by Eric Shoars
“Oh!” Lori completes the circuit. “We wouldn’t need to get those elaborate ones but we could order wristbands that just light up. That would be so fun!”
“It would be safer than people holding up lighters and less annoying than people holding up their cell phones to create the same effect,” Todd acknowledges rubbing his chin.
“Sounds like we have a consensus,” Laurel announces sounding parliamentarian. “Julie, since you’re familiar with these wristbands, would you handle ordering them for the next two shows?”
Julie throws a thumb in the air. “Consider them ordered.”
“Stop,” Todd’s disdain seems never ending. “Are we literally doing something inspired by Taylor Swift?”
“Shake it off, Todd. Shake it off,” I tease, doubling over in gut-busting glee at the tomfoolery.
Faith looks over at Ashley and comments, “Your dad cracks himself up.”
“You can’t even imagine, Faith,” Ash says face palming. “You just have to experience it for yourself.”
***
September 1, 2018
St. Louis in late summer can be sweltering, featuring a one-two punch of heat and humidity. On this September Saturday night the temperature is in the high 80s but the humidity is not horrible. It’s more comfortable outside than one would reasonably expect. This is to our advantage because the Atomic Cowboy is our first outdoor venue.
The Atomic Cowboy Pavilion on Manchester Avenue in St. Louis is the entertainment extension of an exposed-brick emporium of art, alcohol and eats, planetary in size for what is basically a bar. The Atomic Cowboy is housed in an all-brick building straight out of the 1800s. If you saw it in a black and white or sepia photograph, you’d swear it still was…except for the mural on the side of the building that looks like it’s a story high. The mural is that of a cowgirl in denim shorts, tank top, and cowboy hat riding a rather large missile. Atomic Cowboy is in cursive.
The afternoon show was bonkers. People were definitely in a party mood and the beer was flowing. What’s impressive to us is that the afternoon show was the added show. We knew the 7:30 show was already sold out but to sell out a second show where ticket sales began about a week before the event is sensational.
We asked Something Resembling Responsible to be our opening act for all shows after the great job they did in Minneapolis. They got the crowd rowdy and ready before we hit the stage. We hit the stage and more than lived up to our post-Ellen hype.
We are relaxing in the green room before the night show. The Atomic Cowboy’s green room is unreal. It’s an event space with private lounge area, dinner area, bathroom, private entrance to and from stage with use of security escort and 20 feet of exposure to a public street. It’s like a studio apartment with all the amenities and Onions At A Crime Scene is making the most of it.
Faith and Ashley are set up at a long table near the window handling our Instagram and Twitter accounts, reviewing posts from the first show. Our social media is a sea of photos of us and our fans in front of our Onions and Centrum Silver backdrop.
Hope and Nicole are at the next table going over merchandise sales and inventory. Julie and Seth are out in the pavilion working to make sure all is set for the second show, including the local video company we hired to record the evening concert. Why not have a live concert video we can sell on DVD and as a download?
For all the positivity of the first show, a pensive mood is upon the Onions. It’s not long before the second show and we are pondering our first show and the meet-and-greet afterward. It is still astounding how this concert tour impacts those who attend. This was meant to be a nostalgic journey but it has manifested to be much more than that.
We four are gathered around the fireplace that is merely there for ambiance. Todd and I are in high back chairs bookending the hearth, backs to the outside wall. Laurel and Lorelei are sitting in side-by-side leather love seats. Laurel sits across from Todd curled up in her seat. Lorelei is opposite me with her legs stretched out on the matching foot rest.
Laurel stares at the fireplace with a letter in her hand she’s just finished reading. Clearly the content of the letter is having an emotional impact. Her index finger is over her lips, thumb under her chin. Her finger and thumb seem to be working to keep her thoughts from becoming verbal.
“Eric,” she says, one name escaping through her digits’ defenses. Our eyes meet. “You’ve never been averse to flying in the face of convention, have you?” Laurel’s assertion comes from nowhere and its intent is unclear and a little unsettling.
