MonuMental

Back when I was half as young as I am now I had a friend who was a very talented musician, compulsive positive soul, and hilarious son-of-a-bitch. One of those people who just jumped in and started hanging out, the way you can only do when you’re 15, 16, and 17. He was a cool guy, had a girl, went to school, and kept his britches up. Honestly enough was life with him that years later I’m working out in the downtown YMCA and see him on the cover of Style Weekly. Old School Freight Train had formed itself from a few boys and one chanteuse who could saw horse hair as good as she could likely write.

“Good for them” I remember thinking.

Soon after I started seeing them play around town pretty often and saw an Old School Freight Train debut album in Plan 9’s Local section. A couple of friends were digging ’em too and so we had a number of good times driving up to an hour or so to see them at hippie venues, outdoor festivals, and random other settings.

It was a sunny morning in a Dutch town named Breda when I laid in bed and listened to their second album. To slow tones of the opening song “Runnnnnnnnnnn” are a heart warming parade of harmony to my heart still. The sounds later changed from the acoustic, new grass, celtic, jazz and soul covers, onto more developed sounds and instruments.

That was all around ’02 to ’06 more or less. Now there are 3 OSFT LP’s with an additional live gem of a various hits CD recorded from Ashland Coffee & Tea. Jesse spent the last few years playing more on solo ventures and explorative collaborations than with the original members. A few of which had come and gone at this point. In 2011 he still sees the gang but has launched a more independent identity and been interactive with his personal mailing list and social media pages. Last year I downloaded his first solo Jesse Harper And His Best Intentions album that was available early via download. Anyone who followed his links know that he only suggested you pay whatever you felt was appropriate.

That’s background up until two days ago.

I received an email from him this past July with “Help Me Make My Next Album” in the subject line. Kickstarter.com is a webpage that helps people raise funds for various purposes, so he was asking for donations that would allot him the opportunity to go to LA and record his next personal LP and had set up various packages and levels of contribution using its service. Everyone got a bear hug and a high-five, and depending on how much you put towards it, CD’s, downloads, tickets to shows, postcards, and even jam sessions. I think he probably sold a ton of people immediately somehow. His personality transferred through the communication clean as a whistle.

“From me to you:”

After having problems using the payment option where I can log on through my Amazon account and apply those settings to the kickstarter page Jesse and I ended up emailing and talking a refreshing number of time. It had been a while but he seemed identical to the man we used to call Guitar-zan back in the day. I hadn’t seen him in any real way for 5 or 6 years. Most of those years I missed 9 out of 10 shows just due to my work schedule but the touring schedule had become larger and larger. The second album was actually released on a label owned by David Grissman (a big deal) and they were playing coast to coast and knocking ’em out at some of the state’s largest music festivals.

They didn’t play here but every so often at that point.

Jesse’s email had reached and touched enough people to climb deep into the seat of success and the end was all but spoken for. He felt so good about it he opened up his home to everyone who contributed to the cause and made plans for a grand evening of high-fives and bear hugs.

I RSVP’ed.

It ended up being a grand old shindig born and bred from a two-way valve of generosity and gratitude. I met a friend of theirs on the porch who was bringing out cups to a little table on the front porch and then with perfect timing was greeted by Jesse’s wife Kate who peeked through the screen with a smile, stepped out with a “Hi! Are you WillyJac?”.

Funny.

That little ditty came from Jesse the first time we hung out way back when and stuck in an odd way over the years from people who knew both of us. He typically stuck to his guns on calling me that and mixed it up with WallyJac sometimes too.

She introduced and hugged and talked about how we’d probably met sometime before (Kate’s the same girl) and then as if on cue Jesse came out too. “Heyyyy”. Big hug and “What’s up WillyJAC”. They showed me around, I helped ’em set up and we all had a blast as we chipped and dipped through some of the most amazing Texas caviare and enchilada dip and washed it down with homemade margaritas. More specifically, his margarita is 100% fresh squeezed lime juice met by tequila and a jigger of Orange Patron.

Cinco de Mayo on Mars is probably only half this good.

Some of the people there were good friends, family, and a few were just big fans. The first ten or fifteen people who showed up I received a formal introduction to and realized quickly that one was just as open and talkative at the other. We all chatted around in different groups, inside and outside, and we all checked the laptop at varying intervals to see how high the funding had reached. It got “stuck” it seemed around $9,908 or so. Less than $100 from the goal. We all kind of knew it was gonna be taken care of. In between coming back to it we talked about Jesse’s music and how glad we were to see him supported by his listeners so he could continue on his chosen path as an acoustic creationist.

It was a high spirited group entirely.

Jesse had a funny sign reiterating his thanks, and suggesting we use the laptop freely to spread the word during the final hours of the project. He had a big parchment covering the desk that said “We are all part of One True Thing”, a heart, and markers to leave your signature and/or a message.

Mingling around gave Jesse chances to chat with other people as much as it gave other people a chance to say Hey to him.

When we’re young, guys bond a lot of the time of jokes and comedy and humor and riotousness, and I had always thought Jesse one of the most humorous people you could know. So after getting used to him telling people I was WillyJac and asking me why I don’t tell people that’s my name, he emphasized to the friend of his I had just met and says “Hey, so and so, you’ll like this. WillyJac here I knew back in the day and was an influence on like 90% of my sense of humor.” I’m not going to go on about it but that was a compliment I’d wear on a shirt. Awesome.

After, who knows how many, margaritas (little but amazing, every one) I had to head out. I had made a 2:20:00 mix recently that was perfect to give me something to rock out to for the trip there and the trip back. The road to Charlottesville was a crescendo of mind over a traveling body. The time at the house of an old friend held the course on a slow and steady elevation. The event as it was had no room for improvement. And though it was tough I headed back home and picked up where I left off on my tunes made and mixed for a road trip. Windows down, sun roof open. The night was nice and just cool enough.

A ways down 64 I thought, “I was right.”

I had thought on the way down about how I was probably at the time heading to something I was always going to think back on and smile.

Smile.

Think a little more about it.

And smile.

It was good to know myself and so many others had tried to help an incredibly appreciative person.

and that “One True Thing”

was going to happen.