A Man and His Guitar

Tonight Frank and I went to see Citizen Cope, a show we’ve both been looking forward to for several weeks. There was a point this afternoon that we considered not going. As days go, today was a one step forward, two steps back kind of day.

We rallied. We went. We didn’t have a plan, we just knew we needed to get out of the house, push the restart button on our day and go. We ended up at Pappadoux for dinner, thinking it was sort of thematic given Cope’s background.

There was a long wait, but we lucked out and got a seat at the bar, and had a fabulous dinner—but better, great conversation. I am thankful each time we have these moments that turn into evenings where my son and I connect. Tonight was one of those magical nights, when what we thought might be okay, turned out to be brilliant.

We arrived at the Gothic a few minutes before he came out on stage, and even though the place was packed, we somehow found ourselves right in front of the stage, with a great view.

There are people, or bands, who are good performers. They know how to put on a big show, wow the crowd with theatrics or big production. And other times, there is a man and his guitar, and we find ourselves several times throughout the show, with our hands on our hearts.

Tonight was a man and his guitar night. He played every single song I wanted to hear and even though it was evident he wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, he delivered in spades anyway.

What rises to the top with this type of show is sheer, raw talent. When he sings, you feel every single word, every syllable. Hand over heart feel it. When he started Sideways and instead of singing himself, the audience sang to him, I was moved to tears. It was one of those moments I'll never forget. 

When we had the wine bar, Andy Somebody used to come to play once a month or so. I pestered him for weeks to learn the song. I knew it would be a song perfectly suited to him. The last night we were open, Andy played, and surprised me at the end of the night by playing Sideways. It brought me to tears. That memory is now coupled with tonight's and it will remain so.

Clarence Greenwood—Citizen Cope—is a man with extraordinary talent. His songs get to me on a heart level, a hand over my heart level. At the end of the show, he walked the stage and shook people's hands. He shook mine and I was able to look him in the eye and say thank you. I hope he knows how heartfelt it was.