On September 6, Hubby and I drove 45 minutes to see a Pearl Jam cover band we’d seen once before on what was one of the best nights of my life. Their set was shorter this time, so only slightly less awesome.

They had an opener–a cover band for Creed. I only knew half the songs, but I loved those songs. Also, the singer performed on this small stage as though in front of a massive audience. He was so thrilled by the dozen or so people gathered on the dance floor in front of him.

It was charming. A little sad. But still charming. I was pleased he walked by me later so I could tell him he had done a fantastic job, because he really had.

A woman dancing off to the side made me think, “I wish I was as uninhibited as that cool chic.” Then she turned around and I thought, “Oh! Grandma!”

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