The Doug and the Slugs story

I'm still struggling to keep up with work, so I was planning to keep this short. A few folks have asked me to tell the Doug and the Slugs magic moment story, and it's short. Put those two facts together, and you get tonight's blog entry.

I should mention that to me a magic moment is when life presents you with something that feels magical. True magic, something that breaks the rules of science, is unnecessary (and probably doesn't exist). It's the feeling of magic that matters.

In late summer of 1988 (I think that's the date), I was visiting some friends in Toronto. Doug and the Slugs were playing at an amphitheater down by the lake, and we were lucky enough to get tickets. In fact, our luck was so good that our tickets were for the last row that the venue's ceiling completely covered; most of the seats were in the open. The day was lovely, not a cloud in the sky, so the uncovered seats and the grass were all covered by fans, and I regretted having paid extra for the unnecessary cover.

Tomcat Prowl was a relatively new album, so the band was playing a lot of cuts from it. My favorite, which I haven't found on YouTube or would have embedded here, was (and is) "Must Be the Rain." About halfway into the set, while taking a drink of water Doug motioned to the band to noodle around a bit in preparation for the next song. I recognized the opening of "Must Be the Rain."

When Doug first sang the words "must be the rain," the clear blue sky opened up and rain fell straight down. I got to stay dry but watch it. Except, of course, that when life presents you with that sort of opportunity, you can't ignore it, so I got up, ran out into the rain, and joined all the other concert-goers in singing along with the song.

Magic is everywhere, as I keep telling you, and it was in full force in Toronto on that flawless day for me.