It's a DMB kind of day

Dave, take me away.

I woke up with that infamous feeling of dread. You know that feeling. The feeling of dread. That ominous feeling that overcomes you and you have no idea why.

During the winter months, I expect to have several days of dread. Ohio winters suck. However, this year, it's been extremely mild and nothing to complain about. Mild or not, I'm ready for spring. And green. And driving with my windows down.

Today's dreadfest is not comforting in the least. So before clamoring out of my SUV to head into the office, I grabbed my CD case. I knew the Dave Matthews Band would soothe my soul and send me to places outside of the four gray walls of my office.

I have to admit, I didn't discover DMB until about four years ago. A few of my online buds sang Dave's praises so I decided to give DMB a whirl. I mean, sure, I was conscious of the effect Dave had on college campuses and I knew he had the kind of following that pseudomimicked the family of followers of the Grateful Dead. I was into those kind of crowds. Before Jerry passed away, I was fortunate enough to have been to a few Dead shows. Those were some of the happiest days of my life. I'll never define myself as much of a free spirit, but when I was in the presence of the deadheads, I was one of the them. I was alive. I was in touch with my inner existence. I was free of the burdens of life. Peace, love and tranquility, man.

I always liked DMB's music. I was a victim of mainstream radio, however. Dave emerged when I was exiting my college days and setting up shop as a productive citizen of society - i.e. first job that paid the bills (and student loans), first apartment, engagement, wedding planning, being a grown-up, etc. I knew of his top 40 hits but wasn't familiar with the darker, more intricate tracks. Thanks to my friends, I discovered these hidden gems and have been a DMB fan since. I see the irony in that I receive my spiritual guidance from Dave. I don't care. It needs to come from somewhere.

My sister is six years my junior so she was much more in tune with Dave and the merriment he brings. Her friends were all big DMB fans. Last summer, she went to Seattle to see one of her friends. My sister's daughter had to pee so they walked into this little off-the-beaten-path coffee shop so she could do her business. As they were standing there waiting, Dave came in. Donning a skull cap and blending in like everyone else, Dave was standing before her. She instantly recognized his familiarity, but wasn't sure. She looked at the coffee clerk and as if she read her mind, she said, "Yes, that's Dave Matthews. He's a regular." My sister freaked. She smiled and said hello, and he did the same. I'm sure Dave knew that he was recognized but my sister played it cool. She didn't do the star struck thing, she went about her business, although the smile on her face was about 10 miles wide. After their encounter, she called me. Of course I was screaming on the phone, "It's not fair, it's not fair! That should have been me!" In any case, I was happy she got some facetime with Dave. Like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon, I was two degrees away from Dave Matthews.

DMB went on tour this past summer and I went with my friend, my sister, her fiance and many of her friends. I was a DMB concert virgin. It was glorious. I had so much fun. It reminded me of the days of being at Dead shows. There was a comaraderie among the concert goers. I let it all go and soaked in every fabulous moment. I felt like I was 21 again. If I could capture that feeling in a bottle, I would, but I wouldn't market it, I'd keep it all to myself. I'm greedy like that. After that concert, I was glistening from the silver lining on Cloud 9 for several days.

So today, Dave is comforting me. And it's working. I'm feeling the funk dissipate. I'm getting perkier. Despite the snow that fell overnight, the sun is shining. Sure sign that spring is on it's way. DMB season awaits.

I'm only this far.
And only tomorrow leads my way.