a friend in deed, a friend in need.

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dateline: oZposure

18 november 1996 9:58 p.m.

The weather actually let up yesterday (though it's raining again now), and I was so thrilled to see blue skies I actually pulled myself out of my cave to spend some time on the beach. Halfway down the street, hopping over puddles, I realized that sun didn't neccessarily equal warmth, and when I stepped through cold, mushy sand to test even colder water, I deemed a long overdue swim to be out of the question. I tried to walk along the beach, but my slippers kept throwing little clods of what might as well have been gritty snow at my back. I eventually resigned my day outdoors to be a sidewalk-only affair. When I got down to the Duke (a huge statue of local surfer god Duke Kahanamoku which has its back absurdly turned toward the ocean), I found a not-totally-wet patch of grass and sat. I lost myself for over an hour just watching people, the ocean... Doing nothing is really something I should do more often. The sun wasn't anywhere near going down, but it was getting chilly, so I headed home. I had my chuckle of the week when I found myself weaving through a flock of Japanese women, all proudly swinging bright yellow "Wonderbra" bags. When evening rolled around, I took off for Project One of my new "Be a Better Friend" campaign -- going to see Greg perform with the UH choir and symphony at St. Andrews. I was invited, but in typically snippy Greg fashion -- "I bet you won't come, but if you're interested, call 95-MUSIC." Gladly misinterpreting his message as a desperate cry for attention, I figured I'd surprise the guy. Besides, I love the St. Andrews Cathedral. The sheer majesty of the place could turn anyone Catholic (though it's technically Episcopalian -- a.k.a. Catholic Lite). Of course, I wouldn't be me if I got there on time. I tiptoed in probably fifteen minutes into the concert (and I'm pretty sure I was supposed to pay to get in, but I came in the wrong door). The atmosphere was just enchanting. This cathedral has great architecture -- huge vaulted ceiling, the thick pillars, the stained glass, the works. The orchestra was playing. Lots of strings, a flawless trumpet solo; just the way it filled the cathedral, that echo that no expensive stereo could ever recreate, closing my eyes I was swimming in the music. When the orchestra moved out and a choir filed onto the stage, I panicked a second -- Greg, nor a couple of other people he'd said would be there, was nowhere to be seen. Frantic, I borrowed a program from a very nice man who -- it would later turn out -- would never see his program again. The thing was folded weirder than a Chinese paper puzzle, but after I figured it out I realized that a whole bunch of groups from UH were performing in different combinations, the last of which being the one I was there for. Sure enough, The Sour One himself appeared -- buttoned up in a dress shirt, replete with bow tie -- with probably a hundred other decked-out crooners. He looked totally different... like he was sixteen and at a prom. So cute, I couldn't help but laugh. They did Durufle's "Requiem," and it was absolutely awesome. They even hooked up the pipe organ for the piece, and with its huge sound, on top of the chorus and the drums and strings and brass, it made me cry. I just closed my eyes the whole way through, only peeking briefly to see Greg with his mouth opened in a perfect "O." The "Requiem" they performed had a very somber, pensive closing movement... I didn't expect it to end where it did. I'm still deeply attached to Verdi's (and even like Webber's), but I'm half tempted to get a recording of this one. The evening didn't entirely work out, though. After the piece was over and everyone walked off the stage, I couldn't find Greg. I got to say hello to a few past classmates (the names of whom I mostly forgot, but I did say hello), but I think the man dug out straight after the show. So, let my karma record show, I was a better friend for at least one night... but said friend doesn't know it. (You reading this, Greg? Dammit, I missed X-Files for you!) It was still great, though. I can't wait for New Year's and "First Night" now. They always have pipe organ performances at St. Andrew's, which is a wonderful sanctuary after squeezing through a city-sized mob of people dancing to a few dozen rock bands.