up. When I reread the conference’s home page I realize this conference was held between held between May 23rd to the 25 th , prior to the weekend. Dead end.
I continue to hit the back arrow and click on other conferences that pop up for that weekend in Chicago, Illinois. The only other viable one that does appear to work would be the Association for Psychological Science. I click on the 2012 convention coverage and again, scan the pictures posted on the site from the conference. There’s a picture of the keynote speaker, another of the editor of the Psychological Science journal and even a shot of the smashing Saturday ballroom entertainment provided by some famous bass player and ‘musically gifted’ psychological science students. Caroline’s name isn’t anywhere to be found. I understand that she could have just been an attendee at the conference so her name wouldn’t necessarily be posted on the convention page. But before I pat myself on the back for making a very minute lead in finding her, it hits me that the conference I attended last weekend isn’t showing up either when I do the search. Simple reason for that; my conference was held just outside of Chicago in an area called St. Charles, Illinois. That said, there are dozens of places Caroline’s conference could have been held, the proverbial needle in the haystack, so I decide to close off this search.
As I walk back to the kitchen to drop off my empty espresso cup, I get a flash of a story that I overheard Cate, my secretary, telling the receptionist about recently at work. The story goes that some guy met a girl in London while he was sitting at an outdoor piano in honor of the Queen’s Jubilee celebrations. The two of them hit it off but when it was time for the girl to leave, the guy didn’t get her number or email address. His friends who were with him at the time took a picture on one of their phones of the girl’s back while she was sitting at a piano beside their friend. To help their friend out, these guys posted her picture on Tumblr asking if anyone could help them locate the girl.
I jump back on my computer and search for that story. The account was called “Ferry Girl Story” and in the Tumblr feed, there are a number of people who comment negatively and positively on the guy’s efforts at trying to find the girl. One person even posted a speculation that the girl would end up being a lesbian when or if he finally did find her. Caroline could possibly be gay .
Alas, the “Ferry Girl” story has a happy ending. After setting up many social media accounts and an email address completely dedicated to locating “Ferry Girl,” the guy did end up finding her. To make a long story short, the power of social media made it happen. Knowing that, the question I have for myself , is why am I so freaking hesitant to use it?
I shut down my computer, take my iPad with me and go to sleep.
5 “Seasons In The Sun”
To these lyrics in my head I wake up on this sunny Sunday morning in June. The third anniversary of Danny’s death. If ever there was a song written for someone, Terry Jack’s ‘Seasons in the Sun’ has my name written all over it. A few months after Danny died, I walked into my parents’ place one day and this song was playing in the background. It stopped me in my tracks.
Out of bed now, I make my way over to my answering machine and hit the rewind button.
Beep .
“ Hey Eric, it’s me. I tried reaching you on your cell but it must be turned off. The tux place called . . . our tuxes will be ready on Thursday . . . I’ll pick up yours when I go get mine. See you Thursday night at the rehearsal dinner. Talk to you later. Beep .”
I never did talk to Danny later. He died the next day. This recording is all I have left of him. I play it over and over again every year on the anniversary of his death. But only on June 3 rd can I brace myself for the pain of listening to his voice on my machine. Maybe that’s why
I continue to hit the back arrow and click on other conferences that pop up for that weekend in Chicago, Illinois. The only other viable one that does appear to work would be the Association for Psychological Science. I click on the 2012 convention coverage and again, scan the pictures posted on the site from the conference. There’s a picture of the keynote speaker, another of the editor of the Psychological Science journal and even a shot of the smashing Saturday ballroom entertainment provided by some famous bass player and ‘musically gifted’ psychological science students. Caroline’s name isn’t anywhere to be found. I understand that she could have just been an attendee at the conference so her name wouldn’t necessarily be posted on the convention page. But before I pat myself on the back for making a very minute lead in finding her, it hits me that the conference I attended last weekend isn’t showing up either when I do the search. Simple reason for that; my conference was held just outside of Chicago in an area called St. Charles, Illinois. That said, there are dozens of places Caroline’s conference could have been held, the proverbial needle in the haystack, so I decide to close off this search.
As I walk back to the kitchen to drop off my empty espresso cup, I get a flash of a story that I overheard Cate, my secretary, telling the receptionist about recently at work. The story goes that some guy met a girl in London while he was sitting at an outdoor piano in honor of the Queen’s Jubilee celebrations. The two of them hit it off but when it was time for the girl to leave, the guy didn’t get her number or email address. His friends who were with him at the time took a picture on one of their phones of the girl’s back while she was sitting at a piano beside their friend. To help their friend out, these guys posted her picture on Tumblr asking if anyone could help them locate the girl.
I jump back on my computer and search for that story. The account was called “Ferry Girl Story” and in the Tumblr feed, there are a number of people who comment negatively and positively on the guy’s efforts at trying to find the girl. One person even posted a speculation that the girl would end up being a lesbian when or if he finally did find her. Caroline could possibly be gay .
Alas, the “Ferry Girl” story has a happy ending. After setting up many social media accounts and an email address completely dedicated to locating “Ferry Girl,” the guy did end up finding her. To make a long story short, the power of social media made it happen. Knowing that, the question I have for myself , is why am I so freaking hesitant to use it?
I shut down my computer, take my iPad with me and go to sleep.
5 “Seasons In The Sun”
To these lyrics in my head I wake up on this sunny Sunday morning in June. The third anniversary of Danny’s death. If ever there was a song written for someone, Terry Jack’s ‘Seasons in the Sun’ has my name written all over it. A few months after Danny died, I walked into my parents’ place one day and this song was playing in the background. It stopped me in my tracks.
Out of bed now, I make my way over to my answering machine and hit the rewind button.
Beep .
“ Hey Eric, it’s me. I tried reaching you on your cell but it must be turned off. The tux place called . . . our tuxes will be ready on Thursday . . . I’ll pick up yours when I go get mine. See you Thursday night at the rehearsal dinner. Talk to you later. Beep .”
I never did talk to Danny later. He died the next day. This recording is all I have left of him. I play it over and over again every year on the anniversary of his death. But only on June 3 rd can I brace myself for the pain of listening to his voice on my machine. Maybe that’s why
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