4GBs

A little more than a year ago, I was setting up equipment for a gig with my band, Soul Purpose, at a small bar on Holmes Beach on Anna Maria Island.  The bar is called D.Coy Ducks, and it’s located a few streets from the beach itself.  After setting up, I excused myself for a short time and head over to the beach for some peace and quiet before we started playing. 

I was feeling pretty squirrely about various things, and I had gotten into the habit of seeking out nuggets of wisdom from Eastern Philosophies.  I thought about something I had read recently, that even if we have a troubled relationship with a loved one, living or deceased, or if we are unhappy in some way with a person’s well-being or mindset independent of our own feelings or relationship to that person, it’s still possible to “walk” with them.  That is, we can take a walk on the beach, or in a park, or a beautiful setting and think to ourselves, “let’s walk together,” or “isn’t it nice that I can walk for my so-and-so, even though he can’t walk for himself.”  In some way, through doing this exercise, the author said you can feel a connection to your loved ones.  You can “take them for a walk.” 

So, that night after setting up to play, I tried this out.  I walked up the deserted beach right around twilight.  Looking at the waves, with the setting sun behind pink clouds on the horizon, I noticed sandpipers darting back and forth in the surf, looking for food.  There was nothing special about that evening on the beach, just stupid little sandpipers.  As far as I can tell, that same scene unfolds day after day, and I’m fairly sure those birds didn’t pack up and leave when I did.  No, they were probably there all night long and into the morning, as long as the tide stayed low, day in and day out. 

Yeah, I know, “look at the birds.”  How corny.  I’ve spent 36 years ignoring this kind of thing, but I looked at those silly birds and felt like I was among them.  I felt connected for the first time in my life to something other than myself.  And at that moment, my ego decided to shut up and to leave me the hell alone.  I left the beach and walked back to the bar in a daze.  I spent a few minutes chatting with friends until it was time to start playing. 

For the next four hours, Soul Purpose played without a single break.  It was the best musical experience of my life.  We left it all out there.  Together, we pummeled my eardrums and everyone else’s, leaving me with days of headaches, but it didn’t matter.  I will remember it for many years as the best night of playing music I ever had, and possibly the most fun I ever had in my life. 

We opened that show with “Thank You.”  To this day, I can’t hear this song without thinking back to that evening, seeing my good friend Al up on stage next to me, belting it out.  There’s nobody like Al. 

It’s good to know that I can return there in my mind anytime I want.  I can be back on that beach with those sandpipers and up onstage, next to my friend Al, playing “Thank You.”

Suggestive lyric: “You got me tryin’ new things too / Just so I can keep up with you.”

Album: I Thank You (1968)