A Season of Dying: Old Things Are Passed Away; Behold All Things Become New. 2 Corinthians 5:17

And so the Journey Begins . . .

P roducer of Entertainment that’s what it says on my card Debra reminds herself while gripping the steering wheel of her car. The snow covered road only added to the frustration of having to be out on such a dreadful night. It was time to expand her stable of bands and disc jockeys. Not the most desirable part of her job, sitting in smoke filled bars and restaurants, and of course, they couldn’t start playing at a reasonable hour. At this time of night she would have preferred to be curled up on the couch with her cat, Gabby, rather than out on this wicked night auditioning a new band. But she had to go where the music was.

Although the special treatment she always would receive from the musicians did help to lighten her mood, more often than not her name would be left at the door, along with a table reserved for her in front of the stage. Every so often drinks and dinner would be offered to her, if she chose to accept them. She was treated as if she was from a major entertainment office with the power to present musicians with a recording contract then whisk them away to stardom! Everyone wants to be a star! She thought.

The reality was the only whisking she could offer were lavish private banquets, expensive weddings and huge corporate conventions . . . . where the real money was! Musicians knew this and were eager to be represented by Gerald Stein Productions.

Tonight’s audition was no different than all the others. As she walked through the doors of the hotel, she was greeted by the hostess and was escorted to a table at the front of the stage. As she took her seat, she glanced around the room, taking note of all the couples, dressed to the nine, sipping their cocktails and eager to dance the night away. However, tonight she didn’t have the urge for drinks or dinner, she just wanted to see this group, go home to her warm house, and slip into her soft, over-sized robe and plush slippers.

Twenty minutes later, the band she was there to see came out and was immediately welcomed by the crowd. Three songs into the first set she was taken aback by their sound. Consisting of three guys, electronic drums, saxophone and keyboards, this trio had the sound of a four or five piece band. The lead singer’s voice bore a remarkable resemblance to Jeffrey Osborne.

Taking a sip of her wine, watching the lead singer, Michael took the microphone out of the stand; Debra knew what was coming next, the special attention to her to book his band.

With microphone in hand, the Jeffery Osborne sound alike slowly and methodically strolled across the stage to position himself directly in front of her. Swaying back and forth, he sang a ballad to her, staring into her eyes and smiling. Trying to remain professional, she turned her head, avoiding any eye contact with him. Suddenly feeling like a school girl she quickly looked at him, smiled and nodded and then felt her face get very warm.

It is probably bright red now. she thought to herself. Fidgeting about in the chair, she quickly reminded herself that she was working.

He wants work, not you. Get a hold of yourself! She scolded herself.

* * *

Michael finished the first set, walked off the stage to begin talking and shaking hands with the people who had come to see him perform. Leisurely making his way in her direction and every so often glancing over in Debra’s direction to make sure she was still seated at her table.

Sipping her glass of wine, she waited for Mr. Jamison to make his way over to her table, which was taking more time than she had to wait.

He is doing this on purpose; who does he think he is? I will give him another five minutes, and then I am out of here.

With one minute to spare, Michael arrived at her table.

Glad you could make it Miss Bergman, I am Michael Jamison. Extending his hand to her.

I was just about to leave. I was beginning to think you didn’t need the services of Gerald Stein Productions.

I’m sorry, just needed to show my appreciation to the people. Most of them come out wherever we play.

I guess that is fair. Your group sounds very good. Only three members and such a big sound, I am sure I could sell you guys.

So how much of a cut do you take? He didn’t waste any time with pleasantries.

You don’t beat around the bush about these things, do you?

No, I don’t. It irritates some people. He grinned.

This was not the usual way she did business and was somewhat offended by his arrogant behavior.

After dealing with Atlantic City agents for many years, Michael found it very hard to believe that anyone in the entertainment business would not take a cut for themselves.

