According to my iPod, I currently have three hundred and eighty-four Counting Crows songs in my pocket. About eighty of these are different versions of the song "Rain King," mixed and mashed and mingled with a dozen other songs, recorded in an unknown number of cities. I have the coveted live concert with the Disney orchestra backing them up, and several different versions of the song "August and Everything After," which has never been officially recorded. In short, I am a nut.
The first time I saw the Counting Crows live, I was in high school, and they were still playing the UC Berkeley campus club on a regular basis. I was smuggled into the bar by a friend. It was love at first sight. Unlike many young loves, this one has never wavered, never faltered, never faded. They are my favorite band. They have been my favorite band since I was fourteen.
Tonight, I am flying to Seattle. Tomorrow, Ryan and I are driving four hours to a winery in the middle of Washington state. And I am going to see the Counting Crows live for the first time in more than two years.
I am excited, I am exhausted, and I am relieved. Seeing the Counting Crows perform is restorative for me, the way that rereading IT or watching Slither is restorative. Only moreso, because I can't control when a concert happens the way I can control putting on a DVD or opening a book.
I will not get any work done tomorrow. Normally, that would stress me out and worry me, but not this time, because I'm getting something a lot more valuable.
I'm getting peace.
I hope you'll have a wonderful weekend, wherever you are and whatever you choose to be doing. I'm going to be on my own private archipelago, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Nowhere else in the world.