Repair: A Rock & Roll Skill
Written by: Kevin Marks, MSEd, AMFT #152912
July 1, 2026
Photo by Alexis Baydoun on Unsplash
Many years ago, I was in a band, and the day had come to celebrate the release of our first CD (what's a CD? Google it...). We had booked the beautiful Gaslighter Theater in downtown Campbell—a small but mighty hall in the Old West style that had been around for ages. Since I was the lead singer, it fell to me to liaise with the theater, sign the contract, and deal with the owner, who was nice enough on the phone.
The day of the big show was exciting. We had invited some of our favorite local bands to share the bill, and we rented absurd vintage clothing to perform in. As we loaded-in, we realized just how old the theater was. Everything about it was old—the walls, the seats, the restrooms, and yes, the proprietor.
Not only was he old, he was mean. And loud, and apparently, having a very, very bad day. He grunted a greeting from way up in the catwalk over the stage, and explained that there was a problem with the power in the building and that nobody would be setting up anytime soon, and if anyone so much as placed one piece of gear on the stage, the show was off.
We dutifully stayed out of his way for an hour or so, and when I later checked in on his progress, my inquiry was greeted with an insult that suggested me and my 'musician friends' ought to be 'electrocuted on accident,' or something to that effect. I decided to sit down and give it another 30 minutes.
After that time had elapsed with no change, I realized we were running out of time. If we waited much longer, the bands wouldn't get proper soundchecks, and we wouldn’t get the sound system set up in time. What we'd planned to be a great night was becoming a nightmare.
I timidly approached the stage where the proprietor was now working, and expressed my concern that we were dangerously short on time and might we please begin some minor setup of the hall.
This gentle request produced a string of screaming, invective, and profanity toward me, the likes of which I had never been on the receiving end of. I was also on the receiving end of some spit, if I recall correctly, as he was really letting it fly. All of it.
The room was thick with tension, and in that moment I had the absolute sense that everyone in the room was watching me and wondering what I would do next. Our collective fate (for that evening of rock and roll anyway) was in my hands, and I knew all eyes were on me, which changed everything about how I reacted.
"Okay, well, we'll wait a bit longer and just let me know when you think it's safe to start setting up. Thanks," I said, in a very calm voice. It was the opposite of what I wanted to say, and it was the opposite of how I felt, but that's what came out.
The show, miraculously and eventually, came off. It was a night of indie rock, sweat, laughs, and friendship. When it was all over, the singer of one of the other bands came up to me and said, "You know, we were about to walk out until we saw how you handled that guy, how you responded. It was an abusive situation, and you took a different path. It made us want to stay."
Repair is hard. I wish I could say that night began for me a lifetime of Christlike temperance and Jedi patience. Alas, it did not, but I often think of that night and that version of me that showed up. I wish he came around more often.
Reconciliation is hard. Angry Theater Man did approach me during load-out, giving great-show congrats and apologies for his anger, and cracked the door open onto the myriad array of unpleasant life things going on with him. There is always more to the story.
In couples counseling, I am often entreating people to avoid retreating to the defensive position. It is a concrete place of stasis and death. When we’re challenged by our spouse, partner, colleague, pet, etc., the temptation to point out all the ways that they are awful is irresistible and almost automatic. We don’t like to listen, give space, or validate feelings because it feels like giving up ground, something we’re not trained to do in Silicon Valley. We must win at all costs. When someone is having a bad day and is behaving badly (Angry Theater Man), we feel compelled to point that out, when the more humane tactic is to give them a wide berth, tell them we understand that today sucks, and might we get them something? The path of reconciliation lies in the shared gooey messy space between us, where if we listen close, we just might hear imperfect human beings talking. That night in the grubby Gaslighter Theater, we found that space. May you find it in your relationships and beyond.
Kevin Marks, MSEd, AMFT #152912
Kevin Marks is an Associate Marriage & Family Therapist at CCC, working with couples, individuals, teens, and adolescents. Find out more by clicking the link below.
