The nervousness he wakes up turns any man into a baby.
You find yourself imagining crucial encounters, shakes of hands, questions asked but… what to ask him?
He who has answered so much and who has been asked so many.
There’s nothing you could ask or say that he hasn’t already heard.
It would be better to close the mouth you unconsciously opened, and burn the moment onto the back of your eyes.
I hurried myself, like a fresh new bride trying to get before her man, just to see him arrive with a smile on her face and say "I was here first darling". At least I’d be "first" than him once in my life.
After all, this was a date; like with everything regards him, it’s always personal.
You’re surrounded by thousands of people yet it’s only him and you, there’s no barrier, no nothing in between.
And it’s funny how my sit was so small I could barely fit in, I looked at the ones who were going to share this with me and said "only him could bring people together like this and make them don’t care about comfort", the four of us laughed.
It seemed like we were going to be together, really close.
I saw al kinds of reactions, the ones that spoke aloud on their globalized cell phones "yeah, it’s about to start m’friend, we’re all here", the ones that looked down, onto their own feet, like praying, and so concentrated that it appeared to be some Buddhist reunion. Those nervous ones, unable to sit down, always standing and bouncing to all sides. The ones that peeped all the time, always trying to see something on the stage before the rest, those are the ones that always confuse people by letting go some little screams and making everybody think he’s there; all the heads turning and no sign of the man.
I saw all reactions, smiles, silent whispers, laughter, hugs, kisses, hands shaken, friends reuniting, it was a communion of feelings, all of the feeling human have were there, and we were all swimming into some big human soup.
I opened up; ready to let everything he wanted to give in. I wanted to breathe all those things into myself so I would never forget how it felt.
The lights went down and the heart jumped.
There he was, the living man had poured himself outta my books, albums and outta my very own mind onto the Velez Sarsfield Stadium.
How had he done that?
He had always been just an image printed somewhere, I couldn’t really tell if he was real…
Like a little kid discovering some important truth, I realized he was real.
And then, so were all the things he had whispered into my ear so many late and dark nights. His words were more vivid and real than ever.
He was a prestidigitator, the best one I had ever seen. He could turn my feelings and I upside down with just a combination of words, with the symmetry of his lyrics and the blood always spilled all over them.
I felt small, and huge.
I felt ashamed and courageous.
And it happened, there I was right in front of him, he looked at me thru the blue of his eyes and grinned.
He wasn’t really looking at me, he wasn’t really there.
I managed to walk towards him and raised my hand; he looked up, not saying anything, looking right to my eyes.
I could see my own heart there, on a plate, still beating.
- Hello – I said.
He smiled.
- I don’t think there’s anything I can really say, or want to say. I don’t think anything I say is going to impact you like I was impacted by you, so I’m not going to say anything, I just want to grab your hand, look thru your eyes and silently make you realized how purely thanked I am – I said in one big breath.
So I did. I grabbed his hand, it was warm.
I put it onto my own palm and looked at it.
I thought of how many roads that hand had traveled and how many people it had touched how many lives it had changed.
He looked at my hand, he grabbed it and said:
- Your hand’s like mine, almost the same size.
- I have my father’s hands - I said.
- Then I must have known your mother… – he said in a funny tone.
I smiled thinking of what my dad would have to say about that.
- You have impacted me, just like you said I impacted you. We’re even now.
And he was gone.
Like a blurry memory of some childhood time where you can’t tell dreams from reality he had walked away.
Once more I was left speechless.
A succession of tunes and chords flew thru the air, you could feel them floating in and out of people.
And he made me a believer.
Music could change the world, even though if he didn’t believe it anymore, I saw it with my own eyes. People weren’t thinking about the differences but melting onto each other into one big crowd of hungry ears eager to believe.
Hoping to see beyond.
It gave me hope, maybe not everything is lost.
Maybe our generation can still be saved.
Maybe just telling our feelings, speaking about our pain out loud can make a difference, just like he did.
That was all he ever did, he talked, he told stories, he’s no legend, he’s just an honest man. Maybe that’s what we need, to get honest, firstly to ourselves.
And like he came, he was gone.
Nothing said, there was nothing to be said.
No goodbyes.
How could you depart from something that’s attached to you so much?
You can never say goodbye to something that never leaves.
And when thank you is not enough, just open your hand; you never know who might grab it on the other side.
I extend my hand to you once more Bob.
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