Recently I ran into a childhood friend, member of the band. Almost 40 years in between.
It were as if I found a cartoon book, with a bookmark which landed me right where we had left off.
We could have been like two kids again, with passion for music and all things jr high.
He recently had cancer and miraculously, escaped death until then. An accomplished professional pianist, he said he would come back to play in Saigon again.
All of a sudden, those tunes and those faces resurfaced. It’s like buying a ticket to a movie house which shows “Back to the future“.
No wonder movies could say more than any other medium: it got sound, image and mood.
The industry often uses yellowish lighting or black-and-white to denote flashback.
If it were a film, my friend and I certainly were in white and blue uniform, band-rehearsing our piece (3 electric guitars and a drum set).
My years in high school were rush rush. We were witnesses to political upheavals, fast social mores and intense clashes between modernity versus migration.
I remember our shirt collar styles. They kept changing during those years, from being pointy, to being round then Beatles‘ no collar.
The neighborhood tailor’s was doing brisk business.
Music was in Hit Parade, and fashion from Paris Match.
Boys and girls wore shirts so tight that they could be body glove. And those white shirts glowed when the disco lighting flashed on them.
My friend wore a wig when played key board for a Rock and Roll band.
He went pro.
(Ironically, he now needs a wig again with cancer and all).
We have so many unfinished “books” and they all are bookmarked.
The day the 7th fleet marines left a bin at the feet of the gangplank for refugees to drop their weapons before boarding, I also left many bookmarked relationships behind as well.
We call it legacy now. Just a flashback now and then. But one has to move on.
Each day is a new day. New “social network” relationship and connection to be established.
New way of collaboration.
But those memories stay there like books left on the shelves.
With bookmarks, for easy search.
My friend and I opened it right where we left off.
And in my mind, I could still see him with hair, 40 years younger, and a smile that was indelible.
Cancer or no cancer, our camaraderie sticks. Members of the band. Collaboration. Same beat, same tempo.
Many but one. Music dictates. In our case, it was Apache, by the Shadows. Got to go….to Youtube. Try it, you’ll like it.
Maybe it will land you where your own bookmarks were. Even first love, which melts away a hardened heart.
As of this edit, he passed away without another chance to play they Hyatt’s piano in Saigon. But memory of that brief encounter did bring closure to our chapter. Albeit short book.
Thang Nguyen 555 