“That’s a fair characterization,” is my reply.
“Remember when you took shorthand?” Laurel asks shifting to better see me without having to crank her neck.
“Of course,” comes out of me without hesitation; continuing in a voice that sounds like a narrator. “The ancient art of shorthand. An abbreviated symbolic writing method that increases speed and brevity of writing as compared to longhand,” I finish and then revert back to my normal speaking voice. “I remember it very well.”
A slight smile comes to Laurel’s lips. Then she nods.
Todd who also had been staring into space while downing a beer snaps to attention in a heartbeat. “Stop. Are you telling me you actually took shorthand?”
“Sure did. I was the first and only guy in my high school’s history to take shorthand or ever will be. It’s not offered anymore.” Shorthand went the way of the manual typewriter, the abacus, and – pretty soon – cursive. No one will ever equal my accomplishment but only because it is now obsolete.
“That has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Todd remarks with no shortage of disgust. “Why would you do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Todd,” Laurel interjects not hiding her annoyance at Todd’s insinuating himself into this particular conversation. “One guy in the middle of a class of 13 very attractive girls; me, Randee, Cindy, Kathy, Leslie, Nancy, Dee, Becky...among others.”
“Wow,” Lorelei whistles, “sounds kind of genius to me.” A huge smile forms on her face as she looks at me. “Kudos to you, sir.”
“Thank you,” I respond bowing from a seated position. “That was a fun year. The teacher was so flattered that a guy took her class.”
“Oh, you got away with stuff the rest of us never could have,” Laurel says almost in protest. “Mrs. Hinman loved you.”
“My charm is a superpower I can’t control,” I respond to Laurel’s assertion. “But what takes you down this particular path?”
Laurel holds up the piece of paper she’s been contemplating. “My son Cole left a letter for me in my handbag. I’m not sure he meant for me to find it between shows tonight.” She carefully sets the letter on the small end table next to the chair. “It’s no secret that I’ve been struggling with the prospect of being an empty nester. Cole is suggesting Seth and I become foster parents.”
The room is quiet. Things just took a turn in a direction none of us anticipated. Todd lowers his beer so that it is resting on his right thigh. Lorelei sits up a little straighter.
“How does that fit with what you said about me?” is the only question I can think to ask.
“You’ve never shied away from the unconventional,” Laurel answers. “Why is that?”
My shoulders shrug quickly. “The question I don’t want to ask at the end of my life is ‘what if’? I would rather know how the story ends in taking a risk or a chance – even if it doesn’t turn out well.” I pause to ponder if my answer is complete and end with, “Sometimes that means carving a new path just to see where it leads,” I punctuate with a sweep of my right hand that gathers the Onions in its wave.
“How do you feel about Cole’s suggestion?” Lorelei asks.
“Not sure. It’s never crossed my mind before. Once the boys are all out of the house it would seem to be the end of my child raising days,” Laurel admits
her eyebrows rising. “But does it have to be? Perhaps not.”
“Not to sound like a dick...” Todd starts.
“Never stopped you before,” I zing.
“Fair enough,” Todd nods then flips me off with his left hand as he returns his attention to Laurel. “Are you sure you want to raise someone else’s kids? Someone else’s troubles?”
“Todd!” Lorelei exclaims. “That’s a horrible thing to say. They’re kids for God’s sake!”
Laurel holds up a hand to Lori. “No. It’s okay. I know what he means. Not proud to admit it but the same thoughts crossed my mind. It’s one thing when I know how my kids were raised but another thing entirely to come into the middle of another child’s life. Would I even know how to do that?”
“Oh stop,” Lori scoffs. “You won’t suddenly forget how to be a great mom just because the youngest of yours leaves home. I’m sure you’ve been a mom figure to your sons’ friends over the years.”
A look of surprise appears on Laurels’ face. “Yes! Yes, I have. Hadn’t thought about that.”
