"It's all happening."

I'm in a plane with Cameron Crowe and it's going down and we're all about to die. I start freaking out, my mind riffing on my last thought provoking more intense, even more real thoughts as the concept of time and space seems to be ripping like the very fabric of the plane's exterior itself. And I'm thinking about Crowe's films and his scripts and it occurs to me that I never told him how much they mean to me. What can you say at a time like this? Can you take it back once you do say it? When my mind hops to "Almost Famous," words just start pouring out of my mouth like "masterpiece" and "insightful" and "precious" and "solid." I don't know if he can even hear me with the banging of the plane making a huge din as it rips through the sky at an enormous speed careening about pockets of air. The clatter of the hull creaking and clanking as I speak is surely drowning out anything of value or relevance or importance that I can say.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today."

It was the 70's. The time was so important. Have we idealized it? I don't think so. We look back on it now with fondness and reverence because we came so close to finding it all out. The drugs and the sex and the freedom and the violence and the death. We were ripping apart the fabric of time and of space ourselves. Within ourselves. We were growing up. We were learning. We turned on and tuned out but that only helped us to realize what we'd missed when we came to. What a great time to be alive. Alive. Really alive. It was all happening. The music. The music.

What happened to that music? It's not simply oldies station fodder now. It can't be. We return to it. It haunts us.

"I'm waiting for my man..."

Desperate times. Desperate angels. That music meant something. It had relevance. It was important. When was the last time you heard a song that actually said something? That actually had a meaning? The band Stillwater may just be a rather drab sort of amalgamation of Bad Company, Jethro Tull, Humble Pie, and Free; but their music still rocks. It still means something.

"I am a golden God."

The power of it all. Headlong into the pool we divebomb. The fans and kids look on with real wide eyed wanting. What is going to happen next? Anything could happen. It's all happening. The music is cranked. The drugs are flowing. The alcohol is rushing through the scene. Sex and pot and lust and lipstick is everywhere. The kids want him so bad. Their eyes lust for him. His voice. His knowledge. His dreams. They want to know that someone is dreaming the same thing they are dreaming. There is a comfort in that. Your feelings validate my feelings.

"I'm in tune... Right in tune... I'm in tune... and I'm gonna tune right in on you..."

Don't let them co-opt it man. Don't let the bankrupt system of the industry of cool stick their nose in it. They will harsh it. They will sell it to the highest bidder. There is a fine line between fame and product, between personality and merchandise. Between a fan and his God. Believe the hype but don't ever believe the HYPE! This music is of the man, for the man, and by the man. But he who makes the music is a golden God. Is above the world. Is a man. Is more than a man.

"Fame. Half your life is in the limo. Fame. What you get is no tomorrow."

"Almost Famous."

If you remember the 70's, you should make a movie about it. Cameron Crowe did. It's a masterpiece. It's real and honest and hopeful and sorrowful and beautiful and truthful. It's full of life and the joy of life and the power of life. And the magic of it all.

On that plane, flying through the blue sky of my imagination, I look at Cameron and he looks at me and the plane begins to settle and the captain comes on the speakers and says... "Looks like we're gonna make it..." Cameron winks. It's all happening. I close my eyes. The last refrain of the last song on side two of Stillwater's third album plays out... and ends... and I welcome the darkness and the peace that it brings.

"There's hope for you yet..." I hear someone's mother say...

It's all happening. Right here. Right now. This moment. Grab it. Live it. Push it to it's limit. It's real. It's honest. It's pure. It's now.

"Perhaps your smiling now. Smiling through this darkness. But all I have to give is guilt for dreaming...

"We should be on by now..."

The houselights dim and the kids go crazy. The band - their band - comes onto the stage.

"We're an American Band. We're an American Band. We're coming to your town. We'll help you party down. We're an American band."

And the band played on...

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