Ed the Hippie Ghost

the Celebrity Theatre
blooms like a desert flower
in the bleak night sky
 
reentry into extroverted earth
bestows extra beauty
to the round white building with peacock blue lights
hunger is the best spice
 
i'm rock concert excited
not dissimilar from decades ago
but tonight's a scaled down version
Rick Wakeman from Yes
one of my long-time rock idols
small intimate setting
Fewer than 2,000
 
near the entrance
a young security guard
calls for ID
it needs to match the required vax card
 
scanning the demographic
he amuses himself
"drivers license, bank card
Medicare card...."
fuck him
he's just jealous
we got all the good music
 
i look at the fellow antendees
few under 50
more than a few canes
the sloppy stoned indulgence of yesteryear
conceding to twelve dollar wine in the lobby
life goes on
 
the venue sold only 75% of seats
covid covid covid
but they've packed everyone together
what??
 
my friend and i notice an empty section
perfect, closeup view of the stage
an usher notices us noticing
waves us in
yay!
 
as we're getting settled
a tall, white-haired tech
with a potbelly and light blue grandpa jeans
is briefly on the stage
checking the piano and keyboards
the concert should be starting soon
 
I remember back to when i was in junior high
Wakeman was a 6'3 vision
royal purple cape
waterfall of the longest blonde hair
 
soon i'll be watching his gifted fingers fly
really close up!
it feels surreal
i'm a postmenopausal idiot
still uncertain rock stars are human
 
minutes later
the lights dim
the white-haired man
in the light blue grandpa jeans
sits down at the piano
 
it's Rick Wakeman
 
decades of magical thinking vaporize
he's human
 
-we're all human-
 
Most of the crowd
is here for the Yes songs
Roundabout
Long Distance Run Around
 
i'm mostly here for Wakeman's solo album
Six Wives of Henry VIII
my senior year of college favorite
 
i listen to the best music
with the B side of my brain
the one with fewer words
but far more feeling
a not inferior flip side
 
One Six Wives song in particular
has a progression that makes me know things
things i couldn't possibly know
a forgotten lifetime
i'm not sure i believe such things
my brain's flip side does
 
the first half of the show thrills me
a smattering of Yes songs
one from Journey to the Center of the Earth
an impossibly beautiful Morning has Broken
Bowie's Life on Mars
 
Wakeman entertains us with anecdotes
life in his small English village
a proposal of texting for seniors:
ATD
(At the Doctor)
IJF
(I Just Farted)
 
there's more than one fart joke
he's definitely human
i like him
 
he announces an intermission
ill finish my 15,000 daily steps 
fitness is aging's kryptonite
at least i like to think so
 
in the lobby
an old hippie with long gray hair
bumps hard into a wall
he turns to me
concern in his voice
"Are you okay??"
 
huh?
 
a minute later
he hits the wall again
asks another baffled woman
if she's okay
 
clearly
he is the one
who is not okay
 
i walk the stairs of the small theatre
top to bottom four times
when i come back
my friend's talking to two men
one's a junior senior (55-ish)
the other's the wall bumper
 
he introduces himself as Ed
 
I tell him my name
he reaches for my hand
not to shake it
but to hold it
he looks deep into my eyes
 
groovy
i think he's groking me
 
dammit
I'm kind of groking him too
well, my flip side brain is
it senses he was really something
when Roundabout ruled the airwaves
 
i was eleven then
but he, around ten years older
would have been on the threshold of adulthood
an enchanted time
he probably went to Wood,,,
 
"I WENT TO WOODSTOCK."
Ed announces
okay, that answers that
but why is he shouting?
his voice gets quieter  
as i question him about the festival
he describes it like it was yesterday
a look of wonder in his eyes
happiness hovering close
 
just as I'm thinking
he deeply misses that time
he affirms he does
in a quiet voice
he slurs that he's 71
 
where did the time go?
he wonders
 
i grok you there Ed
 
he reaches for me again
i step back
there's alcohol on his breath
 
the lights dim
okay Ed
have a nice rest of the show
have a nice rest of your life
 
but he doesn't return to his seat
he plops down next to my friend
 
Nooo!
 
I hear the opening chords
of my magical song
the hauntingly beautiful
Jane Seymour
(no, not that one. The medeival one)
 
the music is reaching the most intuitive part of me
i'm feeling it like crazy
i close my eyes
ascending to full immersion
 
and then
 
Ed
 
 
 
"DO YOU PLAY THE KEYBOARD?"
 
 
"I DO!!"
 
his voice is far too loud
for the not-loud concert
 
when he shouts again
Ron's the voice of reason
"Hey, we came to hear the music..."
 
good
 
he said it firmly
but not rudely
that should work
he'll find a new seat and...
 
"ME TOO!" yells Ed
 
Ron and i exchange looks
he pats the seat
to the other side of him
i climb over him and sit there
get further away
that's even better
seems logical
 
 
but Ed doesn't get it
 
"ARE YOU MAD AT ME?
I DON"T WANT YOU TO BE MAD AT ME!"
 
then
thank god
he goes silent 
 
the magic of the magical song
excises him from my thoughts
for a blissful few minutes
 
and then...
 
 
 
"DO YOU PLAY THE KEYBOARD?"
 
 
 
I DO!"
 
 
Ed fans out his long fingers 
stares at them
remembering perhaps
what they brought him:
creative expression
cammeraderie with bandmates
a tiny taste of fame
maybe a triple bill
at the Santa Cruz Pier
1971
opening for the band
that opened for the band Looking Glass
tickets two dollars and fifty cents
 
maybe he was also recalling
college days
antiwar demonstrations
making love with earthy women
travelling in a VW van to Baja
the world like the open road in front of him
breeze blowing back his long hair
 
not a care in the world
 
half a century ago
 
now Ed's a ghost
uncomfortable here
trying to find his way back home
bumping into walls as he goes
 
After two more songs  
he unceremoniously leaves
 
later
i silently wish him well
hoping
he looks through the windshield
more often than the rearview mirror
and at least sometimes
loves what he sees