Chapter 1
July 1998……………………………Setting the Stage
Before I share the events of my life following my husband’s death, or better, the events of my life following the beginning of Red’s life in eternity, I must set the stage. Setting the stage will help you understand why I felt the way I did after 9 years of love, laughter and life on the road with one of the greatest entertainers who ever lived; a gifted musician and my soul mate, Lawrence “Fiddlin Red” Seidman.
The year was 1998 and I wasn’t keeping a journal then. I was quite happy with my position in life and much too busy to try to write down everything that was happening. I was 42 years old. I’d accomplished many things throughout the years and I was getting ready to start on a completely new life. I was headed for an ashram in California to dedicate my life to God.
I’d just spent a few years working on me; learning how to control my addictive, obsessive personality and successfully conquering some severe problems with drugs and alcohol. For years I’d found it easy to blame my problems on someone else, after all, my first husband left me after 15 years of marriage. I felt abandoned and clouded my reality with that “fog of addictions.” I’d successfully sent myself into my very own personal hell.
Fortunately, before it was too late, I began to understand the problems in my life were my responsibility. With the help of a few close friends and a book about yoga, I recovered from the loss of my first husband, the father of my children, and I reclaimed my life.
In reclaiming my life I regained my self-worth and was, once again, very proud of who I was and where I was going in life. I’d owned 2 very successful retail stores, I’d had 2 husbands and I’d built a house with each of them. I’d been a supervisor of a 5 diamond resort, I’d become skilled in fiberglass repairs and wood working, I’d done volunteer work for a few wonderful elderly ladies, been a caretaker of many beautiful properties and caregiver for a few disabled folks, some wonderfully inspirational, some frighteningly self-centered and down right mean.
I’d lived a wonderful, full life and was preparing to make a break from the rat race. I was confident in my actions. I was comfortable in my skin and with my decisions once again. It felt good. I was proud of where I was in my life but I knew I wanted more.
I had been practicing yoga and meditation diligently for over a year and I’d decided to leave the Florida Keys and dedicate my life to helping others and to advance myself, spiritually speaking.
I was carefully packing my essential belongings and I was on my way to an ashram in California. I called my mother to tell her of my plans and she promptly asked me, “When are you going to have time for a man?”
Bless her heart. At the time, she and my father had been happily married for 43 years and believed in partnering for life. Well, so did I until I found out it takes two people feeling that way to make it last forever.
I tried to explain to my mother I had decided I didn’t need a man in my life; I’d had enough relationships and enough disappointments. I wanted to do something different.
I remember her response and I quote her quite often. Her voice came ringing across the phone line, “If men and women weren’t meant to be together they wouldn’t fit so good.”
I laughed and told her I would come up and see her and Daddy in Maine before I headed to the west coast. It may be awhile until I returned.
August 1, 1998………………………Meeting The Fiddle Player
It was August 1, 1998. I remember the exact date, as it was the wedding anniversary I used to celebrate with my first husband. When you have an anniversary for 15 years, you rarely forget it.
I decided to celebrate my memories and take a break from my packing and go for a walking meditation. I had forgiven the ex-husband and was thankful for the lessons I’d learned from my relationship with him not to mention the thankfulness I felt from the blessings of my 2 wonderful sons.
It was Sunday and I knew there was live music less than a half a mile away at Plantation Yacht Harbor. I’d already biked to work all week as my old Ford Van still wouldn’t start, even after I changed the starter. Walking sounded like the perfect mode of transportation for my break from packing. I grabbed my bottle of water and headed towards some good music, some fun and a completely unexpected turn of events.
I crossed US 1 in Islamorada, about mile marker 88 and headed for the Tiki Hut at Plantation Yacht Harbor. PYH isn’t there anymore, but in its day, it was THE gathering place on the weekends. People came from miles around, on boats, by car, by foot and by bicycle. The music started about noon and the party lasted till late in the evening. Anyone who has spent time in the Florida Keys knows where there is music, especially GOOD music, there’s a party.
Before the Founders of Islamorada tore our oasis on the bay down, the locals, and a few lucky tourists who stumbled in, would sit under the Tiki and listen to bands like Roach Thompson, The Sauce Boss (before Jimmy Buffet wrote a song about him, Dave Feder, Built for Comfort Band and scores of other great, down-to-earth-love-to-have-a-good-time musicians.
