This post is 15 of 30 in a series about songs that mean a lot to me. The rest of the posts are here, and here’s a Spotify playlist of the songs

I know I’ve already talked about Tame Impala, but there was really never a chance I’d get through this series without discussing Let It Happen. Standing as the opening track of Currents, Let It Happen sets the tone and theme for the album. Kevin Parker is one of the best rock bassists around right now, and it shows on this song; particularly on the instrumentals towards the end. Everything about this track is just so tight and groovy. Love it.

The theme of this song makes itself pretty apparent; Let It Happen. It’s an idea that’s been milling around in my head for quite some time, and one that I’ve touched on in a few posts already. We wind ourselves so tightly around our ability to control things that any threat to that ability feels existential. Small seeds of things I wish to control often grow and grow into weed-like structures that compel me to act in really silly ways. Let me explain.

Yesterday I talked about my time traveling and playing bass guitar with OneVoice. I took so many great trips with that group, and one of the best was to Australia. It was truly a once in a lifetime experience; we spent 3 weeks touring and playing music in Melbourne and Sydney.

During this time I surfed, ate fish and chips on Bondi Beach, petted a kangaroo, spontaneously played bass in a nightclub, played for Hillsong’s high-school youth group, and experienced the most embarrassing moment of my life.

As we traveled around, we split up and stayed with host families who volunteered to house us. For the 10 days that we were in Melbourne, one of the singers and myself were with a family who had a beautiful modern house out in the suburbs. They had 3 children, and each had their own bedroom. While we were staying there, the family graciously offered me and our singer our own rooms for the time we were staying there. It was really nice to have my own space for that amount of time. We really bonded with that family through that time – I truly looked forward to coming back at the end of each day and spending the evening hanging out with them.

We were leaving to move to the next stage of the tour on a Saturday, so Friday night we packed up our things to be ready to leave very early the following morning. I said goodbye to our temporary family and got to bed a little early. What happened next is not something I had done in over 10 years and have not done since.

3:07 AM: So, I’m sleeping in this king-sized bed, (what 11 year old needs a king-sized bed?) and I remember the dream I was having like it was yesterday. I was in a very large swimming pool by myself and I had to pee. Convenient, right? So I go ahead and start doing that. It was at this lucid, horrifying moment that I realized what was happening in my dream was actually happening in real life. In someone’s bed. In someone else’s house. In Australia. Panic.

Saying I peed the bed is underselling it. I had just gold medaled the Olympics of wetting the bed. It was like my body thought the mattress was on fire. There would be no recovery. Unless…

I sprang out of bed, shed my clothes (pretty sure I just threw them away), and went to work. I jammed all of the affected bedding into the washer. Washers and dryers are quite a bit smaller in Australia, but I made it work. Next, I went back to my room and flipped the mattress. I wasn’t going down for this.

When everyone woke up, I let my host parents know that I had taken the liberty of washing my bedding for them, and that it was finishing up in the dryer. No harm no foul. Well, except for the mattress – there’s no way it was ever the same. My apologies to the 11 year old.

As you can see, I put a whole lot of urgent thought and effort into avoiding an embarrassing situation. I didn’t tell anyone what happened until months afterward. I eventually realized it really wasn’t that big of a deal, and now it’s one of my favorite funny stories to tell people who don’t know me that well. Who really cares? I wonder how many years of my life I lost from the stress I incurred in that moment. I hope the next time I’m tempted to respond to immense embarrassment with stress that I just, you know, let it happen.



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