“Before all of this ever went down In another place, another town”
Let’s go back to July 4, 1992. I was living in Columbus, Ohio. I had just gotten hired the prior week at Express DC but I hadn’t started work yet. I was spending the weekend in Chicago with my boyfriend, who was not Larry, and we were attending the Taste of Chicago festival in downtown Chicago. We had gotten into a fight and so I went for a walk by myself. While I was walking along the waterfront and people watching I noticed some random guy riding his bike, but not on the sidewalk, on the beach. I watched for a while laughing as he struggled trying to ride a bike in the sand. I was just happy to have the distraction from the fight I had with my BF and continued walking after a while.
“Out in the street walking around A face in the crowd”
Now fast forward to sometime in September of 1992. I was working at Express DC and Larry was working in the same department as I was. I had only been working there for a couple of months and Larry had only been in my department for a couple of weeks, so we were still just getting to know each other. The subject of Chicago came up because Larry really loved Chicago, after all it was his kind of town, and because I had really enjoyed my recent visit there. During our chat he was telling me about his recent visit to Chicago for the, you guessed it, Taste of Chicago. He had gone with a roommate and stayed with a friend of his roommates, who had let him borrow a bike to ride downtown. He continued to tell me how he ended up riding in the sand because there were so many people he had no other choice. As he continued to talk about the struggles of riding in the sand, I burst out laughing. He gave me a weird look, as one does when they don’t know what the joke is yet, as I tried to explain to him that I was pretty sure, like 99.99% sure, that I had witnessed his struggle that day. We laughed, together this time, about what a small world it was.
“Out of a dream, out of the sky Into my heart, into my life”
Now we will fast forward to Fall/Winter of 2016. I was making Larry a new playlist for a trip to our house in Kansas that we had purchased in August of that year so this was our first visit in the winter. As I was listening to songs to add to the playlist this song started playing and I had a complete breakdown, lucky for me I was staying late at work working on this project before we left for our trip, so I was alone at my desk when I lost it. All those years later, thinking back to the randomness of it all, and faced with the fact that had I made a different choice Larry could have always been a face in the crowd for me was more than I could handle. It’s so hard to imagine life being any different than the way it turned out and while no one knows what life might have been like if different choices were made, I do know for sure what I would have missed out on and that thought is heartbreaking.
The following is the original write-up from 2016:
I don’t know if I can ever convey to you the actual physical aching I feel in my heart when I hear this song. When I went to print the lyrics I couldn’t believe how few there really were because this songs makes me feel so much. To think back to when you were “just a face in the crowd” makes me so sad and lonely that the emotions are overwhelming. “Out of a dream, out of the sky into my heart, into my life. And you were just a face in the crowd.”
Larry’s Perspective:
Honestly, this is a quiet, reflective song. I've previously discussed the string of fate theory and this story lends itself to that. Also, it might be worth revisiting My Kind of Town for additional Chicago context.
On July 4th, 1992 I found myself in Chicago with my best friend Aaron and our roommate Chris. Chris had friends who had invited us to celebrate the 4th and do Taste of Chicago native style.
Things went ok, but honestly Aaron and I didn't fit into their crowd very well. And they just wanted to hang out in their apartment (which was actually pretty large and sweet - think old school fire station turned into a massive apartment). You'd have to know Aaron to understand why, but he was doing everything he could to just fit in. That's not me. To quote Surly Duff from the Simpsons: "Surly only looks out for one guy; Surly".
So I asked one of our hosts if I could borrow a bike and just ride down to Lakeshore Drive. Side note: My Freshman and Sophomore years of high school I was pretty chubby and wore glasses. My Junior year I really became interested in cycling due to the Tour de France - and so my Junior and Senior years I did a lot of cycling - lost weight and started wearing contacts. I'm like the poster child for any 80's movie where the nerd transforms and becomes the cool kid.
Anyway, so I take a bike and head out. And maybe that's why I love motorcycling so much - I love to be alone, I love to explore new places solo and I love the freedom of feeling directly connected to my surroundings.
Here's where the story takes a curious turn. As I'm riding the sidewalk along the lake, I decide why not just head out to the water and relax a little bit. So I pick a spot and launch off of the sidewalk towards the water. "Landing" directly into sand. By "landing" I mean the front tire buries itself into the sand and launches me directly over the handlebars. So not one of my more graceful moments.
To Shannon, I was just "A Face in the Crowd".
Oh - didn't I mention Shannon was in Chicago at the same time? With her boyfriend? When we actually didn't even know each other yet? And she will swear until her dying day that she witnessed some idiot flip off of his bike into the sand along Lakeshore Drive on July 4th, 1992.
I'm not really sure when Shannon and I realized we were in Chicago on the same day, and then when I was actually humble enough to share my biking disaster story. And her realization that she actually saw me in all my Tour de Chicago wipeout glory.
I'm sure Shannon will share how few lyrics there are in this song, but how powerful it is nonetheless.
If Shannon says she saw me that day, in a city neither of us were from or lived in and the randomness of the universe put us there - I believe her. In the span of time, July 4th 1992 is just a hop, skip and a jump until we actually meet each other in September, 1992. Reading her perspective is definitely worth a visit...
P.S. Yes, that is an original Hard Rock New York sweatshirt I got in NYC along with a SWATCH Watch. And prior to Christian Slater being my hero, I'm channeling my inner Alex P. Keaton in the other Senior Pic.
Ghost of a Chance 