Reflections for the end of an era

With the coming of Halloween the band will be going through some changes that will mark the end of era, and the beginning of a new one. After 3 years playing with the New Weather Machine, Jesse Northey, the man that has dutifully served as the band’s bass player and main vocal harmonizer, will be heading to greener (or whiter) pastures as he moves up to Edmonton. The show tomorrow night (the 31st) will be his last with us.


On the other side of that coin, I would like to welcome Jason Schultchen as the new bass player. His first show will be on the November 1st for a fun secondary Halloween event where we will join several other local bands in dressing up as other bands to play their music. Check it out here.

(**I realized that I went on a bit of a tangent, so consider this a warning**)

Change is often welcomed, and nearly always inevitable.

When I think back to times when this type of change has occurred in other bands or situations I’ve been in, there is a pattern that always seems to appear.

For whatever reason, it feels like the time period where the change “action” is taking place passes at a slower rate than normal, while in the post-change period, it feels like the entire situation had been something akin to a vivid, yet quickly passing, dream.

You could extrapolate this idea on to any number of circumstances. For example, eating a delicious ice cream: 1) you obtain a delicious ice cream cone, 2) you eat your delicious ice cream cone, 3) you wonder where your delicious ice cream cone went. Ok, maybe that’s not the best example, but I’m a sucker for food analogies and I think you get the idea.

Specifically with events that cannot or are likely not to repeat, I think there is an artificial distance that gets subconsciously inserted in our memories after a short period of separation. I’m unsure of why this is, but I would imagine that it could be for any number of reasons, but I would guess it is some kind of psychological defense mechanism or a feature of human memory capacity maintenance, or some combination thereof. Alternately, it could be a byproduct of modern information accessibility that results in a repeatable interaction with theory of relativity. Wouldn’t that be fun?

I was actively thinking about this earlier today during what was our last foreseeable rehearsal for our last foreseeable show with Jesse, and I really expected that the active focusing of attention would change how the situation felt. But it didn’t. The rehearsal didn’t feel different at all. As soon as I was occupied by music and my thoughts shifted elsewhere and things proceeded in a normal fashion. As I write this, I can’t think about earlier today in a fashion that makes it feel artificially separated - today still feels like today. However, when thinking about yesterday evening, it feels like it could have been weeks or months ago, and, even though I know it was only yesterday, and as weird as it sounds, I don’t even really feel like the same person anymore!

I know that Jesse’s departure will mark the end of this era of the New Weather Machine, and while I am exited for change, I know that our show tomorrow is the last bite of the this ice cream cone. Wait, that sounds weird (note to self: only use food analogies for mixing). The Halloween show will be recorded, and barring some catastrophic technology failure, I will share some or all of it with you in the near future.

Anyway, if you followed me all the way through that rant, I applaud you and sincerely hope it made sense! Stay tuned.

Jon