It was with a heavy heart (but a sizzle of excitement) that Dave Rogers gathered his bandmates around him for a very special announcement in early June. Though music will always be a passion of his, it ends up that even music could not outweigh his latest obsession: the Salem witch trials of 1692.
“I don’t really know when it came over me…” he explained slowly, idly twisting a novelty witch hat in his hands, “…it probably started with the move to Salem…or maybe when I was last watching The Crucible with Winona Ryder (God, I love that ‘Nony…I don’t understand why she steals, I really don’t.).”
Dave paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts while tugging a black cape around his shoulders–as if warding off a chill. He then continued.
“Anyway guys, I suppose I should just cut to the chase. I need to leave The Birds of Play. I do… I must. And it’s not that I don’t love you all…or the time we spent together…or the inappropriate jokes we made…or the two attempted murders of James. It’s just… I don’t need more cowbell in my life. I just need…” his voice hushed while trailing off longingly, then adding in a whisper, “…more witchcraft (and accusations thereof).”
I guess you could say,” he chuckled softly, “that it’s cast a spell on me.”
Disappointed and shocked, but determined to be supportive, the remaining band members internalized this news with a solemn sense of acceptance.
After a few hours of silent reflection, a teary-eyed keyboard/drummer/guitarist who will remain unnamed (lest he be embarassed) asked in a quavering voice how Dave would spend his time if not in Melissa’s basement on Wednesdays and Sundays.
“Well, Jon <editor’s note: name changed to protect the embarrassed>,” Dave explained gently, “I’ve taken a volunteer job at the Salem Witch Museum as a docent. I’ll be working there several shifts a week, including Wednesdays and Sundays. I’m really excited about it…sometimes they’re going to let me yell out BEELZEBUB during that creepy light show the tour starts with.”
The band murmured the sounds that impressed people make while murmuring.
“Yeah,” said Dave, straightening up a little more proudly, “all indications so far point to me being a really decent docent.” With a flourish, he put the witch hat on his head at a rakish angle. James gasped audibly at Dave’s devilishly-fashionable new appearance.
Melissa swept a tear from her eye quickly, as if something was simply tickling the eye region of her face. In a tone that betrayed her casual eye swiping, she asked if Dave might still please attend some shows, and maybe even take a picture or two, for old time’s sake.
Dave smiled benevolently, and put one hand atop her head now bowed with grief. “Yes, yes my child. I shall still point the lightning box at you all, and capture your souls for all time eternal.
Melissa looked up with shining eyes and smiled at the blossoming warlock before her. “Thank you, Dave” she said, crying openly now. “Thank you.”
Then even Dave himself got a tad emotional. “Oh hang them…I mean, it…all!” he exclaimed, fleeing before his emotions got the best of him.
And with a whirl of his cape, he was gone into the moonlight. Off to correct the populace, one admission price at a time, to the true magic of witchcraft.
Dave expressing his joy on the day he was hired (at volunteer pay wage).
Tags: we'll miss you Dave
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