by Eric Shoars
No one gathered here tonight understands the significance of what is unfolding in front of them. Maybe when the biography of the Onions is written they’ll find out. What I do know is that the three of us behind Todd have never played this song or - in my case - sung this song with the passion and depth we do tonight. We may never again. But tonight, for Todd, we are going to help him express to Meredith feelings he could never express years ago. We can only hope that counts for something.
“Under the stars no fears, no regrets...” the last words trail off as I finish the last chorus and the song. I still can’t get warm.
“I love you, Meredith,” Todd says like it’s part of the song. “And I always will.”
Laurel’s, Lorelei’s, and my mouths nearly bounce off the stage at the same moment Meredith’s hands cover hers. She looks up at Todd and nods as the tears come faster now. Part of me just wants to stop the show, wish the people of Atomic Cowboy goodnight, and go home. Let those two have time together to catch up or whatever. My eyes glaze over, lost in thought, until Todd’s voice comes in to fill the band’s silence.
“Everything Changed,” he announces like the crowd has no clue what song they’ve just heard. “Thank you,” he lifts his right arm, guitar pick in hand, to acknowledge his appreciation of the crowd’s indulging him in a special moment.
The rest of us are still so stunned about what just unfolded we’re momentarily paralyzed. Somehow Todd is functioning better than the rest of us and he realizes it’s up to him to get us jump started.
“The next song is the title track to our album and our tour...No Way Back Today!” Cheers and wild applause rise from the crowd which snaps me back to attention.
When Todd continues with a “one, two, one, two, three, four…” the count causes a reflexive action of striking the drums on my part allowing me to start playing on cue and on time. The ladies join in and we proceed with the next song. I can’t help but wonder if there is as much turmoil in the women’s heads as there is in mine. What is Todd thinking? What happens with those two after the show?
Talk Dirty to Me and Innovation Generation are the last two songs of the night as we bring our performance in for a landing. We nail the landing and thank our St. Louis fans for making us feel at home and then leave the stage. A few moments from now we’ll be back for the encore song It’s Our Time Now.
Making the most of those minutes, I dash from the Onions and find Jamaal who is Atomic Cowboy’s main security guy.
“Jamaal, Jamaal,” I call out jogging up to him. He is a mass of humanity in and of himself. He’s nearly six-six and built like a brick you-know-what. Dude is powerful and one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.
“What’s good?” he asks.
As discreetly as possible I direct his attention to Meredith. “See that redhead over there, second row in front of where Todd sings?” Jamaal nods.
“During our encore song please ease your way over to her and let her know we’d like to meet with her after the show. Please escort her to the green room and have one of the staff members keep her comfortable till we get there. Anything she wants. On us.”
“No problem, brother.” He motions to one of the other security guys behind me. “Yo! Donnie! Can you cover for me? Got to do a thing for the band.” Jamaal looks back to me and says, “Go finish your show, man. We got you.”
A smile, a pat on the shoulder, and I’m off. I can focus on the last song of the night now that I know Todd and Meredith will get a chance to renew acquaintances in a somewhat private location after the show. The crowd has lost none of its energy when we reappear on stage for the encore and we leave any remaining energy we have with them. It’s been a truly unforgettable day.
The four of us depart the stage and head for the dressing room after the encore. None of us say a word. We’re tired and sweaty and jubilant yet apprehensive, still reeling from the unexpected appearance of Todd’s lost love. We make our way back to the green room. Two steps before we get to the door I throw myself between my friends and our destination. They look at me like I’m trying to hide something from them. It’s completely the opposite.
“Todd,” I begin. “Remember when I promised you I’d never blindside you again?” My heart is in my throat because I’m not entirely sure how he’s going to react when I share with him who is waiting behind door number one.
“Yes,” Todd says warily. “Yes, I do. What have you done now?”
“Listen,” I continue with urgency. “We were all shocked to see Meredith in the audience. I don’t know about any of the rest of you but my heart is still in my throat and I didn’t want to take a chance on Meredith slipping away...”
“What. Did. You. Do?” Todd presses.
“Before the encore I told Jamaal to go to Meredith and let her know we wanted her to be our guest in the green room.” I toss a thumb to the door behind me. “She’s behind that door waiting for you.” At this moment I don’t know if Todd’s going to bear hug me or bury me. I exhale hard.
Todd’s expression softens. “Really?” he asks. “Meredith is for sure behind that door?”
“With God as my witness,” I confirm. “Would you like to say hello?”
“Damn right I would,” Todd nods.
“Don’t keep the lady waiting,” Lorelei urges. “Go!” She and Laurel put their hands on Todd’s back and gently push him forward toward me and the door. I pivot, open the door, and walk in. Alone in the corner on the other side of the room stands a solitary figure. I lead Todd there with the ladies behind him so he keeps advancing.
“You must be Meredith,” I greet extending my hand which she hesitantly shakes. “I’m Eric. Thank you for coming to our show tonight.” I point to the ladies. “That’s Laurel and Lorelei, respectively. I believe you know Todd.”
She grins at my stating the obvious. “Nice to meet you all,” she says warmly.
