I have been an observer of people lately it seems. I have quality time at my local airport every
week as a volunteer, so I do a lot of people watching those days, but these are
other times that have popped up recently.
In the lobby waiting for “Jersey Boys” to start and again this past
Friday at a Celtic music concert. It’s interesting
to me to see how people walk and move and what they wear. How the interact with
others or their expressions while they just stand there waiting for
someone.
Friday night I attended a Celtic music concert in town that
kicked off a weekend festival. I had heard one band before, Rathkeltair, and
had heard of another, Seven Nations (though technically I did see their
original lineup play a reunion show in 2006) and one was totally foreign (pardon
the upcoming pun) to me, the Scottish medieval rock band Saor (pronounced Shore) Patrol. While I really want to write a whole story on
the woman that was dancing with a light pole during the Seven Nations set and
shaking it so much that those of us closest to her honestly thought it was going
to come crashing down on us, I won’t.
You had to be there for that or at least have video and I actually do
have enough manners not to take pictures of people possibly embarrassing themselves,
though I have to say that the lady in question was having fun and didn’t care
who was looking and, thankfully, also did not turn it into a true pole
dance. For that, I’m sure everyone was
grateful.
During the music I would look around now and then and
observe what people were doing. Mostly
just milling about, kids running, friends greeting each other, and sadly for
others, getting up to leave early. I mean, if they left before Saor Patrol came
on then it was a huge mistake. Such a
great group to see live and such amazing power from the drummers. As they were taking the stage and getting
going, I looked off to my right and saw the lead singer of Seven Nations, Kirk
McLeod, departing. He’d hung around
awhile, talking to the previously mentioned dancing fan and some other folks,
but he’d now packed up his guitar and, with it slung over his shoulder,
he was heading up a slight incline, most likely headed to his car and back to
his hotel. As I watched, he looked back
once at what was happening on the stage, turned, and continued his slow and
steady steps until he was out of my sight, hidden by the bushes.
The look on that man’s face spoke volumes to me. I saw worlds flash in that face, in just
those few minutes. Maybe it was the dark
night that surrounded him or the cast of the lighting from the aforementioned
light pole as it hit his face. I’m not
sure, but he looked tired. Pensive. Resigned.
Peaceful. So many different adjectives
came to mind. I wondered what was going
through his mind at that moment, when I watched him do what looked like bid a
farewell to the night and walk away with the resignation that one gig was over,
but more were to come and perhaps there was no rest for the weary. The slowness of his step, the look he cast
over his shoulder. Those made me feel like
this was a man who has lived a lot in his life and he’s tired, at least for
that night. I wished he’d turn toward
the crowd so I could have waved to him as in those few seconds, I felt like he
needed a wave and a smile.
Sad.
Contemplative. Determined. Just what was going on in your head
Kirk? Well, I’ll never know I suppose as
we aren’t likely to cross paths again in this life except over a merchandise
table at next year’s festival, but I am going to keep wondering. I can see his
face in my mind and I can’t help wondering just what he was thinking. Some say that it’s a woman’s nature to read
into things much more than is there and I imagine I am doing that in this
case. It’s not like the man had had a
bad night as a cheering crowd had greeted his band’s music with enthusiasm and
perhaps he was truly tired and ready for sleep or relaxation with friends and
family (my understanding is that the band got its start in my hometown which is
only an hour away, so maybe he had people waiting on him for a visit). As I said, I’ll never know, but his lone look
back over his shoulder, the slow and steady pace with which he walked, the
lighting of the night, it all came together to paint a lovely and interesting
picture for me. So I’ll go on wondering
what was playing through his head every time his music plays through my
speakers. And I’ll be grateful for that
one moment that he knows nothing about, but that I found oh so fascinating.
