Can music save your mortal soul?

Last night, I attended my fourth Squeeze concert of the year.  For this one, I drove, all by myself, to Milwaukee to attend the annual Summerfest.  Squeeze was scheduled to take the stage at 9:30 p.m.

I took advantage of the free admission before 3:00 policy and found the stage and wandered the grounds, which were about a mile from my hotel, for a little while.  I was tired and sweaty from my drive, so I went back to my hotel to freshen up and grab a bite to eat. As usual, I wasn't very hungry, so soup, salad, and a glass of Merlot filled my belly quite nicely.

The city runs a shuttle for Summerfest, so I hopped on and met two women from South Dakota,  They had driven all that way to see Hanson (not Simon).  They, Marilyn and Ashley, were a mother-daughter team and they were really sweet.  It turns out that the Hanson brothers were staying in my hotel ( as were the ladies) and Ashley had just met the guys and of course was floating on air.

The bus arrived and I walked around for a bit with Ashley and her mom, but we quickly parted company and I wanted to head the stage where Squeeze would be performing later.  I wanted to say hello, if possible and if not, I wanted to grab a spot up front.

That was to be, as I ran into Simon Hanson (not Mmm Bop) chatting with a couple.  He saw me, called me over and introduced me to Ken and Susan. They had been to the show on Saturday in Iowa.  Ken is a drummer, so he and Simon hit it off.  The four of us wandered the grounds and then Simon needed to go check in, so I stayed on with Susan and Ken.

I had badges, from a friend, to deliver to the guys in the band, Simon was the first to get his.  So occasionally, we would head back toward the stage to see if I could find anyone, to complete my mission.  As luck would have it, who wanders around the corner but Glenn Tilbrook.  We chatted for a bit (he was eating) and he said 'I'll see you after the show."

I'll skip everything else and jump right to the show.  I decided that on this night, I wanted to just be an fan.  I took very few pictures, danced like a mad woman, and did not write down the set list.  They played the usual set, along with two new songs: "The Honey Trap" and "Top of the Form" (my personal favorite).  The audience really seemed to enjoy both of those songs.  Glenn was chatty and happy from stage and during the encore, in honor of Neil Diamond playing a few stages over, played a little "Sweet Caroline."

The wonderful show ended, the crowd went home and I went back to say hello.  Stephen, John, and Simon all stopped to talk about how the tour was going and how brutal the weather had been. Then Glenn came out, signed a few autograph, and got caught by plastic people, including one Barbie and her husband Ken.

By this time, the only people left were me (by myself), Glenn, and the plastic people.  I at least wanted to say bye to GT, so I lingered around while Barbie and her husband talked.  Barbie saw me and made a very snarky comment to me.  I will not dignify her comment by repeating it, but clearly it was meant to size me up and determine whether she should be polite to me or not.  My response led her to dismiss me, which backfired on her as GT turned down her and her husband's invitation to walk around the festival grounds with the response, "No, I really want to get back to my book."  That made me smile. So they left and I asked Glenn what he was reading.  Hitch 22, by Christopher Hitchens is his current read.  This led us to a whole conversation about writing and editing. I mentioned that I had written a novel, which elicited the most delightful expression from GT, I can't quite describe it.

He asked me genuine questions about the book.  I told him it was about a high school English teacher.  He chuckled and said, "Really , where'd that idea come from?" Smart ass.  Then we had this great conversation about editing, including how it feels when someone else goes through your work.  He shared his experience about columns he had written for a paper in the UK.  He asked what my editor had done, if she had made story suggestions and I revealed a big plot point in my story that my editor thought needed punching up.

We were interrupted by Barbie, who wanted to tell him how much the songs and words meant to her when she was a teenager and finally by someone else who wanted a picture. I had no idea what time it was.  I just knew that I didn't want to miss the shuttle and end up walking alone through an unfamiliar city.  I didn't want to go.  I never get to talk to anyone about writing. Frankly, I think he was enjoying the conversation, too. He said he'll see me Saturday and I caught the shuttle back to my hotel.

I can't wait until Saturday.  I just want to talk about writing.