love is pain

"Have you ever wanted to join the circus? Now's your chance. The Midnight Ridazz Circus is back in town. Los Angeles' monthly traveling group of clowns will be taking over the streets and showing the city how to have some fun..."


Or so the website promised.

My girl works at a coffee shop in Hollywood where hipsters like Leonard Cohen have been known to stop and get a cup of joe, and among the various regulars that inhabit the shop are people who invite her to participate in activities such as the above-mentioned urban sojourn.

On paper or in theory, these events sound cool. Really cool. However, being the jaded Angeleno that I am, my feelings about such endeavors is as follows:

1) I very rarely get in on the ground floor of anything worth doing early on, and therefore by the time I've heard of things like the midnight bicycle rides they have already reached a critical mass or some sort of peak; in other words, I'm always a tourist or a Johnny-Come-Lately. It's the main reason why I never got around to going to Burning Man: it was just too late for me to get on board that bandwagon.

2) As the word gets around and the buzz grows, these types of events take on a weight of their own. I fear the collective unconscious of the mob in any incarnation, whether it be a rock concert or a Nuremberg rally or a midnight bike run totaling over 1,000 riders... especially in Los Angeles, the birthplace of Road Rage.

In short, I didn't think it was a good idea to ride bicycles at night while dressed up like clowns and pissing off motorists in a city where people live and die by their automobiles.

Don't get me wrong-- it sounded awesome. It probably was awesome the first few times it was accomplished. But it's not a well-kept secret anymore, and the anarchic novelty seemed to have worn off even before I became enamored of it.

But who am I to spoil her fun? She asked me to go, I declined (citing musical obligations and my lack of a working bicycle as reasons) and she went ahead anyway.

I wished her well, told her to drive safe (as I always say to anyone I see driving away from me) and instructed her to call me as soon as she was done or if she decided to change her mind.


*/*


I received a call on my cel phone around a quarter past midnight.

I was busy recording vocals with some friends, and so the phone was turned off. When the session was done, I turned on the phone and heard one of my girl's coffeehouse patrons leaving me a voice message:

"She's OK... she had a nasty fall... very aggressive vibe out here tonight, I think she bit off more than she could chew... we're at the hospital right now... I'll try calling you later and let you know what her status is..."

He didn't leave a callback number. I began to panic. I called around, looking for anyone who might have her friend's phone number. I called her cel phone a few times but no one picked up.

Finally, she answered the phone. She was indeed OK, but she was going to require a few stitches on her chin. When she fell off the bike, she landed face first on the pavement. Her chin was cut wide open, and she had to be forced by her friend to visit the ER at Cedar-Sinai for treatment.

I raced over to the hospital. I was so glad she was alright. But before I left, she said to me over the phone that she hoped this wouldn't ruin our plans for the next day.

It was Friday night, and sometime on Saturday we were supposed to attend my little sister's wedding in Santa Barbara. I was going to introduce my girl to my family for the first time.


*/*


I was late to the ceremony.

I arrived at Butterfly Beach in Montecito just as the vows were finished. I caught the wedding procession as they walked on the sand of the shore.

I saw my niece, the flower girl... she was crying. She is such an emotional little 8 year-old.

I mingled with the guests, most of them close friends and immediate family. I went over to my sister and hugged her and apologized for my lateness. She asked me where my girl was, and I told her (and everyone else repeatedly throughout the evening) the story of her bike accident.

My mother seemed disappointed that my girl was unable to make it. But her disappointment was nothing compared to the complex emotions I was feeling at that moment.

I was angry at my girl for going on the ride and effectively taking herself out of the wedding plans, denying me the chance to show her off to my family.

I was angry at her coffee shop friend for taking her along when she was clearly in over her head-- she didn't even own a bike! The vehicle she crashed on was a loaner, totally not suited to her petite frame.

I was angry at my sister for marrying a man who I disliked, even as I had to grudgingly respect his work ethic and good intentions.

I was just angry, but more than that-- I was confused. And maybe my lateness was an unconscious attempt on my part to somehow gain control over a situation-- no, situations --that went far beyond my grasp.


*/*


The night before I had a strange dream whose meaning was not lost on me.

I dreamed that I was in a church, walking my sister down the aisle... only it wasn't my sister-- it was my girl. And not only that, but I was giving her away, as the father of the bride does in traditional ceremonies.

Who was I giving her away to? Me, of course. I was the groom as well.

I don't think it takes a scholar to interpret the anxious meaning behind that particular dream.


*/*


By the end of the night, I was happy again.

My girl was OK, at home with pain meds in her system; My little sister, whom I helped raise as if she were my own daughter, was ecstatic as the two respective families became one; my mother was happy to see me in attendance, and I had forgotten about the intensity of my irrational emotions earlier in the day.

There are some things in this life that we cannot control, obviously. I have always had a problem relinquishing control of certain things, and this past weekend was the culmination of my deepest fears regarding the important women in my life.

I told my girl about my strange dream, and she found that it wasn't so strange at all.

"I'm your friend, so that's like your sister. And I'm your lover now. Sometimes I'm like your mother, but I'm like a daughter to you also. I can see why you had that dream. It must be hard for you to let go of so much in such a short time."

Here she was, telling me how hard it must be for me... as her wrist was wrapped in a sling and her delicate chin was bandaged and bruised and her body ached from the impact of her dismount.

I hugged her and kissed her head, and whispered, "I'm just glad you weren't seriously hurt. You don't know how badly I freaked out when I got that message. You could've been killed."

"Yeah, but I'm fine now."

"I know... I know..."

I did not let her go. I held her in my arms until we both fell asleep in her bed.