I was a music video.

Or, more truthfully: I was in a music video. More truthfully still: I was in two music videos! Both belonging to the wonderful Drew Barlow Danburry.

The first was filmed at the old Meg Space, and shows me standing in a corner talking to Davis, and then sitting on a couch, talking to Jordan.



The second was not, and does not. Here I am mostly standing in a corner of the yard talking to Becca and Kyle, or pretending to learn how to play croquet from Kyle. (Which documented instances lead me to believe that I am often standing in corners talking.)



Drew's songs never get old. And because I am thinking about it, my favorite Drew memory is from the very week that I went on my mission. I had gone to my Oregon home for one month before coming back to Utah to enter the MTC. I was already set apart, which means that I was already expected to act like a missionary and do some missionary things. It also meant that I had to have another person with me at all times. My mom would act as that person for the few days of interim. My sister had called me sometime during our long drive across states, telling me that Drew was playing at Cafe Sol and that I should come. I wouldn't be able to go inside because missionaries don't go to concerts, but I did want to go outside and say hello to all of my friends. The question was: would my mom be willing to come with me? She was tired and we got in late, but the ultimate answer was yes. With some coaxing, yes. And I am completely grateful. So many people I loved were there. So many hugs from the girls. So many handshakes from the boys. (I remember Davis hugging my mom since he couldn't hug set-apart-me.) The one person I didn't get to see was Drew himself, because he was playing inside. My friend Kristina suggested that maybe he would play a church song so I could come in. I wasn't sure it would work, but she disappeared to test it out. Soon after, I heard my name over the microphone, calling for me to come inside. Kristina and Meg each held one of my hands as I went in. The room was full of hundreds of indie kids. Francesco (who was born this very day, some years ago) was one of the first people I recognized. In true Francesco fashion, he started clapping, and in true how-everyone-acts-around-Francesco fashion, the rest of the room followed suit. They were clapping for me, for a long time. These hundreds of kids. Some whom I knew, some whom I didn't. It felt like a dream. The best dream. Then, in the midst of this applause, I was escorted to the very front so I could shake Drew's hand. Once I got there, he played the following song, for me, on that most beautiful night.



I cannot thank him enough for that memory. This song is still sweet to me, and the times I get to hear it the most are when I'm Utah home, from miss Eden. I love her renditions too, because whenever she sings it, she prefaces it the same way: "This is a song my mom sings me to help me go to sleep at night." Way to go Eden's mom (and Eden). Way to go Drew. You are champions.