Saturday, November 3, 2012

indigo girls


I can't remember if it was the cute lifeguard at summer camp or my high school bestie who first introduced me to Indigo Girls.  Either way, their music has woven its way through my bleeding teenage heart, my college discontent, and my adult awakening.  It's the music I want on every road trip, and one of the few bands whose songs I actually know more than the chorus to.

For twenty years, I've wanted to see these ladies on stage.  Due to time, money, and being distracted by other things, I never made my way to their live audience, until this week.  My wonderful husband heard on the radio that Indigo Girls were playing in Cleveland, so he surprised me with tickets for Thursday night.

I don't have a Bucket List, but if I did, seeing Indigo Girls in concert would be on it.  I assumed Chris did this for me, without regard for himself, but he fell in love with the night (and their music) as much as I did.  The Indigo Girls deliver beautiful poetry and timely messages through their lyrics, they always have.

And they know how to rock!

© photo credit: www.facebook.com/theindigogirls

Before the show, we ate dinner at The Flaming Ice Cube.  I had a dream that morning that Amy Ray and Emily Saliers were in this same cafe drinking coffee and herbal tea, relaxing before their gig.  I dreamt that they invited us to their table where we sat on the bench with patterned cushions, talked about musician life, and laughed at how awkward they looked on that one episode of Top Chef.  You know, hanging out like friends do.  My dream was just a dream, which is probably for the best, since the cherry fudge brownie we ordered for dessert wasn't easy to share.

Once at the Palace Theatre, Chris commented, "Wow, there are a lot of women here," and about two seconds later, we overheard a gal say to her friend, "Wow, there are a lot of men here."  It was a mixed crowd of all ages, but mostly people in their 30s and 40s.  I cried through the first four songs, I was so happy to be there. The room was packed and we all sang the songs we knew.  It was a shared experience that can be replaced by nothing else, and ended with their signature, "Thanks, y'all."  

Hubby and I walked away holding hands, euphoric.

No comments:

Post a Comment