Travels With Buddha — 5.1 — — Row 2, Cuthbert Amphitheater, Oxbow Slew, Willamette River, Northeast Eugene, Oregon, PNW, USA — — “We don’t need no education…”
Honestly friends, living with Buddha, well it’s just like being a reluctant parent again. This time trying to raise your inner child.
Since we came back from the lake he’s been moping around the house like an acned teenager. I try to tell him to wait for the weekend, we’ve got plans to take our lovely Italian friend to the Cuthbert Amphitheater for a night of brick walls and Pink Floyd. This all sounds like nonsense words to Buddha, ( Lovely, Italian, Cuthbert, Brick, Pink, Floyd) so I explain that it will all make sense once we get there.
He is dubious, that’s the way I would describe it: skeptical, doubt-filled, angst-ridden, ego-compromised, testosterone-challenged, promiscuously-pessimistic, anxiety-actuated,… yeah, yeah you get it… just like the focked-up British teenagers that all those psychedelic Pink Floyd songs were written for and about.
This could be perfect. I’ve got us tickets to see The Floydian Slips. A Pink Floyd tribute band.
Of course, of course, you can always say critical things about tribute bands. (Like: “If they’re so good why don’t they get their OWN music”) And I am sure that all the fantastic musicians in the Floydians have their own original performing songwriter gigs on the side of the road going to an alternative future. Yes, they are all certainly good enough for that, but together, doing interpretations of Pink Floyd? A great way to make a musical living. Unbeatable entertainment. Thank you Kesey Enterprises (local producer) for recognizing this.
Izabel (Monica Izabel Cappellini) my current pickle ball partner with an Italian passport and a German accent (this is all true, I cannot make stuff up this good) agrees to go with us, (if I buy the tickets and make dinner.) Since Buddha is always in a better mood when there is a super cute older woman around, I figure for once we are ALL going to have a good time AND all at the SAME time.
A perfect Saturday evening in a perfect August summer, we ride our bikes up stream along the Willamette River Bike Path. Valet bike parking included at the venue. A soft fleece blanket on the sloping lawn at the back of the Cuthbert, two glasses of a nice Oregon Pino Noir (Izabel’s favorite) , a friendly partner whispering Italian in my ear as I slip off to sleep…..
TWANG! BASS SHAKING BOOM, DRUM CRESCENDO….
“We don’t need no thought control”
Now fully awake, I take Izabel’s hand, nod my head at Buddha to follow closely, and in moments we have wound our way down to the gyrating crowd in front of the first row.
“No dark sarcasm in the classroom”
Buddha is jumping up and down, Izabel is shaking her lovely dark curls in a swirling figure eight, I am digging this, the crowd shouting out every word of the song…..A tremendous light show sparking over and around the band shell, the entire stage filled with fog and smoke…
“Hey! HEY! TEACHERS! Leave those kids alone…”
It was an excellent adventure, I can tell you that. The songs went on and on, the musicians brilliantly clear and precise and inspired by the long gone band named after Pink Anderson and Floyd Council. They did it all. Even a Sid Barret song.
Well, of course, the universe won’t allow us to have TOO much fun. The night was cut short by tree pollen and stage smoke. Inhalation of that heady combination ended up giving me a complete and utter respiratory fit of continuous sneezing. Buddha had to carry me out of the concert and to the parking lot one hell-bent sneeze after another.
Izabel retrieved the bikes. The night ended on a warm, spectacular, down-river ride home, Buddha smiling heavenly in his Nirvana way. Izabel smiling in Italian. Me, I was still still sneezing, (breathe, she said… breathe) pinching the sides of my nose to try to force the histamines to unclog themselves from my nasal passages. Reboot my nose. Flush my psyche. What a romantic dude eh?
All in all, Buddha says on the way home, It’s just another brick in the wall.
Yeah sure, (sneeze) I manage to say (sneeze)
Shine on you crazy diamond.
(sneeze)
(The following week I catch him signing us up for a course in Italian…)
