I could tell

I’ve had epiphanies while in Vegas. Some things are bound to happen. I won’t be able to sleep, I’ll drink too many beers and when I yell at my husband to leave a machine, he will ignore me and win.

We saw Jack White last night at the Chelsea at the Cosmopolitan Casino. The hotel is glitzy. Lots of velvet and rhinestones. We sat at one of the bars before the show and paid fifteen bucks a drink to people watch. Well actually, Adrian’s whiskey was fifteen and my beer was only eight bucks. Only?

I expected the theater to be large but it was cozy. We had general admission floor and that was the largest part of the theater. There was plenty of room. Jack White was wearing a purple silk blouse over a black long sleeved tee shirt and a cap. He seemed to break free when he came back onstage after ditching the purple silk in the black shirt only with his dark locks flowing.

He is a guitar god. Seriously. Watching him play guitar is mesmerizing. It can sometimes be too much because I’m always craving his voice. His voice is one of my favorites. It’s quirky, passionate and true.

So when he sang “We are gonna be friends” in a slight quiver, voice breaking, while just barely strumming his guitar, the boy about brought me to tears. About you ask? OK, I admit it, I cried.

The song has always reminded me of my sisters, especially of my twin, who I walked to school with every day and we even shared a classroom in our short stint in Catholic School:

“Nouns, and books, and show and tell
Playtime we will throw the ball
Back to class, through the hall
Teacher marks our height against the wall
Teacher marks our height against the wall

We don't notice any time pass
We don't notice anything
We sit side by side in every class
Teacher thinks that I sound funny
But she likes the way you sing.”

(The White Stripes)

That is the power of music. It moves you. It triggers memories. It makes you ache and sigh and sometimes, smile and cry.

And always while singing along.

(Sans cell phone due to his no cell phone policy)