We arrived early enough to get a spot at the front of the stage . . . almost the same place we were for Citizen Cope’s show. Hunter Hunted opened for them, and I liked them enough to post during the show, that this was a band to watch for. Look ’em up, they’re worth paying attention to.
And then . . . the Mowgli’s. I looked forward to this night all week. Somehow I just knew it was going to be amazing. Amazing doesn’t come close . . .
For an hour we danced, we sang, we screamed away our bullshit . . . we shed a tear for Paul Walker. I cannot remember a show I’ve seen, ever, with the energy of this one. They played every song I wanted to hear, Say It Just Say It, Leave It Up to Me (yay!), Time, Emily and San Francisco . . . all amazing, all better live than I could have imagined.
Our benchmark for a great show . . . we dance until we can’t dance anymore, and when we leave, we can’t talk, because we sang and screamed and cheered so loud, we lose our voices. Tonight we did it all.
And at the end of the show, Josh Hogan handed me his plate of songs, which tomorrow, I’ll give to Frank for his wall of our year of music memoraibilia.
A lot of people tell Frank how lucky he is. He’s fourteen, and this was his eighteenth concert this year. He is lucky, I agree. But tonight something occurred to me. I’ve never told him how lucky I am. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be having all the fun I am. This has been an amazing year. Sometimes I think I love music more than breathing, and this year, I’ve had the rare opportunity to share my passion with my teenage son.
So you see, I might not like time, because time is making me old, but I’m doing alright cause I will still be young tomorrow.
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