The Moment I Saved My Marriage
And there are two genuine miracles that became possible on that crap October day.
The night before, I had asked Fabienne for a separation from the dingy green room of the Theater of Living Arts in Philly. Then I wept. Very rock & roll.
I was on tour with Brad, playing big clubs filled with good people, and getting paid close to enough to cover my bills. On the way up this was the dream, but it was beginning to feel depressingly like the demise. I didn’t believe in the record we were supporting, and I was desperately seeking direction for my solo music during the dull moments between shows. Back in LA, Fabienne was taking care of our one- -and-a-half-year-old son, Miles, catching my calls from truck stops and lobbies, and listening for signs of hope. Who could blame her for being frustrated and disappointed? Apparently, I could.
I woke early the next morning, 10/26/02, in front of the 930 Club in DC; that’s the fun part, shutting your eyes and waking up someplace else. Stone and I stumbled through the dappled scent of stale pot with little threat of waking anyone, and caught a cab to the mall. I threw my voice into the pro peace chorus, focused my anger on harangues against the threatened invasion of Iraq, and hoped for signs of hope. I saw thousands upon thousands of caffeine-brave faces and cliché banners belying what I already knew: there was nothing we could do to prevent the war. As murderous, illegal, and absurdly costly at it would be, it was going to happen. And in that moment, I also remembered something my ex-manager, Bill Leopold, liked to say: “Control your controllables.” In spite of everything I smiled slightly; God can be such a deviously ironic dude when she wants to be. So I kicked the wet grass, pulled my Nokia non-media capable cell out of my pocket, and called Fabienne. I shouted over the DC protest din and the AM west coast fog, “Let’s work this out.” I guess I achieved some deeper conviction, because she agreed.
I’d love to report that everything has been rosy ever since, but you know better. Revelation is inevitably followed by reality. I tried to go straight and quit music, but that didn’t stick for long, thankfully. Fabienne and I are still working for our peace, and arguably still doing a better job than our country.
There are two genuine miracles that became possible on that crap October day. First, I began to understand that life is a lot more fun when you accept it on its terms; I still love to fight this notion, and indulge in a little sweet suffering, but I now know that winning is inevitably in the giving up. And the second miracle, the concrete evidence that this cosmic concept yields actual earthly result, is our son Ezra King, born 2/22/06, and playing war in the next room, making it sound impossibly beautiful as I type this word, in this moment.