Soundtrack to a City in Motion

I’ll always look back on that summer as the “Summer of Love” and not just because of what I experienced, either. It happened to everybody that year. It was an epidemic. And not just romantic love either. Even platonic bonds were gushing like never before. Love was being realized in ways none of us had really even considered possible prior. You could chalk it up to hormones, or puberty, but that only accounts for a small fraction of the whole town.

Even crotchety old widow, Ms. Bumstead had found it that summer. She had been notoriously the least pleasant person to bump into in town all through my childhood. The kind of old lady that the kids tell scary stories about and dare each other to pester and incur the wrath. She had woken up one morning that summer with a sudden urge to do something. Her version of the story, that she happily told thousands of times afterwards, is that she tore through her house looking for the source of her internal itch. Nothing scratched it until she went outside and had the epiphany that her home would be perfect with a garden. She became obsessed with gardening tools, supplies, and books. She began making daily trips to the general store and bumped into the always lovely, widowed librarian, Jan Silverstein. Shortly before they married, they opened a produce stand as a side project called Silverstead, instead of my proposed “Silverbum”, a fun side project that outgrew the town. It became one of the most successful markets in the county. They eventually moved to a larger property in the countryside to continue supplying the growing needs of their multiple market locations. That’s how most of the love that occurred that year seemed to go. It either outgrew the town, or they outgrew the love.

Even my parents seemed to fall back in love after years of their romance being all but completely dead. Hardly ever a kiss on the cheek or an “I love you” had been heard for most of my childhood. Then, out of nowhere, they were going on romantic getaways and having date nights. They seemed to have a hard time keeping away from each other. As a result, I was left to my own devices much more than ever before. If everyone else wasn't so caught up falling in love I probably would have gotten into a lot of trouble that year. I didn’t even ask for permission when my favorite band was touring nearby. That’s when I got infected.

One of my favorite bands was playing in a town only a few hours away. I knew quite a few people that were going, but I really only cared about her. Cindy was perfect. She had it all, witty and clever while also knowing how to get along with just about anyone. Best of all, she was stunning. She had a smile that brightened the darkest room and made you feel like you were safe. We knew each other through work, but she was a couple of years older and had just graduated high school. As soon as I knew she was going to the concert, my entire anticipated perception shifted. For the first time in my life, I was feeling what I have now realized to be a form of love, even that weak taste of it was so powerful, enough to blind me to most other things.

I had always cared about my appearance, but never before had I studied every minute detail of myself. I had spent far too long in my room planning what to wear to the concert. After shifting through nearly every single combination of top and bottom I owned, I finally settled on the first thing I had in mind. Somehow, it looked so much better the last time that I tried it on. I made sure I smelled great even though I knew I would get sweaty and gross standing and dancing in a crowd, but knowing that everyone else would be as well, made me want to make even more certain that my smell would be the best one there.

My group of friends were waiting in the parking lot when I arrived. We had collectively acquired the best ingredients for a pregame; one bottle of vodka, several cans of Xtreme Beast energy drinks, and solo cups. We each had a few very stiff “cocktails” before deciding that it was time to storm the gates. I had rarely drank alcohol before this, occasionally having a few drinks at parties, the sensation was still rather new to me at this time. We all stumbled our way into line and joked around as we waited, making a few friends with others waiting around us. I was just scanning the lines for Cindy.

When we got inside, the first thing we did was rush to the merch stand. If you don’t get there first thing, they could sell out of exclusives and high demand items before you even get a chance to see them. As luck would have it, Cindy was already at the table when we got there. She was with three of her friends, they definitely smelled like they had hotboxed their car before coming in. Our two groups became one. The next order of business was finding our base. We walked together in a line or a crowd, depending on the space, until we found the perfect spot, close enough to a bathroom, close to a service bar for drinks and snacks, and most importantly, close enough to see every detail of the band.

We all rocked out for the openers and had our idle shouting chit-chat between sets. When the headliners were about to come on, Cindy said she wanted to move up closer. Nobody else in the group wanted to leave our perfect spot. I shyly suggested that I would go with her. She grabbed my hand with a smile and a nod and pulled me up front. I don’t think I took my eyes off her the rest of the night. Seeing her smile and appreciate the music and turning to me to sing along with the parts we both knew. We kissed during the best part of their best song. It wasn’t the best part of their best song before that night.

We talked after the concert, but Cindy revealed that she had gotten accepted at her dream college. Practically all the way across the country. I never even got to see her again to say goodbye before then. I’m not sure what exactly could have developed between us if we had more time, but I’ll always remember one of their song’s closing lines, “You’ll always be the one that got away, there will always be one that got away.” I’ll never forget that summer, or that concert and my magical night with Cindy.

Oh, and my parents revealed some time after that they rekindled over an online dating site they had both been using secretly from each other, only to match over a somehow previously unrealized shared love of mai tais. I got unrequited love and they renewed theirs by trying to cheat. Make it make sense.