I turned right on Clague Road, a street perpendicular to my parents’. Before I could do so, I waited for two vehicles to pass; they turned out to be police cruisers. I turned after them. About 400 feet ahead of me, they both turned on the left turn signals, and pulled into two separate driveways, both adjacent to one another. The cars completed Y turns and went back in the other direction. I didn’t stare too long at them, but I suspected they were Westlake police officers and were returning to their town. If I had taken a left turn on Clague, I would have very soon crossed over into Westlake. My mind whirred. Why were both of these officers scoping out the same area of a very not-heavily-crime-ridden suburb of Cleveland? Was it just a slow night? Were they actually checking out a particular area after a call about malfeasance?
After patrolling the scene, I made it to the cafe where I ordered decaf, not because that was my normal choice but because it’s almost 9 PM. I had to get some words in my hard-bound journal, not any of the blogs or what-have-you online. The last entry was the 29th of June. That stretch of time was not horribly long, but it’s too long for me.
I heard Rammstein blasting right outside my office building. It rests across the river from one of Cleveland’s concert venues, an open-air arena that hosts a variety of bands and singers. This evening it’s Poison and Warrant. I was treated to a sound check in the early afternoon, which made the day slightly better after my baseball team sucking ferociously once again at home.
The day before were The Decemberists. I wanted to go. I should have tried for tickets, but did not. If I had gone to the office instead of working at home, I might have been able to catch the sound check during the day. I would have realized that I could hear the music easily – even from inside! I could have worked late and heard July! July! floating across the Cuyahoga on a lazy and hazy summer evening; I could have been treated to The Mariner’s Revenge as a gigantic freighter passed by the stage; June Hymn the final song – one of the most beautiful songs on the newest album.
Concert luck has again fluttered down into the negative scale.
I will see somebody playing soon. Probably not The Police.
Radiohead’s Separator is gorgeous.