This particular Sunday, my youngest son, Jason, 17 years old at the time, was supposed to play saxophone with a local band. He worked at a resort in their water sports rental shop every summer and played his saxophone every chance he got. He was going to go to college for music, but, because of life's changes, is now doing grad work in science education at Cornell University instead. Thank goodness for those life changes.
The band this Sunday was one my son had been playing with whenever possible for the past 4 years. I think the only thing better than listening to great music is listening to great music when someone you love is on stage.
I was walking onto the property towards the Florida Bay, the music and the party, when Jason beeped me from his work. Yeah, remember when everyone beepers instead of cell phones?
I stopped at the pay phone, which was known to work intermittently, and attempted to call him at work. On the third try I finally got through to hear him tell me he couldn’t make it. I contained my disappointment, thanked him for letting me know, and told him I’d see him later.
I carefully sat down on a bench at one of the picnic tables under the dilapidated Tiki. Hurricanes had truly taken their toll on the structure and the seats. You always had to be careful when sitting down on their weather-worn benches. Many of them had splinters so big they could do some serious damage.
This was going to be fun. The crowd was enjoying the band and there was a guy playing fiddle. Little did I know exactly how much fun it was going to be, and how this fiddle player was going to change my life.
They sounded great but it was one of those unbearably hot-humid-no-wind-days on the bay in the Keys and the musicians were miserably overheated. When they went on their first break I approached the lead singer and told him I had some rotating fans back at the trailer. Would he like to run over and get them?
He eagerly answered, “That would be great, we‘ll take my truck.” He started to head toward his vehicle and I watched the fiddle player to see if he was interested in going along for the ride.
He wasn’t following and I thought he was rather cute and seemed like he had so much fun on stage he’d probably be a lot of fun off stage too. I turned to him, introduced myself and asked, “Aren’t you coming? We’re going to get you guys some real fans; the kind to help you stay cool on stage.”
He laughed, put down his beer, told me his name was Red and that it looked like it might be crowded in the front seat of the pick up truck. I smiled and asked if he minded if I sat in his lap and he said, “No Ma’am, I’m just a lonely boy from northern Georgia. I’d love for you to sit on my lap.”
I think that was the moment Cupid hit us both between the eyes, smack dab on the heartstrings, or wherever else that little angel hits to make two people go weak in the knees.
We visited at my trailer for a few minutes while Red longingly watched the bonefish rolling on the flats. “I’d love to throw a line out there,” he laughed. I told him the fish were there nearly all the time. He grinned from ear to ear. I told him I wasn’t sure whether I wanted anyone to stick a hook in my fishes’ mouths, but he was welcome to come watch them with me, anytime.
We loaded the fans in the back of the truck and headed back across the street. They got on stage and it felt like Red played just for me the rest of the afternoon. We exchanged winks and smiles and grinned for hours. We talked during his breaks and I found out there was a tremendous attraction between us. The chemistry was something I had never felt before with anyone.
He came back to my trailer after the gig, to watch the bonefish and we found Jason watching TV. We hung out for a while with him, sitting on the ocean. I told Red stories about the storms I’d watched from my couch. The water was calm today but there was definitely something brewing.
Red smiled at me and asked if I would like to go back to the band house and help him get his stuff together and I agreed instantly. He looked at Jason and asked, “Would you mind if I borrowed your mother for a few hours?” I melted at his southern accent and his gentlemanly manners.
Well, a few hours looked like it was going to turn into much longer, so I called Jason to let him know I would be home in the morning.
We spent the next 3 days together, never leaving each other’s side. We watched bonefish doing their thing…while we did ours and then it was time for him to head to Key West to play at Sloppy Joes. When he was ready to leave he said, “I don’t know if you are feeling what I am feeling, but it is scaring me.”
I told him I didn’t want to talk about my feelings either, they were much too strong, too soon. So we kissed goodbye and as he left, he drove around the circle in front of my trailer 3 times, waving and laughing each time he went by my doorstep.
He had said he would call but I wasn’t so sure he would, and quite honestly, I wasn’t so sure I wanted him too. I was on my way to an ashram and my life plans did not include a man. Of course, you know the best way to make God laugh don’t you? Make some plans!
