Last night, after the last customer was shooed out onto the sidewalk and the front door was locked, all the bartenders, managers, door guys, and assorted significant others sat at the bar and chatted quietly. The bands had played with fantastic energy and the crowds had been intense.
Someone put Soundgarden's Superunknown on the sound system, and all the sudden we found ourselves--every last one of us--singing "Black Hole Sun" in unison. "What a strange thing for us all to know the words to," I thought.
Something tugged at the edge of my memory, and suddenly I realized that this moment reminded me of the "Tiny Dancer" singalong from Almost Famous. But unlike the movie, it had nothing to do with the lyrics. It was just that the song was something we had in common. It was a collective release, the unifying calm after the storm.