I understood and suffered jealously these changes in him, but stopped

paying attention when he started doing lots and lots of drugs. I graduated

from St. Ann's, went to college, bragged about knowing this kid in this band

that was going to be famous. My brother reluctantly lent me the Hysterics

demo, and shrugged in response to any question of Oliver.

When I saw him this afternoon, I was immediately disarmed. I sat down with

Oliver and Cam, uncomfortable in the freezing room and the conversational

paralysis brought on by my company. “I really wanna hang out with you, Kate,”

said Oliver. “I haven't seen you in so long.” He demanded that we put on a live

recording of Sly & The Family Stone at Woodstock. My brother left the room.

“Sly was pretty consistent live, but this recording is just amazing,” he said, selecting

his favorite song as he knelt over Cam’s stereo. “They were playing at 3 in the

morning, on the last day, and Sly was just keeping everyone awake. Maybe I'm

reading too much into it, but I think he was always a prophet, and the way he sings

here - it's like he can see the trouble ahead, you can hear it. He knew about

Altamont, the shootings - he was trying to tell them, but they were all just

dancing – can you hear that sorrow in his voice?” I did my best impression of

someone who understood what was being said. I closed my eyes to avoid eye

contact as we listened to the music, and murmured with conviction whenever

he pointed out a particularly oracular moment in the song. Finally I thought of

something to say.

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