Later that afternoon he did call. He told me he missed me and wanted to spend more time with me before he left the Keys. I told him I would love to see him again. He offered to drive the 90 miles back up the Keys and pick me up, either after his gig that night or the next day. He had 5 more days to work in Key West.
I told him he didn’t need to drive back up; it was such a waste of gas. I wouldn’t mind riding the bus down the following day, after I ran errands in the morning. Red laughed and told me nobody had ever ridden a bus to see him before… I laughed and told him I wasn’t just anybody and I would love to be the first to ride a bus to see him.
I checked the bus schedule as soon as we hung up and packed a small bag for the following
day. I had some sweet dreams about my fiddle player that night.
The next morning I awoke excited about spending time with Red in Key West. The little voice inside my head asked, “Diane, what are you thinking?” I didn’t answer but another voice said, “Live in the now.” I liked that voice better. Ok, voices, let’s just see where it goes.
After I’d taken care of business I walked out to the main highway, flagged down the bus and climbed aboard. I had ridden the bus often and the bus driver said hello and asked if I was headed for some more fun in Key West?
I told him I wouldn’t be riding all the way to the Key West bus station this trip. I’d be getting off on Summerland Key at Murray’s Grocery Store.
When I got to Murray’s Market Red was there waiting with open arms. I learned to love those arms, that smile and those warm and loving greetings.
For the next few days I acted as his roadie and his number one fan. He grinned and had more fun on stage than any musician I had ever watched before… I was hooked, and fortunately, so was he.
At the end of the week we drove back up the Keys together and he stayed a couple more nights with me at my trailer. He and my son got along famously and I overheard Jason telling his older brother he wouldn’t mind having this guy as a stepfather. Hmmm, I hadn’t considered marriage again, but that was nice to hear. I was glad when my sons approved of the people I shared my time with; I’d have to see what happened next. I still wanted to go to the ashram but I sure felt like I was falling in love. Our souls seem so connected and everything else fit pretty good too.
I watched Red as he packed his bag to head out on the road. He would be working for his dad for a couple of months and then would be back in the Keys again to play music sometime in October. Little did I know I would spend a lot of time over the next 9 years watching him pack his bags to go off on the road.
He had just purchased a piece of property north of Atlanta and we talked about my coming up and checking out the area. I said we’d see how things went, and if I did make it there and I did like it, we could talk about the price I would charge to build a house for him.
I was slightly saddened, by his leaving, but knew it would give us both a chance to sort out our feelings. By now he realized I was an early riser and when he hugged me to say goodbye, he asked me if I would call him every morning and be his “wake up call” so he didn’t have to use his alarm. I readily agreed.
I stood in the doorway of my trailer by the sea to wave goodbye to this wonderful man who’d entered my life. He started his truck and drove around in a circle, waving and laughing…and for the next 9 years, nearly every time he left to go play on a gig, he would drive around in a circle, waving and laughing, making me happier then I ever thought I could be.
I called him the following morning to wake him at 7:30am. We never spoke for long in the early morning conversations. I would say, “Good morning, this is your wake up call,” he would say thank you and call me back after his 2 cups of coffee and his newspaper. For the next 4 weeks we would talk for hours learning everything you could possibly learn about another person over the phone.
He wanted me to fly to Atlanta and spend a few nights with him in the mountains and then drive with me to Maine so he could meet my folks. This had never happened to me before. This man was sure he loved me and wanted me to build him a house so we could live happily ever after.
I wanted to follow my heart but I was confused. I decided to consult a book for my answer. Often, when I am unsure what to do I find if I pick up a book and silently ask a question of Spirit I will open and read the answer to my question.
I picked up a book and asked The Universe what to do. I opened the book to a chapter on love and marriage and the first words I read were, “When God gives you a partner, take them into your life and consider them a blessed gift.” OK, got it!
So, Red booked a flight for me, met me at the airport in Atlanta, I loved the property, we drove to Maine, and spent the next 9 years together in marital bliss-well, most of the time it was blissful.
9/98-10/07………………………Nearly Nine Years Together
We’ll fast forward through the 9 years we were together by saying, when it was good it was very, very, VERY good, and it when it was bad…well, I try not to think about it. If I write another book, it’ll be about the crazy life we had together. I have the pictures, intermittent journals and such wonderful memories.
