As Time Goes By

An unforgettable experience.

I went to see Craig Chaquico in concert at the Performing Arts Center (PAC) in Anchorage a few years ago. As a contemporary jazz fan, Craig is one of my favorite guitarists. He brought his band along and everyone was excited about the show.

Craig took the stage without a word and opened with a blistering hard rock guitar solo reminiscent of his Jefferson Starship years that brought the audience to its feet. The PAC has exquisite acoustics and not a single note was lost as Craig absolutely shredded the song on his Fender Stratocaster.

 

As the show progressed the band returned to the slightly less energetic but just as exciting jazz genre. Craig’s rapport with the audience was natural and warm and we were all appreciative of the wide range of talent on the stage before us. Craig’s original songs “Her Boyfriend’s Wedding’ and ‘Jazz Noon’ were well received.

 

At one point Craig asked if he could share a story…

The lights were brought down and he began to talk about his relationship with his parents. He said they were always supportive of him, he spoke of them with obvious love and affection.

They loved to travel and their last trip together had taken them to Europe. Craig said they liked to drive around and explore on their own. One morning Craig’s father awoke and felt odd. He told his wife that he thought maybe they should go find a doctor. As they were about to get into their rental car he asked if she would drive this time. She helped him get in the passenger’s seat and closed the door. He rolled the window down and said he needed a kiss, so she obliged.

By the time she walked around the car and got into the driver's seat he was gone… he just slipped away in those few moments of time.

As Craig finished the story the house lights were dimmed to absolute darkness. From the silence the saxophone player began playing one phrase from the classic song ‘As Time Goes By’. As he played the line, “a kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh”, a single spot light came up on the horn. The phrase repeated ten or twelve times, the only light in the house was on that soulful saxophone player… all else was black. The music eventually stopped, the saxophonist bowed his head, and the single spot light very slowly dimmed to at last reveal only the outline of the musician on stage.

 

The audience was absolutely and completely silent. There was no conversation, no coughing, no applause, no whispering, not a single sound for what seemed an eternity. As the lights slowly came up I stole a quick glance around and everyone I saw had tears streaming down their cheeks, including me. The silence held for a moment more and then the applause slowly began. I will never forget those few moments as I watched one man with a saxophone bring tears to the eyes of two-thousand people. It was one of the most profound experiences I have ever had in a public setting.

 

I think writers should share of themselves. I think they should remind folks of the things that are important. Things like compassion, caring, patience, love, faith…

Share the things that have helped mold and change and shape your life. Give the rest of us some encouragement, some strength, some reason to get up and go on. Let your words be meaningful and helpful, even inspirational if you can. Let them be honest and plain and human.

 

Please... let your gift make a difference. Let your light shine.

 

 

 

Reviews

[J]

Well D, it seems you brought me along so I could stand beside you and weep with the other 2000 at the heartbreaking humanness of this person who has not forgotten that all of us, no exceptions, need to touch each other on a level universal to humanity. Hardship, loss, pain, catastrophe, struggle knows no class distinction. It is at once comforting, uplifting, and tragic.

You know I haven't been able to write for weeks. And I think you just showed me why . . . trying to mask and obscure the truth. I shall give it another try. I believe I forgot to look inside in lieu of looking for pretty words.

Your heart never fails to bring me up short and remind me that writing is so much more . . .

Know that you have made a difference.

Love,
j

ps - As Time Goes By . . . one of my favorite songs. ;-)

[Donald Meikle]

Jill brought me here, and tonight j brought me here. Wow! To actually share that with an audience, to reach them on that close a level. Hell even reading about it grabs at life and the love of it