“Okay, so, I think the ladies and I will go over there and freshen up a bit before the meet-and-greet while you two catch up,” I state. “Take your time getting reacquainted. We’ll cover the meet-and-greet till Todd can join us. No hurry.” I put myself between Laurel and Lorelei and usher them to the opposite side of the room.
“So that’s her,” Laurel whispers.
“Yup. Meredith.” I confirm in a matching whisper, acting like her first name only is sufficient for Meredith to be identified like celebrities such as Madonna, Cher, Prince, or Alf.
“That’s Meredith. The woman who nearly got your ass kicked at Applebee’s. Wow. She’s gorgeous.” Lorelei adds.
I nod. “Wonder what her story is. Don’t see a ring on her finger,” I interject. “Who knows what tonight leads to?”
“Wouldn’t that be a fairytale ending?” Laurel ponders.
“Do you think they’ll ask us to play at their wedding dance?” Lorelei giggles.
“Do I have a speech already written in my head to toast the couple,” I add.
“What, now you’re looking to get your ass kicked at a wedding reception?” Laurel teases.
The three of us scurry away barely able to hold back the snickering at Laurel’s comeback.
***
It’s late on a Saturday night but you wouldn’t know it from the raw energy that crackles around us. About half of the 2000 people at the night show have stayed to be part of the meet-and-greet. Our four millennials were busy selling memorabilia to our fans who a few months ago didn’t even know we existed while we were doing the quick change thing in the green room.
The intensity of their draw to us remains a joyful mystery. The folks in line for their concert memento are greater than those in queue for an autograph or picture. The three of us buy as much time as we can for Todd. Fans came to see all four of us so they should get all four of us.
Todd is not missed early on. Most people aren’t interested in an autograph or a photo opportunity; the
y just want to tell us their stories. Stories of how the Onions have changed their lives in whatever way. Each person’s affinity to the group depends on whose personal story – Laurel’s, Lorelei’s, Todd’s or mine – he or she associates with or which song resonates most. That seems fair. We’ve shared our stories through songs and interviews, why shouldn’t they get to share in return?
The line keeps moving and a young woman who looks to be in her early 30s appears before me. She’s wearing a low cut, sleeveless, white blouse that showcases her girls exquisitely along with tight blue denim shorts and tan ankle boots. Extending a black sharpie in my direction, while pulling back her blouse with her right hand, she exposes her right breast not covered by her bra and asks, “Would you please sign my breast?”
Here is every rock and roller’s dream scenario. And, as much as I would like to accommodate her request, it just doesn’t seem the proper thing to do so my reply is, “I’d like to but I don’t think my wife would appreciate it.”
The woman looks at me with a semi-scowl. “So? I don’t want your autograph. I want hers.”
Lorelei is on my right standing shoulder to shoulder with me. The marker is as close to her as it is to me. “Me?” Lori responds with as much surprise outwardly as me inwardly. “I’d be honored.” Lorelei accepts the marker and leans forward meeting her fan halfway. “What’s your name, hon?”
“Leighann,” the fan replies then spells her name for Lorelei. Leighann tells Lori, “I’ve seen all your performances on YouTube. The way you play keyboard is spectacular. And you always wear the cutest boots,” she says.
“You are a fan. That is so sweet. I’m thrilled you like our songs,” Lori replies as she finishes her signature.
“Oh my gawd,” Leighann admires, “I love that. Thank you! I’m going to have this tattooed so it will always be with me. Keep rockin’!” She takes back the Sharpie from Lorelei, stashes it in her pocket, and leans in a little further so she can give my friend a hug.
“Such a pleasure to meet you, Leighann,” Lorelei says in the embrace. “Once you get that tattooed, post a picture will you? I’d love to see how it turns out.”
Leighann lights up at the suggestion. “Oh yes! I will! What a thrill meeting you, Lorelei.”
“Hold up,” Lori stops her fan and reaches into her back pocket for her phone and hands it to me. “Eric, would you take a picture of me and Leighann?” I take Lori’s phone and get it ready to take the picture.
“Oh, oh, oh! Me too!” Leighann removes her phone from her pocket and hands it over to me. Lori steps over a few feet to be in front of our selfie station with the Onions and Centrum Silver logo on the backdrop. Leighann bounces with anticipation as she moves to stand next to her favorite Onion.
I snap the photos with both women’s cameras and return each to the rightful owner. Both women are satisfied with my photographic skills and hug one more time before Leighann squeals with glee as she wades through the crowd. As Lori and I return to our previous positions she notices my look of dissatisfaction. “Why the frowny face, Eric?”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted,” I explain.
“Are you kidding me?” Lori asks her head tilted left and her hands on her hips.
“Come on, Lori, I am so much prettier than you,” I say my voice dripping with a smart aleck tone.
She slaps me on the shoulder. “You’re such a jerk,” she responds.
“Geez, talk about a plot twist,” I chuckle over the recent development. “Did not see that coming.”
“Julie’s going to tease you when she hears about this,” Lori observes.