Mr. Jamison, I can assure you I do not take any part of the money you are paid if I book your band. We are not agents, but producers. My clients receive a package price for their entertainment, so whatever you are asking for a job that is what you will be paid. As long as it is within reason.

Is that so? He smiled.

Our clients do ask for the entertainment to dress in formal attire on some jobs. I’m sure you are aware the majority of our business consists of banquets, weddings and corporate events. We do not book any clubs or restaurants, except for New Year’s Eve. Are there any objections to the formal wear?

No problem.

She finished her drink. Any questions or comments?

Michael found it all very appealing, particularly the money she could offer him, but didn’t want to appear too raring to go. Thinking she would offer less money if he seemed overly anxious for more work.

After a moment of silence on Michael’s part, she stood up prepared to take her offer and go.

Wait a minute, I guess this sounds fair. When do we start?

Exchanging business cards, saying she would be in touch, they shook hands and said good night.

Debra was very good at her job, she usually could tell after the first set if the band was one she could recommend to her clients. This was one she would definitely recommend despite Michael’s pompous behavior.

Two days later Michael delivered the band’s promotional material as promised. The eight by ten glossy was picture perfect showing the trio fully clad in their tuxedos. Their CD sounded as if it had been professionally produced, more than a few letters of recommendation along with the song list containing a nice variety of music. Debra suspected this trio would be easy to sell and it was. Her clients raved about their performances; some calling the next day to book them for upcoming events. The word got out about the Michael Jamison Trio, calls from brides-to-be requesting them for their wedding receptions some a year away. Business was booming for Michael and he was elated and even impressed with how Debra handled his band. She was professional in every sense of the word. Most weekends she had more than one group performing, but always made an appearance at each job to meet with her client to make sure everything was to their liking. Her clients were the priority and if there would be a problem, Debra was not hesitant or intimidated about letting the musicians know if her client was unhappy with their performance. In her opinion, the band was working and not there for partying amongst the guests. She did, however, try and accommodate the band as much as possible. Making sure they were provided a table for their breaks, a private room rather than public restrooms to change clothes in. Occasionally she was able to arrange meals for the entertainers but it was clearly understood that meals had to be eaten during the twenty minute break. On the top of her list was punctuality, musicians had to arrive at the designated time for setting up and sound checks or a percentage of their pay was withheld. So far, Michael Jamison was cooperating and followed the rules and regulations to the tee.

* * *

Tuesday afternoon following the weekend performance, entertainers could stop by the office to pick up their paychecks. Michael entered the office to find Ann, the receptionist, away from her desk and no where to be found. He had finished work for the day and decided to hang around for a few minutes and sat down in one of the leather chairs off in the corner. Thinking to himself as he sat in the chair, one day he would have a chair like this one. Michael appreciated the richness and aroma of fine leather; he tilted his head side to side to inhale the hearty fragrance of the leather. As he was savoring his moment of lavishness, his eyes glanced up at all the pictures hanging on the wall. There were pictures of pop idols, famous comedians and prominent public figures all standing along side Gerald Stein and his wife. He recognized some pictures of celebs that weren’t as famous as they once were, but they still remained a household name.

And you thought Gerald Stein Productions was just some little fly-by-night company?

Michael almost jumped out of the chair at the sound of Debra’s voice.

I never said that! Trying to catch his breath.

Gerald has been in business for over twenty years. In the beginning he started out booking only clubs, a one man operation, a tiny office with one window a telephone and a typewriter. That was all he needed to sell entertainment. A year later while he and his wife were driving home from a vacation, Gerald took notice to the many smoke stacks that stood along side huge corporations and that got him wondering about the number of employees these companies had. Did those companies provide events for their employees; maybe they might be interested in entertainment? He asks his wife to write down the company names so he could contact them regarding their entertainment needs.

Ya know I remember now hearing about Gerald Stein Productions when I was playing in Atlantic City back in the 80’s. Back then I only dealt with the casinos and agencies in Philadelphia, but I do remember hearing about his agency. Who knew that someday I would be working for him?

