Waite and See
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I recently watched the Netflix miniseries Missing You, which is based on one of the many books written by the demonically productive author.
I absolutely love Eighties music, and this song is emblematic of the time. I remember seeing the video on NBC’s Friday Night Videos and then hearing it again on a new crime drama that debuted in ‘84 called Miami Vice.
It was the second episode of the slickly produced program entitled “Heart of Darkness”, which featured a pre-Al Bundy Ed O’Neill as undercover FBI agent who got too deep into his role as a gangster.
The episode opens with “Missing You” playing over a sweeping shot of the Miami waterfront and if memory serves—and it very well may not--I was watching it the home of one my sister’s friends.
“This looks like a rock video,” our hostess said as soon as the song came on.
Little did we know how hot Miami Vice would become and how the show would make such extensive use of the top songs of the day.
“Missing You” reached No. 1 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and the top ten on the UK singles chart.
“I was singing about New York, and distance, the caving in of my marriage, and the options that I had,” Waite said in a 2014 interview. “It was bittersweet – it was about the end of my marriage and the beginning of something new. Although, when I was singing 'I ain't missing you', it was denial too.”
Oh, yeah, that denial comes through loud and clear, and it gives the song so much of its power.
All These Tears Later
All of this got me to thinking about John Waite and what he’s been up to since the Age of Crockett and Tubbs.
So, I googled him up and learned to my shock and dismay that John Waite was alive and hopefully well and 72 freaking years old.
Why wasn’t I informed? And, more importantly, how old does that make me?
I’m two years and change from hitting the Big Seven-Oh—Good Lord willing and my cholesterol don’t rise—but I’d much rather pretend I’m still back in the days of neon outfits, unstructured jackets and skinny ties.
The song still stirs a lot of emotion after all these years, if the YouTube comments are any indication.
“Take Me Back To The 80's When Life Wasn't So Complicated,” one person wrote.
“Still a WOW song all these tears later,” somebody else noted.
“A time when there were still morals and happy endings,” another comment read. “A time when we celebrated being youthful because we all knew it was a season and that too would pass.”
Of course, life was complicated back then. And I don’t recall too much in the way in of morals or happy endings, but we have a tendency to look at the past through rose-colored mirrored glasses.
Niw all this memory lane mania was happening when I was going through a period of heartbreak overload.
I got on to a bad train of thought, were I started to wonder just what in the ever-loving hell was I doing back in the Eighties when I should’ve been building a better future.
I was orchestrating one of my toxic symphonies, where I pound myself into oblivion over wasting my life, missing all kinds of opportunities, not moving to L.A. when I was younger, and it all hit me like a sailor being washed overboard in a typhoon.
Getting Centered
It got so bad on Saturday morning that I was scouring the internet for some kind of depression hotline just so I talk to somebody. I found suicide prevention sites, but I wasn’t at the stage, thank you, Jesus.
I slowly climbed out of this latest sinkhole and started doing chores around the house to keep busy and get rid of the dust. And then I decided—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—to see what was happening at my local senior center.
Yeah, me…going to a senior center. The formerly baby-faced would-be man about town was about to walk into a room full of septuagenarians. But it’s just a block from my house and there was supposed to be a Tai chi-qigong class going on.
The weather had taken a sharp downturn since the morning’s spring-like temperatures, so I had to Marcel Marceau my way over to 69th Street just in time to run into a lady who told me the place was closed.
Boomer that I am, I had managed to misread the calendar of events.
No matter, I had decided to treat myself to a massage later that day and I’m happy to report that the lovely young lady at my local rubdown joint gleefully bent, twisted and squeezed the bejesus out of me--and I was much better for it.
This morning at my gym it was all-Eighties on the sound system. I grunted, perspired and whined through such classics as “Billy Jean” “Down Under” and “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.”
On the way out the door, the J. Giles Band kicked in with “Centerfold,” and I thought, oh, yeah, my blood runs cold when I realize I’m so goddamn old.
But John Waite isn’t waiting around for the calendar leaves to pile up.
He’s out of the road and scheduled to play Wildey Theater in Edwardsville, Il on March 7, and then it’s on to Kansas City, MO, Wendover, NV and a whole bunch of other locations between now and September.
He’s hitting a few venues in Long Island, but unfortunately I won't be able to attend.
Break a leg, brother. Glad to see you’re still making music because I’ve been missing you—a lot.
Comments
Back to Coben, who I have never read, but he has several Netflix adaptations of his books and a couple more are on my “to watch” list.
I enjoy 50s music as well. Frank Sinatra probably did his best work in that decade.
I'm going to take another crack at the senior center--when the lights are on.
Glad you liked "Missing You." And brace yourself, but I see that Netflix has yet another Coben miniseries called "Just One Look" and it was shot in Poland.
Start cooking up the popcorn!