“Yes she will,” I smile. Just then Todd appears from the green room. Meredith’s hand is in his as he leads her through the mass of humanity to help get Meredith on her way. If my perception is correct, there is an aura of comfort, of contentment between them. It seems at first glance the reunion is a welcome one for both.
Meredith smiles at us. It’s a smile of not knowing what else to do in this tremendously odd situation.
“Great concert, guys,” she tells us. “Love what you do,” Meredith says. With that she turns to Todd and adds, “I’ll talk to you later. Call me when you get in.”
Laurel, Lorelei, and I thank her and say so long as she quickly disappears. We take a moment to disengage from our fans to look at Todd. The look on our faces is a request for an immediate update.
Todd shakes his head, stupefied. “It’s like no time has passed.” He looks down at the ground for a brief instant. Then he looks at us once more. “She’s divorced. Turns out he wasn’t the one.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure where this goes from here but I’m meeting her for drinks and to talk when I get back to the hotel.”
“Ooh, how exciting!” Lorelei exclaims. “What a wonderful part of our story. I’m so happy for you!”
“Don’t get ahead of things, it’s just a conversation. A happy coincidence,” he cautions.
“Not a coincidence,” I counter. “Meredith didn’t end up here by accident. She bought a ticket to see us, to see you. That’s significant.”
“Reunions. Second chances,” Laurel ponders aloud.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Reunions. Second chances,” Laurel repeats. “Maybe that’s what this is all about. Maybe this is what we all get of out this.”
The four of us are allowed only a heartbeat to consider Laurel’s words before being snapped back to reality and more fans who want to say hello, take pictures, or have their body parts signed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thanks, Shallot!
October 13, 2018
“So, tell me, what’s the thing you remember most about each other from 4th grade?”
The question comes as my Onions compatriots and I sit on the stage at the Bottom Lounge in Chicago chilling after the first show and meet and greet session. My friend Jen DeSalvo is standing on the floor facing us at eye level. Over Jen’s right shoulder is a video camera on a tripod. Her cameraman has headphones on to make sure the incoming audio is clean. He gives Jen the okay sign.
Jen – like me – is a fan of all things superhero. She and I met at the Chicago Comic and Entertainment Expo a couple years ago. We followed one another on Twitter shortly thereafter and have been friends ever since.
Jen stands about five-seven with shoulder-length brown hair providing a frame for her smile, one that could power several city blocks. Jen is the epitome of fitness, which makes sense since she’s an avid marathoner and ultra-marathon runner.
Jen is not only a friend who knows the owner of the Bottom Lounge and helped get us booked here; she is a reporter for WGN AM radio and WMAQ television. Jen also serves as a contributor for the show Nude Hippo which is an around-town show in Chicago that features interviews and sketches. Once an episodic show, these days Nude Hippo does the occasional reunion show. Today Jen is doing a segment on Onions At A Crime Scene for such an episode. The irony of a reunion episode about a reunion tour is not lost on me.
Jen loves a unique story and has certainly found one in us. We had carved out some time for Jen in between shows to share thoughts on this journey that has brought us here and ends at the Bottom Lounge.
The Bottom Lounge is located on Chicago’s West Side. The environment has a clean but industrial energy that resonates from its cement and steel construction. The Bottom Lounge is known for bringing in aspiring bands from all over the country and featuring some great local talent as well, which was welcome news to me when I began the search for possible Onion venues. The Bottom Lounge’s main concert hall capacity is 700 which is an excellent fit for us.
The Bottom Lounge’s music set up positions it to be one of the best places to see a show. It’s almost like you’re seeing a band in a friend’s oversized garage that also happens to have a stellar bar inside. Great intimate venue and the perfect amount of space for the
band. Cement floor, cement walls, small bar to the side.
The room is kind of wide but not terribly deep. The cavernous music space reminds me of being in a public school gymnasium back when I was 11 at a middle school dance. The stage isn’t very high at all.
When you go to a concert at Bottom Lounge you’ll find it is standing room only. The best part about The Bottom Lounge is there’s not a bad place to stand. It’s one of those great venues where you can see the band no matter where you are. Trust me, I checked.
The four of us – along with the packed house – were dripping wet after the first show. The joint was jumping and we fed off the crowd’s energy. Almost half of those in attendance at the first show came to see us afterward to buy something, get an autograph, or take photos. Or all of the above. Faith, Hope, Nicole, Ashley, Julie, and Seth ran a smooth meet and greet with everyone who came to see us walking away with smiling faces.
Jen’s addition to her initial question brings me back to the interview at hand. “Let’s start with Eric. What do you remember most about him from 4th grade?” Her eyebrows rise with anticipation. A pregnant pause and then my three friends respond in unison, “Viking.” My head dips and nods as my shoulders slump. Of all the things to remember me for, they remember Viking.
“What’s Viking?” Jen follows up.
Todd picks up. “Viking was Eric’s lucky pet rock. It was this polished, misshapen rock about three inches long. He always had it in his back pocket. Always.”
“No kidding,” Laurel continues. “He was so superstitious. Eric would take out that rock and rub it before a test, before recess...anytime he believed he needed a little extra luck…out came Viking.”
“Do you still have that lucky rock?” Lorelei turns to me and asks.