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The Food of Love
In daydreams, I’m lost in the idea of you.
The first time I see Kenny Tamlin play at the Cupid’s Bow Club, I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach. I don’t even care that Heather and Madison are beside me, getting drunk on cheap Mai Tais and shouting out lyrics that don’t even go along with the music. But I have eyes only for Kenny as he gives the crowd his signature moody stare before he closes his eyes and starts to bring us down into the closer of the night.
“Oh, we were lost on moonbeams / So high, so high, as high as lights in outer space / And I couldn’t see the ground, couldn’t see the ground / And did you see it too? / Did you see the crash before the fall? / Oh, did you, did you, did you?”
The riff of the guitar builds and builds as I feel the vibrations as if they’re colliding with my heartbeat. I know it’s just a song — just a silly song, one of thousands I’ll hear in my lifetime — but I wish it were about me. Isn’t it strange how we can hear some singer belt out a tune we’ll someday forget but, in that moment, it’s ours?
Then Kenny and the band bow as the crowd erupts. On the way home, I’ll keep my opinions locked tight behind my lips because Heather and Madison would never be able to understand this feeling. To them, concerts are experiences for social media: they’ll post their pictures of…