Twenty years later, his idea obviously proved to be correct. Gerald Stein Productions is now exclusive to many of the big hotels chains and corporations throughout the state.

Honestly Miss Bergman after our first meeting I didn’t think your agency would be calling me for many jobs.

Ah . . . so you did think we were just a little fly-by-night company! She smiled. Please call me Debra; Miss Bergman sounds so old and frumpy.

You are not old and definitely not frumpy in that yellow mini skirt! You look rather hot today, if I may say so.

Who is this man; he has never acknowledged my appearance in all the months we have been working together. She liked the comment but fearing her school girl reaction would happen again she immediately changed the subject.

Did you come for your paycheck? I think Ann keeps them in the top drawer. If you have a moment, I have some other jobs I need to speak with you about.

I always have time for you. He winked.

What in the world is this man doing now, she thought. Could he be flirting with me?

They walked into Debra’s office to discuss three more jobs for his band. An hour later they were still sitting in her office, talking and debating about everything from music to movie preferences even their families and children, each had a daughter with the same middle name. All of a sudden Michael realized he was catching a glimpse of a completely different woman. Michael sat silently analyzing her features while she continued to discuss band business. He was now mesmerized with every word she spoke, wondering if her lips were as soft as they looked. She wasn’t all business, on rare occasions she would let her guard down and the comical side of her would surface. That funny side softened her, he thought. But that hair of hers, too short with hints of red. Michael preferred brunettes to redheads, but on her that hairstyle and color suited her, brought out the hints of gold in her sultry hazel eyes. Today thanks to her yellow mini skirt, he couldn’t stop thinking about those legs, shapely and tempting. He was toast, completely awestruck by this attractive, petite and intelligent Debra sitting behind the desk. There was no stopping his feelings of wanting her; he was in the midst of envisioning his hands as they explored and caressed every inch of her body, visions of taking her right there on her desk.

Michael, are you listening to me? She snapped.

Would you like to go out? He wasn’t sure what had just come out of his mouth, the words were chaotic in his mind and complex with so much emotion he couldn’t explain what had just happened.

What did you just say?

I believe I ask you out on a date, it happened so fast. He sounded almost apologetic.

Well now that you had a moment to digest your invitation, how do you feel?

Michael looked at her and still saw this new version of Debra and the thought to take her on the desk was still there.

Would you like to see a movie this Friday night? Grinning from ear to ear.

I would like that Michael.

I have been waiting for the new Terminator movie to come out. Have you seen any of them?

What is a Terminator?

You haven’t seen any of them, have you?

No, but that’s ok. I am always up for new and exciting things. Who knows maybe I will like Terminators.

How about the early movie at seven-thirty on Friday night and then after the movie we can go and get something to eat?

I’ll be ready.

Alright then, I have my paycheck, three new jobs and a date for Friday night. I would say this has been a very productive meeting. Winking at her as he closed the door.

Their first date was not awkward at all. They talked about anything and everything for hours. One date led to another and then another, finally they celebrated the anniversary of their first date. And by years end, Debra was deeply in love with Michael. She knew in her heart that Michael was going to be her husband someday. But as the years passed, the proposal of marriage passed along with it. Michael never gave a thumbs down to the idea of marriage; he just wanted to be sure of his feelings the second time around.

The Michael Jamison Trio had more work than they could handle. But for Debra those date nights with Michael were practically non-existent. If she wanted to spend time with him, she had to go where the band was playing. That meant sitting at the band table usually alone and watching couples eat, drink and be merry. All the while wishing it was she and Michael dancing the night away like they did early on in their relationship. Men and women knew who she was; men wouldn’t ask her to dance for fear of stepping on Michael’s toes. And, those women, after the alcohol had stripped away their morals and inhibitions, the ball would start rolling with flirting, up close and personal, hugs and kisses all around, unknown words whispered in Michael’s ear and last but not least, the touching.

