This evening my beau took me to see Etta James perform at BB Kings.  The last time we’d seen her she was ill, and seemed weak and frail.  She left the stage after only a half-hour or so.

Tonight, she was in fine fettle, full-voiced, languorous and lascivious, trilling with the band in a way that belied her 71 years, making jokes and bringing tears to my eyes.  It was a tremendous performance, and it satisfied my soul in a way that will resonate within me for a long time.

But what, exactly, kept popping into mind as I watched the Roots Band warm-up the crowd before Etta came on stage? 

I thought of Chicago Guy and how his understanding of the power and mystery of music has made such a meaningful connection for me.  I’ve learned music can heal, bring people together, and teach us lessons.

As I watched the Roots Band warm-up the crowd I pictured Michael Rogers, Cap’n Parrotdead, Grif, and Trig Palin wailing away on guitars, sax, keyboards, and drums.  OESheepdog was riffing on the keyboards.  The bass player made me think of Jim Galt because he kept his back to the audience throughout the entire show.

The emcee was Luis G. introducing Etta with flair and gusto.

And finally there was Etta.  To my mind, she represented an incredibly wide variety of the women I’ve come to know (or simply read) on this site.  As sexy, and wise, and funny as Ablonde, Cartouche, and Monique C.    I thought of Redstocking Grandma for sheer life experience, and her defiance and intelligence conjured Verbal Remedy.  She had a remarkably wry take on the world like TequilaandDonuts, and a real life sensibility that JustJuli shares every time she posts. 

WHY was I thinking about OS when I should have been totally immersed in this sensational experience?  Perhaps it’s because I’m still relatively new to the experience of writing/blogging in such a self-referential manner, and so my life is somewhat filtered by the question, “How would I write about this?”  I wonder if that will that ever go away.

Then there’s the fact that this virtual universe I stumbled into has become increasingly important to me.  The people who read my work accept the world as I present it.  I, in turn, have seen the inside of Leeandra Nolting’s house, met the birds who inhabit Scrufus’s life, seen the backside of WalkAwayHappy’s basset hounds, and met Cymraeg’s WriggleKitten.  I shared Life in the Midwest’s move to North Carolina, and learned what it means to be incredibly strong in the face of adversity from DeliaBlack.  I miss Emma Peel so much it hurts.

And BBE is always there to keep me honest. 

There are so many others who touch my life on a daily, no, hourly basis, that it’s impossible to remember and name them all.

I do, actually, have a life and friends outside of OS.  But few of them know of my visit to Crazy Town or how I really feel about being a 50 year old grocery store clerk and bookseller.  My “favorites” at OS do.  In my own twisted, bitter, and I hope, funny way I’ve been as honest on OS as I have anywhere else…and I don’t have to pay $100 an hour to do it.   

Who are these people, really?  I don’t care.  The Peter Steiner cartoon reads, “On the internet, nobody knows you’re a dog”.   So, if I’m a dog, I’ll howl all I want, and join the chorus of those of us who want to be heard, taught, and teach.    I’m honored to be a part of this pack. 

When I go to see Al Green, however, I’d very much like to simply enjoy the music and leave you all at home for the evening, thankyouverymuch!