Surreal Life

Most mornings, I wake up and turn on a sports talkshow to start my day.  For some reason, I decided to start my day last Friday by checking Facebook on my new iPhone.  And there I saw the news that a friend from high school had died.

There are so many levels to what happened and to how I feel.  To me, my high school theater friend John Oswald is gone.  To the world, Warrant lead singer Jani Lane has died alone in a hotel room.  To see the life and death of an old friend splashed out across tabloids is so surreal.  It's strange enough that a classmate of mine became a rock star, then a pitiable reality show figure.  But now his family and friends are going to be subjected to the weird extreme grief plus rumor-mongoring that is so popular online nowadays.  If only people could've written about John when he was vital and alive, and left him alone when he was struggling with his demons.  It just all seems so backwards.

I have so many memories of a talented and charming boy.  We did musicals and plays together, we had classes together.  We did the hustle in sixth grade study hall.  When we had to slow dance in gym class (yikes!), we would generally pick each other as a partner.  We auditioned together for a Kent State scholarship and even accompanied each other's musical auditions (he sang "Hey There" and I sang, ugh, "What I Did For Love."  I think you can guess who got the performance scholarship and who didn't).  We rehearsed a lot at my house--my mom and sister were so fond of him.  He chose not to accept his scholarship and left Ohio to pursue his music.  The next time I heard about him was when I was in grad school and my sister called me and said "Turn on MTV!  I think John Oswald is on!!"  What a trip that was--seeing John on MTV!

The last time I physically saw John was in Detroit (that's where I went to grad school).  I saw that he was doing an autograph signing at a mall outside Detroit--my mom and I drove out there to see him.  I got in line with hundreds of screaming teenage girls.  One girl asked me what I was doing there (since I was clearly way older than anyone else in line).  I said I knew "Jani" and wanted to say hi.  The girls around me started to squeal.  Then, when I got to the front of the line, John was looking down and signing a photo.  I leaned in and whispered, "Hi John."  He looked up and screamed, "Oh my god, it's Tari!!!" and gave me a huge hug.  We talked for awhile, he invited me to his show later that night (I couldn't go--I had to work), then he had to get back to his fans and I left.  As I walked away, the girls around me started screaming and wanted to touch me because John had!  It was one of the strangest experiences of my life.

Although I followed his career and was very proud of his success (and was very worried during his public battles with alcohol), our lives went in completely different directions and I only talked to him one other time.  He called me sometime after 9/11.  We had corresponded briefly on MySpace, before I closed my account because of weirdos.  He wanted to know how I was.  We caught up on each other's lives.  He expressed disappointment that his career seemed stalled.  I told him he needed to come to New York and get back into theater.  There was no reason he couldn't get a show if people like Sebastian Bach were being cast.  He said it sounded like a good idea and he would look into it, and that he was proud I pursued my passion like he did.  And that was that.  I will always regret not calling him to follow up.  Not calling him after reading about some trouble to see if there was something I could do to help.  I look at his cell phone number in my new iPhone and I wonder...

Like so many friends from high school, I love the boy he was.  Maybe I wouldn't have loved the man he became.  But that doesn't matter.  He's sort of frozen in time now, like so many friends who are gone too soon.  I'm sorry there will be no more music and no more opportunities to whisper, "Hi John," and remember simpler days gone by.

Most of my photos of the old days are packed up and I can't get to them, but here are a few shots of the John I remember.  The black and white shots are actually scans of yearbook photos that I shot in high school, the production shots are from Stage Door.  A couple of the other shots are taken from the internet.  Rest in peace, dear John.   I will miss you.