Lonely Boy

Saturday night Chris and I pretended to be grown ups.  Real grown ups.  With real grown up friends.  We  went out to dinner and to a concert.  For reals.  That's a pretty big deal.  I couldn't be more isolated from the outside world.  And every time I venture out into it, I am forcibly struck by how completely uncool I am.  Hugely uncool.  I'm not quite sure how this happened...  I think I used to be cool.  I think so.  At least, I didn't always feel like such a fish out of water when I was surrounded by other adults.  My kids are my go to accessory, and without them I feel naked.  I don't know which shoes to wear or what to do with my arms.  And suddenly I am very conscious that all of the girls are wearing things I have never seen before, and their hair styles are much cooler than mine...  And wow.  I have a lot of tiny lines around my eyes.  How does she walk in those shoes?  Why am I the only one wearing a pashmina?  

Great night with our friends Steven and Glenda.  I really should have snapped a photo of them too...  dang.  Anyway, somehow they are cooler than us.  They go out to dinner and stuff.  They know all of the good restaurants.  They listen to bands we've never heard of.  I'm telling you, I distinctly remember being cool.  Pretty sure.  Almost positive.  But I digress.

We went to a restaurant called, Smoke.  Chris had three courses of pork.  You can't do that just anywhere, Gentle Reader.  Appetizer?  Pork.  Salad?  Pork.  Desert?  Yup.  Pork.  Chocolate covered bacon.  Pork, pork, and more pork.  The pig is a magical beast.

Then the concert.  Chris had been looking forward to seeing The Black Keys for weeks.  I mostly listen to the kids' They Might be Giants album, Here Come the 1 2 3's,  and Lucas's Suzuki violin CD that his teacher made him to help him practice.  So...  yaaah.  I'm a bit out of touch.  I can tell that I'm out of touch, because I thought it was really loud...  It was good, don't get me wrong.  But man.  Loud.

It wasn't the three courses of pork, my awkward predicament about not knowing what to do with my arms in public, or the the impressive volume that were my favorite parts of the evening.  Nope.  Not even the music was my favorite part.  My favorite part...  was...

This guy.

I call him, Lonely Boy.  Partly after the Black Key's song, Lonely Boy.  And partly because even though he was in a stadium with thousands of people...  he was totally, and completely unconcerned with any of them.

I.  Heart.  Lonely Boy.

There is no disputing, this kid likes The Black Keys.  Like, for reals.  More than you do.  More than anyone does.  More than anyone likes anything.  He jumped up and down.  He punched the air with fervor.  He arched his back, threw back his head and sang every word with his eyes squeezed tightly shut.  He played air guitar.  And meant it.  (Which usually makes me very uncomfortable, but for some reason it worked for Lonely Boy.)  I have never, ever.  In my life.  Seen anything like it.

My inner monologue went something like this.  Wowsers.  WOW.  SERS.  He's still jumping.  Is that air guitar?  huh.  Yup.  That's air guitar.  Man, he's getting after it.  Do I love anything that much?  Is there anything in the world that I would be that excited to see?  His seats aren't even that good.  Wow.  Man.  Is there anything on God's green earth that would make me that excited?  hmmm...  I might get that excited to see a live show of Downton Abbey...  Downton Abbey on Ice?  Could I jump for that long of a period of time for Downton Abbey on Ice? Maybe.   I would need to train, build up my endurance for something that exciting.  Man, I need to go to the gym.  He's still jumping.  


He was young, early twenties.  Someday my boys will be that old.  I can't ever see teenage boys, boys in their twenties without thinking of my own, and wondering what they will be like when they are that age.  So I couldn't help thinking, Man that kid has passion.  I hope he's this passionate about school.  I hope he has a plan for his future...  If he put the kind of effort into his education that he is putting into singing with his eyes closed, there would be no stopping him.  Maybe I should talk to him about it after the show...  Which of course I didn't, Chris frowns on my lecturing the youth about their future in public.  Sometimes I still do...  Like the cute teenage couple that I frantically barked, Stay in School! at over Harrison's screams and shrieks in the lobby at the Red Lobster a couple of weeks ago...

But I digress.

So...

Lonely Boy.  He made my night.

I don't know where you are, Lonely Boy.  But thanks for that passion, man.

You're pretty great.

Study hard.