Tom Petty. What a fellow.I know little of his personal life. I don’t know if he’s easy to get along with, is good at telling jokes, or if he likes playing mini golf with his grandkids.
But he sure does put on a swell rock and roll show.
Like any fan, I like to imagine him as a nice sort of guy. I’d like to think if I ran into him at a café and said hi, he’d smile and say hi back, and maybe let me catch a picture with him while we discussed the club sandwich on the menu. But I can’t be positive that’s how he would be.
I can be positive, however, of how inexpressively delicious his music is in person. Surrounded by drunken, shirtless Washingtonians, I experienced the grandeur of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers firsthand, smiling and clapping with glee like a schoolboy that just won a lifetime supply of frozen cookie dough. I have made my journey to Mecca, and can now die fulfilled and without regret.
Unless he goes on another tour within the next few years. In that case, I’ll probably have to hit one of those shows first.
No comments:
Post a Comment