“Kids are kids,” I add. “Each one comes with his or her own challenges but, regardless their circumstances, kids just want to be loved, to know someone gives a damn about them. I daresay those are things that are well within your skill set.”
“What do you think Seth will say?” Todd wonders aloud.
“I don’t think it’ll take any convincing,” Laurel admits. “It’ll make him smile. A few years ago he suggested we adopt.” A chuckle comes forth. “Seth will love the irony. He’s such a wonderful father. I can see him being a foster dad in a heartbeat.”
Todd turns away from us and stares at the wall. He returns to his beer taking a swig before lowering the bottle once more to rest on his right thigh. “Eric gets the band he’s always wanted, Lorelei gets to help others through grief counseling, and Laurel will get new purpose as a foster mom.” A heavy sigh, another swig, and then with more than a note of bitterness, “What the hell do I get out of this?”
It’s a question left hanging in the air that none of us has any clue how to answer.
***
The sun has long since set by the time we take the stage at 8:30. The heat is still with us but with the sun and humidity out of the picture it is a gorgeous evening to rock St. Louis.
The stage is about four feet off the ground and is not very deep, making it very close quarters for us. We need to be mindful where we are when moving onstage so we don’t trip over equipment or knock it over. It is the epitome of an intimate setting that has the feel of a summer street dance. The crowd is close and standing room only.
It is dark enough for us to see the wristbands in their full glory. It was fun to see the crowd wearing them during the afternoon show but there wasn’t much point in them lighting up in broad daylight. Now, however, the wristbands are in full effect. And they are exquisite. There’s not a person we can’t see. Shout out to my girl Taylor Swift.
The four of us have large bottles of water to keep us hydrated taking drinks after every song. We have dressed for the occasion.
Todd looks very Springsteen with a sleeveless denim vest that has the top two buttons unbuttoned, black board shorts, and sneakers with no socks. An American flag bandana completes his look.
Laurel sports a grey tank with a deep scoop, white shorts, and flats.
Lorelei wears a green cotton blouse showing a hint of cleavage, a white cotton skirt, and sandals. She has her hair pulled back in a pony to keep her hair away from her face.
I’m in a blue Onions shirt, khaki shorts, and strap on sandals. I look over to make sure the set list is where I put it in the first place and hasn’t accidentally been taken down. It’s exactly where it needs to be.
St. Louis Set list:
Take The Day
1986
Happy Ever After
All Those Ones and Zeroes
California Dreamin’
Everything Changed
No Way Back Today
Talk Dirty to Me
Innovation Generation
Encore: It’s Our Time Now
The assembled are in their concert groove by the time we hit All Those Ones and Zeroes. It might be they had all day to get psyched up or they’ve had a tough week and need to blow off steam or maybe they’re excited because the Onions are in their town and it’s a big-ass celebration. I like to think they’re excited to see us.
Lori and I come out from behind our instruments to join Todd and Laurel at the front of the stage. Jake, the sound tech, brings out two wireless hand mics on stands and places them where Lori and I will be positioned. Todd and Laurel bring their mic stands over to where we line up. From the audience’s perspective it’s Todd, Eric, Lorelei, and Laurel.
“You’re probably familiar with our story,” Laurel begins once we’re in place. “One of the deciding factors in us doing this reunion tour was, frankly, how we sounded together. It was at a bar in Des Moines that we did some karaoke and realized we had something special. This was the first song we ever did together. It’s called California Dreamin’. The crowd applauds with gusto. We look at one another and smile. Precious memories.
All is as it should be until midway through the song when, for an instant, it seems like Todd dropped a note. Nothing drastic but the three of us notice it only because we’ve sung this song many times with Todd and we know this is not how he usually sings it. Something’s off. The crowd doesn’t know it but I can’t help wonder what happened. While playing to the crowd I scan it and our surroundings. Nothing out of the norm. No disturbances. No accidents. No nothing.
