Andrew gets up and heads to the kitchen and shouts across, anybody want a sandwich? Hamburgers and ketchup? Emy is second into the kitchen, then Max heads over and pulls out an avocado and the two begin to create a luncheon feast. Emy just stares upward... 'Whats the Krew is up to? I get a reply of something like, 'kids, wife, job' that sort of response. Then a question; when are you two going to get married? She rolls her eyes and I say 'when Jesus returns on a cloud of fire... Ouch!' She walks over to Andrew and puts her arm around him and proposes to him. He says yes... What the f man?
Max proposes that we take the sandwiches on a picnic. We all say yes without any bitterness to that proposal and throw the sandwiches in my large chrome messenger. I grab my Leica as Max asks if we can take the a couple of Surly Furious tall boys. Love calls shotgun, Andrew shouts you gotta see the car! Max runs takes the keys and jumps into the front seat with Emy walking all on his crotch to climb into the back. With a bit of bicker about the shot gun rules, I shrug and say someones gotta DJ. With a few revs we are in 5th gear off to Lake Calhoun.
Max puts on something perfect for the occasion and I ask Andrew to roll me a cigarette. Love gives me a look so I tell him not to worry about it. With a screech of rubber, the shift of the gear into reverse, and the pull of the E-brake, we have arrived!
With a sound of opening velcro, papers bags, and can tops, we chat and laugh as we eat. We throw the frisbee on the grass for a bit with Emy running circles around the disc. I take a few pictures of us enjoying our afternoon, the near naked tree branches and the lake that is starting to change color to the liking of the sky. We watch the sun set and a million colors fill the sky around the Minneapolis skyline. He tries to cuddle close to my love and I shove him away, telling him to get a date. He replies, I'm the one with a ring on my finger!
We all jump back into the car, drop the top down and drive through Lyndale. We drive past the buzzing night life with their bourgeois get ups. Past cafes and Vietnamese restaurants, smoke shops and record stores. We pass the Walker Art center and Loring Park, and head into downtown heading back home on the local roads. We detour a bit and park near the Stone Arch Bridge. I comment, wishing we would have brought our acoustic guitars, like we did when we played in downtown Wayzata.
I sit on the ledge, and she leans into me. Max asks if he can play with my camera and uses Neumiller and Emy as his models. Full of swag and confidence. The air is cool and calm now. The sound of water underneath us all is soothing and humbling. The stars are sparkling in the clear, dark blue sky. The lights glimmer on the river downstream and everything feels like a Van Gogh painting.
We call it a night, Andrew and Max get in their cars, and Love comes back in. We pop pop pop some corn and put on a flick. She falls asleep, instead of me for once, and I tell her to go lay in my bed. Emy goes in with her and lies on her blankets. I make a bed for myself on the couch and put on our favorite record, and fall asleep to sweet sweet nothings.
Someday.
