I arrived at dinner on Saturday evening about half an hour early on purpose. I wanted to get a little reading done on my CFP class, and I’d wasted away the afternoon taking a drugged-up nap. (For some reason I couldn’t get the .125mg of Xanax I’d taken the night before out of my system, and my body reacted by demanding three hours’ sleep midday.) The Pasta House had chosen a classic rock stream for their background music, which I was enjoying immensely. It’s been a while since I’ve listened to The Who and Led Zeppelin on purpose.

What really boggled my mind, though, was when “Leave It” by Yes came on. Yes. Wow. The album, “90125″ was my favorite for years and years. My first boyfriend introduced me to Yes in 1985, two years after it was released. It rocked my world. Truly, it was the first music I ever listened to that made chills run up my spine. Yes and I, we had that connection.

It was disappointing to find out that other albums by Yes weren’t quite the same. (::cough::) 1970’s rock epics were not really my thing. But damn, 90125 was.

And then, well. Then Mtv played the full-length Yes concert from 90125. And my heart met Trevor Rabin.

Trevor Rabin was born in South Africa, and made a name for himself fronting the group Rabbitt in the late 70’s. I spoke with one person from South Africa who laughed when I asked him about Rabbitt. He was an older gentleman, perhaps in his 50’s (in the early 1990’s). This gentleman said that Rabbitt was South Africa’s version of the Beatles. If you lived in South Africa during that time and hadn’t heard of them, you’d been living under a rock.

Wow. And Trevor’d only been 20 at the time.

So, after Rabbitt died, Trevor got a call from Chris Squire, the frightening-looking bassist for Yes. As far as I can remember, Chris was looking to do a project away from Jon Anderson - I mean Yes - and they all got together as a group called Cinema. Jon wandered back to the fold, and the rest is history.

Trevor was the very first musician I fell in love with. He’s an utterly beautifully talented musician, songwriter, singer, guitarist. He’s so incredibly passionate about his craft that it shows everywhere. In concert he makes love to his guitar, and I have to say that it’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen to date. His guitar solos were fascinating for me, as his guitar sang just as beautifully as he did.

In 1989 Trevor released a solo album called “Can’t Look Away.” I purchased the tape and then proceeded to wear out my first copy of it while driving back and forth to college. If you caught a ride with me, you would learn every detail of every song on “Can’t Look Away.” That’s just the way it was.

In early 1993 I had a conversation with Carol. It was my first and only cold-feet-freak-out about marrying Dan. I remember being on my bed in the basement of my parents’ house, talking on the phone. I was crying, and I had the liner notes to “Can’t Look Away” beside me. I was telling Carol that I just couldn’t marry Dan. She was asking me why I felt that way. There was only one thing I could say:

“Because he isn’t Trevor Rabin….”

She dismissed it as lunacy. And now look at me. It wasn’t lunacy. It was a screaming sign. But I don’t blame her for not listening. It was a moment of clarity out of five years of haziness.

Carol came into Pasta House just as the song was mid-stream. I asked her if she heard it, and of course she did. “Isn’t Trevor Rabin about 60 by now?” she asked. No, dammit. He’s 49. And how do I know this? I’m not really sure. I just do.

Dearest Trevor Rabin, my first musician love. You started me down a path of heartache. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.

Sighing over my man,

michelle