The last note fades away as we look out into the audience. Cheers and clapping. We bow and clap back at the fans before moving to return to our instruments. Todd suddenly intercepts us putting his body in Lori’s and my path. Laurel moves our way when she notices her bandmates are in an impromptu tight formation. We look at Todd quizzically.
“She’s here,” Todd says with a panic I have never heard from him before. Never.
“Who’s here?” I ask.
“Meredith!” Todd replies with an expression that conveys his world is crumbling in front of him.
Lori’s eyes get as wide as dinner plates. “You mean ‘Meredith, the one that got away Meredith’?”
“Yes!” he exclaims. “For God’s sake, it’s Meredith!”
“Where is she exactly?” Laurel inquires rotating her left leather wristband as she does.
“Redhead, second row, directly in front of where I’m standing,” he informs us then adds, “do not turn around and look. Just go back and act normal.”
My head cocks to one side as I give him a look that asks him if he’s okay.
“Don’t say anything, Eric. Just go back to your drum kit and let’s move on,” Todd orders.
Laurel looks over at Lori and me. “You know our next song, right? Right?”
“Oh shit,” comes out of me just louder than a whisper.
“Everything Changed,” Lori finishes the thought. “Oh my God.”
Laurel nods and we do the only thing we can do - go back to our places and see where this development takes us. Our exchange takes a handful of moments but it seems like a lot longer. The fans continue to cheer and think what we’re doing is just part of making sure the Onions are offering a crisp performance. On a normal night that would be the case. But normal now is a tiny dot in our rear view mirror.
I climb back behind my drums picking up my sticks about the same time my butt hits the seat. In that sliver of time I sneak a peak in the direction Todd described to us. I see her – an extremely attractive redhead standing in front of Todd in the second row. She’s wearing a red tank top with jean shorts. She is stunning.
My friends look back at me ready - as much as we can be - to count us down to start the song. Using my sticks to count, afrai
d my voice might crack, it’s four, three, two, one then the drums come to life and we’ve begun. Since this is Todd’s song he’s got the heavy vocal lifting to do. I’m his backup.
“Too apprehensive for my world to change...” Todd begins and the crowd goes up in a cheer of recognition. “Naively thinking I could control my own fate,” his voice cracks on the last couple of words. “When she left everything changed anyway.”
I can barely keep from throwing up. I am playing and watching the concert simultaneously. There are nearly two thousand people here and all I can see is Todd and Meredith. He’s singing to her. Never takes his eyes off of her and, now, neither can I. She’s not my lost love. She’s not the woman I never got over. She doesn’t haunt my dreams.
BUT. But this is the song that I co-wrote. But this is the song that got me kicked out of an Applebee’s. But this is the song that my former childhood best friend nearly kicked my ass over when he read it. So, yeah, I’m emotionally invested.
As we play our second tour stop Todd is singing this song to the woman he loved more than anyone ever. As I sit here drumming in the middle of a St. Louis late summer evening I cannot get warm. I am freezing from the inside out. My blood runs cold and my stomach is like a pinwheel. Glancing quickly I see Lorelei and Laurel doing what I’m doing - forgetting there’s a crowd and never taking their eyes off of Todd and Meredith.
As Todd sings to his true love I’m echoing his words to confirm to Meredith every word, every note is meant for her. Tears are flowing down Lori’s and Laurel’s cheeks. This has gone way beyond a concert performance and life just got insanely real and we don’t know where the hell we go from here. We just follow the notes and hope for the best.
Todd’s back is to me so I can’t see his face but I can hear his voice and it sounds like my guts feel. Tears are streaking down Meredith’s face. She’s taken a tissue out of her back pocket and is dabbing it under her eyes. How did she end up here? Where did she come from? Why?
“Can I turn the hourglass upside down? Let me go back and be the man I am now. The sun and the moon will soar in rewind...back to the moment her hand was in mine,” is the chorus I sing and it’s damn near more than I can take. How the hell is Todd keeping it together?