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Thursday, October 28, 2004

More Strange Dreams

My dreams are getting more realistic. Previous ones have been surreal or bizarre, to say the least.

I don't know, maybe it's all this blogging about the Chevra lawsuit. It must be striking a chord, so to speak. You see, one thing I've kept out of the "official" history of my band is that we too went through a very tumultuous period. The recording of the first Kabbalah album led to a major split of the band.

I don't need to go into who was right or who was wrong (I still hold that I was right). We were a band with different personalities, trying to fuse our differences into a cohesive unit. The keyboard player was the "Lennon" of the band, coming up with grand ideas, and not caring how they got implemented. I was the nuts-and-bolts-obsessed "McCartney", worrying about budgets and overtime for recording sessions and musician schedules. Both of us were necessary in order for the project to get done. He became less and less of a presence in the studio as I took charge.

Inevitably we butted heads, and he split. A law student, the son of a prominent lawyer, he responded by suing the rest of the band. We fought it, but it left many bitter feelings. The album was great, and came in just slightly over budget. I haven't spoken with the keyboard player in 18 years.

During that time, I've listened to the music constantly. I don't know if he ever listened to it. It's been transferred to digital format, and it's on my website. I've thought many times about trying to contact him, to smooth things over. I wanted to say, "Look at what we did! Let's just get over it and be friends." In discussions with my former bandmates, I've always been discouraged from attempting it. "Who cares what he thinks?" "Why stir things up?" "What will it accomplish?"

Lately, as I've read of the Chevra and their Loshon Hora, I've thought about contacting him again. But I guess I'm worried that it will accomplish nothing more than another lawsuit. And who needs that aggravation?

So I had this dream last night. I've searched the web for his email address, and can't find one. Suddenly he shows up at my house, 1000 miles from where he's spent his whole life. He looks sad. I don't know what to say to him. I invite him over for Shabbos. After a while, I just look at him and say, "I'm sorry." And maybe it's not that I'm sorry about what I did. Maybe I'm sorry that whatever it was, whoever was at fault, it led to 18 years of animosity. 18 years where we could have shared in simchas and watching our children grow. Maybe could could have kept making music together.

Maybe it would have been great.

Ahhh, it was just a stupid dream.

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