I've got a list.
It's a long and sloppy thing. I add things randomly and I cross them out occasionally. I have a list of things I'd like to do in my lifetime. Of places I'd like to go. Of performers I'd like to see. There are silly things on it, some serious, lots of fun stuff. I always have those "I've been meaning to do that thoughts." With this list, I am more directed when I choose things to do. Because I scrapbook, I document these things and journal about the experience. If I can take my camera, that helps in my documentation process. The List is one of the reasons I have been to the top of the Eiffel Tower, planted a rose garden, and seen Celia Cruz and Tito Puente while they were still alive (ironically, I saw them at the Hollywood Bowl). It was the reason we made a point of going to the Del Mar Racetrack this summer (I won $150 bucks, by the way). It is why I have my own business.
Last night I got to cross another thing off my list.
Let me explain. In late September of 2001, Amy and I had just returned from New York City. (yes, note the date. that's a story for another day) It seemed like every performer anyone has ever heard of was doing benefit concerts for NYC firefighters and the families of victims of the tragedy of 9/11. One of those televised benefit concerts was at Radio City Music Hall. On the roster was The Who.
They did their set of many fabulous and recognizable hits. For their final song they played "Won't Get Fooled Again." I sat riveted. In the context of patriotic, post 9/11, the song had me in tears. That was the day I added The Who to The List.
Eric and I went to the Hollywood Bowl last night to see The Who. Is there a more magical place for a concert? Don't think so.
Perfect, warm night with a magnificent full moon. We did the mandatory picnic, of course. And took the "yes, we are total dorks" picture with the phone, the Bowl way in the background. (I'm documenting, remember?).
It was practically perfect as far as date nights go.
We sat staring open-mouthed at the brilliance and talent of Pete Townshend. I was inwardly shrieking like my teenage self every time Roger Daltrey sang (how OLD is he??). They ended the set with THAT SONG. It made me remember what I never want to forget and the tears again came quickly. I felt reassured that they were worthy of having made The List.
FOOTNOTE: Amy called to tell me to check out Henry's post today over at Cuban American Pundits. (actually posted by SrCohiba, AKA Cigar Mike, AKA Mike Pancier – thanks for the head's up, Henry)
Coincidence? I think not.
Start a List of your own. Right now. I mean it.