Where I saw my first show (Ukrainian National Club). Where I played my first show (that weird downstairs bar). Where I played my first real show (ahh, the old 4H center). My old apartment (South street). Our first practice space (now demolished). Our second and fourth practice space (the creepy old house on North street where my bass got stolen). Our third practice space (the empty factory where Greg got jumped). Where Stella played (the Polish Home).
These are the places I went the last night I was in Auburn. I thought it would make me nostalgic, thought it would make me wish for a simpler time, when playing music was the only thing we cared about. Even thought it might make me a little sad.
Really everything just seemed small and empty. Really I couldn't believe that the whole nostalgia tour took only 10 minutes, tops. Really it just made me ridiculously happy to be getting on a plane heading back out west the next day.
It wasn't the places anyway. It was the people. It was us. Whatever scene we had back then was there because we made it. We created it out of almost nothing and we made it whatever it became out of sheer love. No band? Start one. No shows? Rent a hall and book some. We took our own enthusiasm and ran with it. Eventually some of us ran with it all the way across the country, only to return for holidays and weddings.
And I guess that's the way it should be. Let the current kids start their own thing free and clear, because there certainly aren't any of our ghosts hanging around.