In the beginning, Debra made excuses for his behavior. The years went on and so did the list of excuses and still no marriage proposal. With each inebriated weekend her list of excuses grew and was now just as long as Pinocchio’s nose. Regularly repeating to herself that she had been around entertainers for years and Michael’s actions were no different than any other entertainer. However, it was during those quiet moments, alone with her thoughts, Debra was able to muster up the courage to face her reality; Michael was interacting and enjoying everyone, but her. She felt invisible to Michael and everyone else in those clubs.

Consoling herself with the thought of just overreaction, that did seem to work for a while, but how much longer could she go on being so unconscious of his actions? Debra felt as if she was walking on eggshells weekend after weekend. When her thoughts and emotions got to a boiling point, eggshells didn’t stop her from questioning everything he did, everyone he spoke too and his thoughts about their relationship. Rocking the boat never sat well with Michael, inevitably an argument would ensue leaving Debra alone and heartbroken, a total of eight times over the course of their dating. For the most part a long weekend was enough to extinguish the needs that were buried deep within his mind, body and soul. And when his flesh was satisfied, he returned home to the welcoming arms of Debra. Having learned her lesson of not rocking the boat, not a word was spoken as to what, why or where he had been . . . yet again.

Blinded by love or just plain stupidity, she didn’t care. Her love for him was deep and real. Michael had returned and all was right within her world and it was back to a life as usual. After all, she believed Michael was God’s plan for her life and nothing could take it away from her.

Eight years later . . . .

Another Monday morning the sunlight pierces through the drawn curtains as Debra struggles to open her eyes, still half asleep; she has a sense of peace and anticipation for the new day. This is the day she has dreamed about for the last eight years with Michael. Today she would become Mrs. Michael Jamison, promising to love each other, for better or worse. In the past eight years, Debra felt she had experienced the worst of times with Michael, he may not have demonstrated his affections openly or in the way she would have liked, but her love for Michael was steadfast for almost a decade. Whether it was right or wrong she believed they were still together for a reason and that reason was love. Now in her mid-forties, the day she prayed for had arrived, today she would finally become Mrs. Michael Jamison.

The wedding ceremony was simple but elegant and took place in Debra’s church. Debra wore a slim sheath tea length dress in re-embroidered lace with cap sleeves and a Queen Anne neckline. Her daughter, Victoria wore a shorter version of her mother’s dress while Michael’s daughter, Carly, was dressed in a white satin dress with layers of fluffy tulle, perfect for an eight year old little girl.

At long last the moment had arrived, with friends and family in attendance on a Saturday evening in May, Michael and Debra stood facing one another and in front of God above they willingly pledged to love, honor and cherish one another till death do they part. Following the ceremony the newlyweds and their guests assembled at Michael and Debra’s favorite restaurant to celebrate with a casual dinner and a few of the normal wedding reception formalities. The newlyweds cut the first slice from the wedding cake, all eyes were upon them along with shouts of let him have it, but they had both agreed that they were too old to smash wedding cake all over each others face. The champagne was flowing freely and more than one toast was made to the bride and groom throughout the night. By ten o’clock the reception had started to wind down and Debra had started gathering up their gifts and loading the car. Her best friend, Julie had offered to keep the girls so the newlyweds could enjoy a romantic weekend alone before having to return to work on Monday. Debra stood alone in the parking lot waving good-bye to her daughters and suddenly felt a rush of eagerness as she contemplated her wedding night with Michael. She hurriedly walked back into the restaurant but Michael was no where to be found. Her next thought was to check the bar and sure enough when she walked through the doors there stood Michael downing a shot of tequila with a group of men that she didn’t recognize. The minute Michael saw her standing at the end of the bar he threw his head back and laughed.

Dear, where have you been? Michael turned back to his drinking buddies and made a quick comment then ran over to Debra. I have a surprise for you.

