Feeling Good - The Story of Sam & Henry

Chapter 28 - Marcus the Ficus

"So what's the best concert you've ever been to?" Sam asked, standing in the kitchen wearing my favorite Pearl Jam t-shirt, cooking us omelets at 2 in the morning.

"Well, the Pearl Jam show where I bought that t-shirt you're wearing was pretty awesome, but I'd probably have to say Bruce Springsteen in 2007. Although that's really a tough call because that same year I saw Rage Against the Machine at Coachella."

"My, my...Coachella... how very hipster of you," she said.

"I'll have you know that in 2007 Coachella had not yet sold out and was still very much about music and less about saying that you were going to Coachella," I said. I grabbed some plates from the cupboard and put them next to the stove where she was cooking. I looked down at the omelet she was making, and I nearly started to drool, it looked so good and yet so simple.

"Fair enough," she said, "If you could attend any concert ever, with any band, living or dead, which would it be?" She sprinkled some cooked vegetables and some cheese into the eggs and gave them a little stir.

"This is a great question; I've actually spent a considerable amount of time thinking about this answer, and here's the thing, I don't think I can pick just one concert. I mean, do you go Queen Live Aide in Wembley Stadium, or do you do Jimi Hendrix and the Experience at Winterland? Or is the point to be present at any iconic moment, like the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show or Otis Redding at the Monterey Pop Festival? For me, I think what matters most isn't the band or the show itself or who I'm with, but the confluence of all three. Like, some of the best concerts I've been to were no-name bands in college, but you know, I was hanging with my buddies and we had a kick ass time, and that's what made it amazing. What about you, what live show would you most want to see?"

She made a funny face and kind of scrunched up her nose. "Oh Blue, you're going to hate this about me, but I don't really get the point of live music. I mean, it's ok, but I don't know if I would seek it out necessarily. I sort of listen to everything but love nothing. Maybe I just haven't been to the right shows. I mean, I went out to some concerts in college, but, I dunno, live music never really did it for me."

I took one of the forks from the drawer and pretended to stab myself in the heart. "Sam, you're killing me! You don't like live music?"

"It's not that I don't like it, it's that I don't understand it. Like, can't I just listen to this at home? Why do I gotta stand here with all these drunken idiots waiting for two hours for some band to come on stage when I could just be doing something else. Like I said, maybe I just haven't seen the right band in concert to really get the bug for it, you know?"

"So if you're not into music, what else do you do besides cook?"

"That is a mischaracterization of what I said. I love music, I just don't see why I have to enjoy it with 30,000 other people, all of whom want to use the bathroom or vomit at the same time." She had finished cooking the omelets and placed a half on each plate, then sprinkled both with some green herb mix she had chopped. She handed one plate to me and took one for herself.

"Fine," I said, "You like music fine when you're at home in your safe little space."

"You know," she said, "I think part of it was that I was just so wild when I was younger and I did so much crazy shit, that I really don't like being around other people who are drunk or on drugs or who are acting like idiots because it is this vivid reminder for me of all the stupid fucking shit I did when I was younger."

"So if you're not into live music, what else do you like to do, besides cook?" I said, taking a bite from the omelet. "Damn, this is amazing, by the way. How do you make eggs taste this good?"