In the beginning I traveled everywhere with him, mostly sitting in the suburban while he went into pawn shops to buy musical instruments to have repaired and to resell to music stores around the southeast. Of course, I learned that “buying” instruments meant LOTS of talking with pawnshop owners. I would sit for hours and dream and meditate and read and practice being very patient.
We’d stay in motels and drink wine and laugh and love each other.
We decided on May 5, 1999 to get married on the following Saturday, 3 days away. We’d purchased wedding rings in a pawn shop back in September of 1998, a month after we met, and had the owner of the pawn shop perform a ceremony. He pronounced us man and wife when we put rings on each others fingers, but now Red wanted more and so did I.
We got the marriage certificate in Tavernier and headed for Key Largo to shop for the party. I spent $113 on vegetables, dip, cheese, crackers and two heart shaped cakes. I took the “I Love Mom” decorations off of the cakes; it was Mother’s Day weekend. We went out on a sailboat, The Calypso Poet, with about a dozen friends. Captain Lance, my long-time friend, performed the ceremony at sunset.
We laughed and figured May 8, when said quickly May-ate, would be an easy date for Red to remember, as he’d said he wasn’t good at remembering anniversaries. We even had a best iguana attending the ceremony.
We worked on designing the perfect house to fit the foundation he already owned. The lumber I calculated we needed with plans for my second A-frame home was delivered on my birthday, May 25, 1999. We always joked he was going to hire me to build him a house but decided it was cheaper to marry me instead. Besides, then I would be around when he needed repairs or another house built. Here I was building house number three with husband number three. Seemed fitting.
I encouraged him to get back into playing music full time because not only was he the most talented musician I had ever seen on stage, he was SO happy when he was playing music for a crowd. He could play any kind of music with anyone and he always made whomever he was playing with sound so much better while he humbly stole the show. He would laugh and say he was a true side-man, fulfilling his namesake-Seidman (pronounced Side-man:)
As the years flew by, I began to realize why he had taken the break from the “jukebox scene” of a traveling musician and acted as a cowboy the couple of years before I met him. Life on the road, and on the stage, takes its toll, not only on relationships but on one’s health; especially when one does not want to say, “No, thank you. I have already had 14 shots of tequila. I don’t really need another one.”
It was like living on a roller coaster. When it was at the top it was so exciting sparks flew when we were together.
When it started on the downhill part of the ride it was painful, so painful, I would leave him on the road, go back to the house and build something and ask God what I was supposed to do.
In addition to the difficulties alcohol was causing we were creating a tremendous amount of debt. Red loved expensive things and he loved to travel. Each time he insisted we go to the islands sailing or on vacation somewhere I would say, “Honey, the credit cards.”
He would say sternly, “I’m not going to live forever,” and I would give in to another fun-filled-debt-producing trip. In hind sight, I am so glad I never said no.
Every few months or so I would have a talk with him, explain to him, HE couldn’t go on like this, WE couldn’t go on like this. I understood how hard it was to say “No, thank you,” to the offers of drinks all night long, but it was killing him and us.
The debt was adding so much stress to our lives I decided to take a full time job for a couple of years, despite his desire to have me with him on the road.
He did his best to control his alcohol intake and his anger and things were wonderful for awhile. He would drink a few Heinekens and refuse the shots, well, at least most of them. He would leave the bar when he was done with work, call me on his way back to the band house and laughingly say, “I have escaped.”
We’d talk several times each day of how much we missed each other and how someday we wouldn’t have to spend so much time apart.
We were so in love and it felt so right. We were always faithful despite the weeks we would have to spend apart. It was a story- book-long-distance love affair so much of the time.
In May of 2007, I left my full time job and went back to home improvement work which I could do anywhere, anytime, and began to travel with him again. We were able to spend more time together and things were very, very, very good for awhile.
Then, predictably, the bottom fell out again. He was more stressed than ever and I couldn’t be around him when he was in that state. I came back to northern Florida, to live in the little rental house I had purchased while I had the full time job.
I was doing home improvements and helping promote natural healthcare at “The Center” in Chiefland. I put together a yoga program and realized I was doing what I loved to do most; helping people by teaching them yoga, Qi gong and nutrition, healing the earth one person at a time.
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