You don't know what it means to win
Come down and see me again
Been down one time
Been down two times
I'm never going back again.
Fleetwood Mac
If you've been down more times than you can count, and you still don't know what it means to win, then you should read this e-mail that was sent to me by a lovely lady from down under (who I'm going to call Stevie).
Stevie kindly agreed that I could share it with you. Here it is:
Good morning SM,
I wanted to share an experience with someone who might understand, and who will not think that I am a complete fruit loop (at least not straight away.)
I went out on Friday evening to see Fleetwood Mac with Dear Husband.
I know that they were at their greatest before your time, dear SM, but suffice to say that they were there in my formative adolescence and teenage years.
In my mind I was Stevie, despite only having the odd scarf on my wrist, and no flowing golden locks.
Stevie and the band rose on the wave of their success. She and Lindsay Buckingham had met at school, and were in a relationship in the band, as were Christine McVie and John McVie.
The whole thing combusted under a tirade of success, money, drugs and hedonism.
The personal relationships all fell apart with heartbreak on show. The band split up, reformed, did solo projects and generally the world moved on. As did I.
They have been on this tour for a couple of years. It was interrupted by John McVie’s ‘cancer scare’ (know all about that huh?), and Christine McVie unexpectedly leaving her stately home, ringing Stevie, and saying "sorry I haven’t been in touch for a couple of decades but can I join the band?"
I went to see them somewhat apprehensively. Had the coke fried her voice? Could they still play? Was it going to be like the Stones, where the antipathy amongst members is only just below the surface?
It blew my mind. I would also like to confess that you are responsible for that happening.
This was the first band I have seen sober (still looking for a better word than that) since I was a teenager. It was all clear and crisp and wonderful. The band were tight, fit and presented their emotions for all to see.
However, what I wasn’t expecting was that Stevie and Lindsay spoke to me. Literally.
Their lyrics all seemed to be describing what it is like to be addicted, unhappy and anxious, but more importantly there was hope and love to be gained if you could get through it.
They spoke about this between songs. They communicated to me directly, and showed me that, like they have, I can have a future too.
I thought of the life experiences we have shared:
1.Addiction. Me: alcohol, Stevie: drugs.
2. Failed important early relationship due to: Me: first marriage collapsed under the weight of alcohol (for both parties) and drugs (for him), and failure to deal with the important things. Stevie and Lindsay: the same, and it still causes pain.
3 Wasted decade in your thirties due to addiction. Me: alcohol, Stevie: drugs including prescription.
4. Rock goddess with vast wealth and every man on the planet adoring her….maybe we didn’t share that.
Anyway, I have now confessed that important people are sending me secret messages so I had better make myself a foil hat.
Just remember, SM:
Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow
Don’t stop, it’ll soon be here
It’ll be better that before
Yesterday’s gone, yesterday’s gone
Stevie's e-mail made my cry (in a good way). I, too, am a huge Fleetwood Mac fan. I have been known, when on my own in the car, to put them on top volume and belt out the lyrics to myself.
And hearing secret messages doesn't make you a fruit loop. Secret messages are always there - we were just too drunk to hear them.
So remember, friends, to never go back again!
Thank you, Stevie. You rock ('n'roll). And, by the way, I wasn't responsible in the slightest. It was all you.
SM x