Stand By Me

While shopping at Ontario Mills Mall with my brother, we stopped by Sam Ash Music. The store is essentially a giant toy store for musicians. I could spend an entire afternoon banging on drums, strumming a guitar, or just dancing in the DJ accessories section.
















When we first walked into the store, I saw this couple. The girlfriend patiently waited with her boyfriend as he tested numerous amps for his bass. This bassist was for real: he brought his own bass to the store to test the amps.

Even though this musician was obviously talented, the girlfriend looked annoyed and somewhat frustrated as exemplified by her crossed arms and perturbed face. This couple was so well-established that even his masterful manipulation of the bass strings was familiar to the point of boring. She leaned on a box, not quite in a sitting position, because she wanted to hover over her boyfriend hurrying him along in his purchase.

But the bassist ignored her—not in the rude way, but in the immersed-in-his-passion-for-music way. He strummed the same note over and over fiddling with the balance nobs. He played entire songs seeing if his bass and his amp were a good couple. He went back and forth at least three times among at least five different amps. And all the while, the girlfriend stood by his side, visibly annoyed but lovingly patient.

I wonder how many times in my life I have immersed myself in a passion and forgotten the object of my affection. Like the bassist, this is not out of maliciousness but simply out of passion. But I concede: there must be a compromise between passion and patience.

For you who kissed me goodnight while I was playing Halo 3. For you who listened to me prattle on endlessly about Shakespeare and Hemingway. For you who played my favorite song on the piano. For you who drew me pictures. For you who held my hand when my 360 broke. For you who let me read you poetry, play you music, or sing you songs...

Thank you.

Though we may not be together now because of bigger reasons, you stood by me through my little passions in life. And as the brilliant Sherlock Holmes said, "The little things are infinitely the most important."