My Only Request

I remember the first time Dan ever played the guitar for me. He was sitting on my couch just picking out whatever songs the muscles in his fingers could remember. Some Dave Matthews, CSN (and sometimes Y), Willy Porter and some original tunes. Then that day last April he started playing “Here Comes the Sun.” And I had a Moment®.

Those little burning spikes of sorrow that were always stabbing at the backs of my eyes mixed with a big, old, bubbling well o’ happy. Part of it was the joy of unexpectedly hearing a favorite song,but the rest of it was Dan. Life had been so bad for so long. Divorce was my winter, and it all felt so…so perpetual. For two years I opened my eyes to dread every morning, and then suddenly it was all right. And “all right” might sound kind of boring or feel a little like mediocrity for some, but for me “all right” will always be another way to say “inimitable joy.”I pretty much fell in love with him by “Sun, sun, sun, here it comes…”

“You know,” I told him later, “George Harrison was a genius. He will always be my favorite Beatle.”"Don’t say that too loudly,” he laughed. “In the wrong company, that kind of talk will get you killed.”So now, every time Dan picks up one of his guitars, I ask him to play “Here Comes the Sun.” I guess now he’ll know why.