Usually married couples don’t go on too many dates, but today Steve and I had a dual date. We went to a matinee movie, then tonight went out to dinner and to the Pete Yorn concert. I’ve never loved concerts. I have the CD already, what difference does it make to me? But Steve really wanted to go and I was one of the only people who even knew who Pete Yorn is. That coupled with the fact that I’m his wife made me a shoo-in for his second ticket.
Then, we stood up and joined the crazy fans crowding the stage and waited for Pete Yorn to come out. The second I saw him open his slightly crooked mouth and begin to sing, I understood groupies. I might have even considered being one, but only for Pete Yorn and only if he wooed me publicly, during his concert, and begged me to come on stage and sing “the Man” with him. I would, of course. I would smile like a buffoon and sing in the wrong key, but I wouldn’t even notice. Everyone else would, but I wouldn’t. Even so, it would be a bigger high than any drugs could ever achieve. Let’s face it, no one else in the world could ever make a harmonica look cool.
Every day I spend with my husband, I am more in love with him. Why else would I go on two dates with him in a day? Today in the car, my eye watered. Not both of them, just one eye. This formed a tear which slowly crept it’s way down my cheek. Steve leaned over and thumbed it off my face. He missed the green light as a result, and was upset that he missed it. I never do that, he muttered. I smiled because he and I had a moment where time stood still. The world around us ceased to exist and it was only him and me. Him taking care of me. No matter how sexy Pete Yorn looked tonight, he has nothing on my husband.