The privilege of watching a young sixteen year old play one of her first shows tonight was wonderful. I sat right behind her proud parents and it was almost as much fun watching them. When she sang about having the blues and lost love I was amused.
Of course she can't know much about broken hearts and love gone wrong. She's sixteen, remember? Then it all came back to me. My first broken heart. The next one. The last one.
A close friend told me yesterday that I wasn't the only one she knows who mixes up love and lust. It was meant to be a compliment, I think. I had to explain to her that those are the regular crazy folks. Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm big on lust. I don't, however, confuse it with love.
Yeah, friends, I fall in love. If I had my way, I'd sing about moon, June, croon. I'd sing about peace and love and saving the world. I don't even much like the blues.