Michael grabbed her by the arm and whisked her to a table in front of the stage then walked up to the microphone and announced he had just gotten married and had a special song for his new bride. Debra’s irritation with him immediately vanished and the deep love she felt for Michael bubbled to the surface once again. This day could not get any better she thought, head over heels in love with her husband and now having him sing only to her. Debra sat mesmerized and hung on each word he sang to her but halfway through My Funny Valentine she noticed Michael seemingly having difficulty standing upright along with some of the words and phrases in places that were incorrect. Also very apparent was the tone of his voice, it was flat and he was now slurring the words.

Oh my God, Michael end this song and now. She thought.

She could no longer hold back her tears; finally his disastrous rendition of My Funny Valentine was over but not without him stumbling over the microphone chord and almost falling into a couple seated next to Debra. She immediately jumped up and grabbed a hold of him all the while keeping a smile on her face despite the sadness and disappointment that filled her heart. Michael was falling down drunk on their wedding day and she had to get him home. Debra quietly wept as she drove them home knowing that the wedding night she had envisioned in her mind for months would now have to remain only a vision. Consummating their marriage tonight was out of the question.

Alone she struggled to get Michael out of the car and in the front door. All of a sudden he let out a gut wrenching moan and then collapsed fully clothed on top of the bed and that was the last she heard of him for the rest of the night. Knowing there was no salvaging her wedding night she removed his shoes and socks, covered him with a blanket then turned out the lights and closed the door.

Debra walked back into the living room with the last load of wedding gifts and sat down in the center of the gifts and the basket of cards. Still in her wedding dress but now completely alone.

Well if I am not going to have sex tonight, I’ll have the next best thing. Opening presents and counting money!

Over the past eight years Debra had gotten very good at pushing her reality deep into the recesses of her mind. She would take all the heartache and disappointment of this day and place it alongside the many broken promises, the words not honored and years of hearing "I almost love you". In the morning any disappointment or unhappiness would be as far away from her conscious mind as was possible. All would be right with her world again, they both had the same last name and it was back to a life as usual for her.

Your old men shall dream dreams; Your young men shall see visions.

Not long after they were married Michael began thinking about the push-up exercise device, the same one he designed twenty years ago. A square piece of wood, with a metal bar that held the weight plates and canvas shoulder straps. Worked well, but was awkward and heavy when mounted on his body. He made a few inquiries to companies, most of which required a deposit of over two-hundred dollars to do research on the invention. At that time, Michael was in his early twenties and didn’t have the money to invest which quickly brought his idea to a screeching halt and remained dormant, deep in the hollows of his mind, until now. The past weeks his mind was overflowing with new sketches of his machine, marketing strategies, and the all important-patent.

Monday morning and Michael was up and dressed before breakfast! Debra shuffled down the hall, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee led her straight to the kitchen only to find Michael sitting at the table with papers scattered about.

Michael, I am afraid to ask what this is all about. Yawning as she spoke.

Deb, this is weird. pouring his third cup coffee.

"What is weird, your coffee? Yawning again.

"No, a push-up machine I designed twenty years ago, I can’t stop thinking about it. What in the world made me think about it again?

Hmmm, maybe there are some supernatural forces out there in the universe planting ideas and visions in your head! Whistling a paranormal tune.

Ha . . . Ha . . . I am serious! I haven’t thought about this machine for twenty years, now I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m telling you, something is going on here!

Michael’s focus was on his drawings, not conversation. And, since it didn’t look like he had any intentions of vacating the kitchen table, Debra took her cup of coffee, Bible and journal to the living room for her morning ritual. Not having any specific verse or book of the Bible to read, she chose her Daily Devotions booklet and opened it to the prayer for the 28th and read,

My Lord, resurrect my buried hopes and dreams that You have given to me. I am trusting You to unfold and evolve them according to Your timetable. I am available to help make Your will my desire. I feel alive again and ready tackle life.

Chills stretched out from the top of her head down to the tip of her toes! Her hands still trembling as she turned the page to read the Bible verse for