‘Wake up, it’s the light of day outside!’ my youngest used to say as she jumped on the bed in the morning. I sat up a little too quick, and had the feeling that the room may have been rolling ever so slightly from side to side. Surely I must have imagined it. There was something a bit odd going on though.

A few minutes later I’m shuffling down the hall, and out of nowhere a garbled announcement. Something about a forward lounge. What? Then it suddenly hits me that I have no idea where I am. A hotel hallway? Last night there was nothing out of the ordinary. A gig? Home to bed. A dream? What the…

Folks seemed to be sauntering by, dressed in beachwear Hawaiian shirts. Very relaxed. I follow them to the end of the hallway, around a corner, and we come out to a very large dining room. Light is streaming in, and I squint in my half awake stupor, taking in the scene. There are buffet tables covered with seafood, waffles, fruit, a waiter making cappuccinos. A bearded fellow passes by with a straw hat and an umbrella drink eyeing a young lady walking the other way in a halter top, painted in zebra stripes. There’s a guy who looks like Bob Dylan dressed all in black chatting very earnestly with a tall distinguished fellow… Ornette Coleman? Something about phrasing. Is it really him?

Another indecipherable announcement, something about the pool being open. Then I see Aubrey, sitting at the far side in a corner booth, with a large chap in a captain’s hat and blue uniform. They have a pot of tea, croissants, and are hunched over maps spread out on the table. If there’s anyone who will know what’s going on it’s Aub. He’s the one who’s going to have a plan! He’ll be figuring out what’s going on, where we’re going, what’s the next step. He’s the one that will just ‘happen’ to know the captain, from that trip with “Blood” way back when they were traveling to Europe for a festival in Cannes or something. Suddenly the two of them are laughing and Aub has a big grin, so I know that things are chilled and we’re going to be okay. I really need a caffeinated beverage, and turning to the left, lo and behold, it’s the one and only Ian DeSouza. He’s stylish as always, coffee in hand. Ian can look hip in a t-shirt and cutoffs, and this morning it’s a camo shirt, an earring that he must have nabbed off a pirate, and a Blue Jays cap. “Hey man, try the flat white, it’s happening.”

“Ian, where are we?” The man, as I’ve come to know, is a very good listener, quick to assess a situation, and he’ll have an angle on it that I would have never come up with. And funny. Damn.

“Check out the elevator… every floor is ’13.’

Just then I notice that there’s been music playing. Somewhat incongruous for the situation. A Living Colour tune off the new one, ‘Shade’, (“you gotta be who you are…”) and now The Punch Brothers (“she said hey – you’re gonna like this”).

Suddenly there’s commotion. A yelp! I turn and see Vernon! He’s wearing a suit that’s all math equations! The jacket, the pants, a vest. Even the tie has math equations on it! There’s a crowd around him. He seems to be introducing an elderly Asian gentleman to a group of German tourists with cameras in hand. “Dr. Wu is a Mahlerian”What? Didn’t I just read that in a book by Malcolm…

Vernon sees me and nods, then goes back to holding forth. Now it seems he’s talking about the history of voting rights in the south. Something to do with the Pole Tax. Systemic discrimination. He quotes from ‘Here Comes the Right’. I flash back to the day that Ted Quinlan and I saw Living Colour open for the Stones, and they were just on fire! Vernon tearing it up. OMG! (L.C. were a hard act to follow, but the Stones were great in a different way). And Living Colour – they’re still doing it. Brilliant, artful, virtuosos, politically outspoken, heavy as all get out. Those guys are really something!

“Hello?” “You need someone to sub in to the gig down the hall?” “I’m not sure if I could find an amp and my rig… what’s that?” “A Celtic thing?” “Mandolin?” “Hey I’m really not very good at that.” “You heard me in the show? Yes, but I’m really more of a jazz/rock guitar player.” “No – electric guitar.” “Maybe call back in a year and I’ll work on learning the tunes. I dig it, but I’d have to learn the tunes.” “And I’m in a dressing gown.”

Out of the corner of my eye there’s a small blue flashing light. Aubrey has come over. “Hey man, that’s the signal. Remember? It’s time to hit. They need us.” “Onwards and upwards!”

Next thing I know the four of us are walking in slow motion (hey it’s harder than it looks) across the tarmac. We’ve got the pilot suits on and the helmets under one arm, guitars slung over the other shoulder. We’re together. We can do this. We’ll soon be flying information. On a mission from God. To save the Universe. I’m still wearing the dressing gown. Aub’s ‘How Much Longer’ is thundering out of the huge stadium sound system, his drums a deep pocket of everywhere, Ian’s bass, so focused and nasty! And the guitars…

“Wake up, it’s the light of day outside.” Our little one is jumping on the bed as my wife draws the blinds. “Good morning my love, I need some help getting the kids off to school and I think the van has a flat tire. Did you pick up the milk on the way home last night?”