Comfortably Numb

I have never been bereft of emotion when it comes to Phish. The time before tour and shows has always been filled with excitement and anticipation for the unknown. Will the band take me to that place few things in life have ever brought me to? Will I forge new friendships through the experience or further solidify existing ones? What one moment will I witness or share that will glimmer in an instant and making itself unique to only me?

There have been so many moments and memories etched into the fabric of my soul in the decade that this band has been so much a part of my life. And as I sit starring down the barrel of what may be the final two shows I’ll ever see, I’m confronted with feelings I’ve ever experienced before that is, a lack of feeling. I’m completely numb.

This anesthetized state relates back to the peace I made with the band at Shoreline in October 2000. I made the choice to view the hiatus as a break-up of sorts, a chance for me to focus on other things in my life without Phish influencing any of them. So, I got married, bought a house, started concentrating on my career and started to build my own little family. With a wife, dog and first child on the way, I’m well grounded on the path I set out to travel.

Phish coming back was merely icing on the cake for me. Those shows back became more about catching-up with old friends than getting my mind melted by the music the four guys from Vermont were raining down upon us. Which turned out to be a blessing, because, as we all know, that post-hiatus stuff was more bad than good.

But, because my band wasn’t bringing the life onstage that helped define part of me, I started to doubt the credibility of what I took from the music pre-hiatus. Was it really the party that created these moments for me? Ironically, it was in the party capital of world that I finally found my peace with modern-day Phish. Which was also the same run that was probably the catalyst for Phish pulling the plug on themselves.

When the confirmation came, like so many of us, I began scrambling to figure out which shows I could attend. The reality of it all ending proved to be the catalyst that sent me out to Wisconsin at the end of June. But in scrambling, I also realized the current older version of me decided to stay away from Coventry, choosing instead let my run end where it pretty much began, Great Woods.

When we bought our house, which rests a mere 15 minutes from Great Woods, almost three years ago, I couldn’t wait for Phish to return to the venue where it all took off, for them and me. I had visions of hosting all the friends I’ve accumulated through the band over the years in my yard for a big party. I had no idea it would turn out to be a send-off party.

Normally, I’d be in full-on planning mode right now to get ready for hosting people. But, I’m not. Sure, I’ve got some things ready for the makings of a great gathering, but I’m numb to the centerpiece of it all, the two shows.

If forced to name a specific emotion than I would have to say nervousness is the closest; nervous excitement I suppose. This is going to be the last time I get to hang with friends and the band and that has me worried. But as I started to worry about what the shows will be like for me and if I’ll provide my friends a good time, I started to realize I might drive myself crazy.

I’ve come close to mania on several occasions since Trey’s announcement, compounded by my impeding fatherhood and issues at work. Sitting at the beach the other day, on an usually cold August afternoon, I was humbled by the experience of nature and realized just what a small cog I am in the entire plan.

So, I’ve decided to try and let all anticipation float away, to not place any expectation on that 48-hour period. I’m just going to let it happen figuring they’ll be plenty of time to digest after the last note is played. I’ll be striving for those moments you capture by simply taking the time to press pause. They have always been the most meaningful to me because they are captured without preconceived thought. Those moments never end.