The Connections Come to Pass
By David Friedli
"Where are we going?" Mrs. Super asked.
"To Chicago," I replied.
"To do what?" she asked?
"To, uh, um....to meet some people I met on James-Taylor Online."
"Have you ever met these people? Have you ever talked to them? Can we trust them? " she asked.
"No. Only once. I am sure we can....they are Taylor fans."
Pen-pals are nothing new to me. In the fourth grade, at the urging of my teacher, I corresponded with a soldier who was serving in the jungles of Vietnam. In junior high, I wrote once a week to my puppy-love sweetheart who, in the course of the next four years, would live in Jamaica, Colorado and Minnesota, and see her only three times during those years. At the end of a college career, I would meet the woman of my dreams, only to be teaching and coaching five hours away from her as she finished a graduate degree. The postman cometh, but never too often.
It's hardly surprising that some significant friendships developed on JTO. Last April, I stumbled upon JTO while taking part in a website construction workshop. "Do some searching across the Web for a site that addresses your hobby," said the instructor. I have few hobbies, but James Taylor music is a passion. JTO was the first site I found. In one visit, I was hooked. The information was helpful, but the conversation with other James Taylor fans captured my interest.
I might be just another name on the Forum were it not for another poster who had the same given name as I. He kept posting bizarre messages, sometimes not leaving an email, and after being accused of posting them, I had enough.
Falling back on the only nickname which ever stuck to me, I employed the moniker, and soon "SuperD" received some interesting emails, most from people either thanking "Super Dave Osborne" for his funny show on TV, or wanting autographs. I would agree with them that Super Dave had a great show, but I was not that person.
And then, I received the message that I will remember for the rest of my life.
"SuperD, you made me laugh for the first time since mom died." Sometimes, life deals you a hand that you can only sit and contemplate for a long time. Such was the email from Tasha, a person whose name I recognized as a frequent Forum poster.
I know what it is like to lose a parent. There are obvious differences when it happens in mid-life as it was for Tasha and 38 years ago as it happened to me. Still, there was a connection, and I found the words to express my concern to someone I had never met.
And thus began an 11-month pen-pal relationship with someone I had never met, but grew to know much about. Soon, messages were crossing the 'Net, sometimes three or four in one day. We shared interests, hobbies, music (beyond the obvious Taylorisms) and weather reports.
Then came the inevitable question "Is there a Mrs. Super?" I knew of two people who found "true love" through cyber connections. Had heard of people who are looking for relationships. I was also aware of incidents nearly so innocent.
Honesty is the best policy. I described the SuperFamily in great detail, and was ready for the absence of contact that I would recognize from ended friendships in my past. "I am so happy for you and your family," came the reply, and the conversations continued.
The friendship with Tasha would be solidified one night last winter when it became my job to keep "the regulars" in the chatroom for a special event. By doing my best Gabriel-with-his-trumpet imitation, I managed to get nearly everyone there for the public announcement of the love between Tasha and Gunky.
Soon after came the invitation I could not refuse, Gunky and Tasha would be together in Chicago for a concert by David Wilcox, and if the Supers could attend, there would be front-row seats, a chance to meet David, and of course a face-to-face meeting at long last. Surprise is the best ally in those instances where logic will not work, so on a Friday in March, Mrs. Super was kidnapped from her office and off to the airport before she could protest, except for the questions recalled above.
There are other good pen-pal friends from JTO who are faithful in their correspondence. Roo from Canada. Kathleen, the Baby Boom Novelist, from South Dakota (the left ventricle of the United States). Bill, another family man, from England. Sbux, once from the west, now from the south. Planet, who feeds the troops. Bassman, the youthful musician and stand-up guy from Canada. Sabine, one of the few Forumites who has out-researched me to correct my misunderstanding of "Frozen Man". UnFrozen Man, who helped perpetuate the "JT was abducted by a UFO near Roswell, NM" rumor.
In fact, I keep a two-page database of information about JTO chatters -- name, location, significant information ("plays a Martin D-50", for instance) -- a trick I learned from some past experience with amateur radio. It is important to keep track of friends. And it is true JTO is a place normal people can develop true friendships.
"I thought you were completely crazy," Mrs. Super said as we flew
home from Chicago.
"COMPLETELY crazy, as compared to just mostly crazy?" I asked.
"You know what I mean. The David Wilcox concert was
incredible. The day walking through downtown was fun. Tasha and
Gunky are really nice, probably the nicest people I have met in some
time."
"Great," I said. "So we can plan our summer vacation around a
return trip to Chicago for the JT concert in July?"
"You are COMPLETELY crazy....but, yes," she said.
"I know." I smiled...and I softly sang a familiar tune.
"Distant hands in foreign lands are turning distant wheels,
Causing things to come out which no one seems to feel
All invisible from where we stand the connections come to pass
And though too strange to comprehend
They affect us nonetheless....yes."
Dave Friedli is Project Director for "Toward a Drug Free Nebraska", a prevention education program specializing in training for safe, disciplined, drug-free schools. A former teacher and coach, Dave lives in a rural community of northeast Nebraska, has been a Taylor Fan since 1970, and logs on to JTO as "SuperD".