September 10, 2022

HS17: 7M3 - Strangely at Home Here

A curious experience for any aging artist: the day when your work becomes OLDER than you were when you made it.  

Albums age like people—it’s so easy to find the flaws. The dour earnestness, the inexperience, the unfettered seriousness…. But I’ve been trying to focus on the laugh lines now, as they’ve become more pronounced over the years. Laughter seems to be the best balm for the indignities of aging and the embarrassment of remembering.

Case in point: “I have become cumbersome.” l mean, what the hell was I thinking? 

You have to laugh. You just have to.

My 16YO already seems to get the laughter thing (most days ;-)). Like when she walked into her Anatomy class one morning to find her teacher, an old school 7M3 fan, playing the “Cumbersome" video on the giant projector screen at the front of the room. In a swirl of embarrassment and pride, she just had to laugh. What else could she do?! I love that kid. And shout-out to Mr. E!

I look at this picture from today’s post that Steve Balcom took from the side stage of the 10-year anniversary at HOB in O-town, and I’m flooded with the kind of nostalgia that makes aging seem okay. I remember re-tying my shoes (huh?) right before I went onstage. I remember my wife being pregnant and luminous. I remember mom and dad in the balcony. I remember being surrounded by family, friends, and long-time fans. I remember feeling in that space and time on that stage what it is to feel at home.

That night at the HOB is a show I will remember forever. The band moved as one. It was perfect. We just were well…us. Magic.

What a wild, surprising ride it’s been. You just have to laugh. Even if it’s through tears of gratitude.

I can’t believe I still fit into that jacket. ;-)

If you were there, thank you for making me feel like a real rock star for a minute. I carry that with me still.

You made me feel strangely at home.

Yours,

JR