It’s funny what a few cocktails and a song will do. The brain vomits old memories that had been buried deep down, just waiting for another sip of vodka to blast out of their cells. It is up to the song to decide if it is going to destroy you, or make you smile. I can’t listen to that one because it reminds me of that person, I can’t listen to that other because it reminds me of that. But this song…. this song I can do.
Much of my writing revolves around Asia for a reason. Nothing has done as much for my life, or likely ever will, as my time there. I am young, I am still (and may always be) dumb, but I know enough that some experiences shape you for a lifetime. There’s something about meeting someone who could be your best friends 10,000 miles away from home that cannot be replicated, or explained until it is experienced for oneself. The fact that no one back in that distant abode will ever know, or ever care, about the times you had makes it all the better. Those experiences are known to you, and you only.
I don’t know why the song popped in my head. One can never know why memories show up when they do. But when they do, they can’t be shooed away. They can’t be silenced. I burst off of the couch and rushed toward the computer. I had to hear it. Instantly I was taken back to Chiang Mai. To lady boy cabaret, the greatest show on earth. And it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I turn to my right and Robert is matching my off-pitch wailing word for word. I turn to my left and Khriste is crying in joy. We had known each other for 12 hours, and we would leave each other forever in the next 24, but we lived a lifetime during those 5 minutes.
I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for that turn to the right, and that turn to the left. And that beautiful lady boy.
(Yes, that’s a boy in that picture. No, it’s not the one with the amazing voice)