Sometimes you just need to suck it up and do something on your own.

On Friday night I took myself to see my favorite band, The Counting Crows. I went into the experience feeling a little weird about going to a concert alone. On one hand it seemed a little sad, but on the other, I reasoned that I wouldn’t really be alone. I’d be with about 20,000 other Counting Crows fans — my tribe, if you will.  So, I bought myself a ticket and headed out to enjoy their “25 Years and Counting” tour. A fitting name, I thought, considering I was 25 when I first saw them and that was, well…just about 25 years ago. Wow.

The story of when I first saw them live is one I’ve enjoyed telling over the years. When I fell in love with the Counting Crows, I  viewed Adam Duritz, the lead singer, as a modern day poet. His lyrics made me swoon…and they still do.  So, when the opportunity to meet him all those years ago was presented to me by a friend who worked for Hersheypark Stadium, I didn’t pass it up.

The plan was that my friend would be escorting Mr. Duritz to the stadium entrance at a very specific time. I would meet them at a designated spot just outside the stadium, and my friend would hand me a copy of the Recovering The Satellites album cover so I could request an autograph.

I showed up on schedule. There was a gaggle of teenage girls already hovering by my beloved singer songwriter.  I saw this as no challenge. They were children. I was a mature 25-year-old with big hair and a killer sundress. This was my moment. Surely he would be drawn to me. We would connect over his writing. I would talk about his use of metaphors and how inspiring I found it all to be.  We’d discuss “Anna Begins”…and how that song always made me melt (still does). He’d look into my eyes…and a new song would be born. I’d surely make the next album.

My moment had arrived. There I was a mere foot away from the Dread Lock King. I remember thinking he looked a bit pasty.  But I overlooked that. He was still a ridiculously sexy writer. I mean, I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I’ve overlooked a lot of flaws in men over the years (a trait that didn’t always serve me well, I’ll be honest). A pasty face and some less then appealing dread locks could surely be dismissed for the opportunity to connect with a man capable of writing such gorgeous lyrics.  So I approached him.  He and I were standing face to face…there might have been a foot between us. He looked at me, smiled, scanned me up and down and said in a VERY flirtatious tone, “Hi. How are you?”  What came next can only be described as a galactic failure. My response has always perplexed me. I mean, I had rehearsed this moment in my mind for days leading up to this. I knew what I was going to say. I was going to say what a pleasure it was to meet him…and that his writing is beautiful..and that it inspired me.  But instead what I said was, “It’s hot out here. How are you?”

Yeah…..it gets worse.

He gave me another shot.  He looked at me and said…while smiling directly into my eyes…. “I know. It is really hot. I’m kind of dying out here today.”  Ok. There it was….the conversation was continuing.  All I had to do was transition away from the temperature and compliment him. COMPLIMENT him, Michele. Talk about his writing…praise him. Just do it.  So, I opened my mouth and the following came spewing from my lips: “Yeah. Wow. It must be all that hair.”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  What the fuck does that even mean? “It must be all that hair?”  I’ve never forgotten the disappointed look on his face. He reached down, grabbed the Recovering The Satellites album cover from my hand, signed it, handed it back to me and turned to walk away. That was it. I crashed and burned.

What can I say? I never had game.

So, fast forward to this past Friday. I tried hard to reconcile that it had been 25 years since I last saw them live. I don’t know why it took me so long to see them again. But there was simply no way I was going to miss this show…even if it meant I was going alone.

I’ve been doing a lot of things on my own lately. Taking myself to dinner, going to the movies, taking a road trip. And now this concert.  I’m learning how to be at peace with solitude. There are moments when I feel like I’m kind of floating somewhere in between. But in those moments, that’s when I feel my growth the most.  The silence helps me think…it pushes the fear to the surface to be reckoned with.  I like the strength that I’m feeling these days. I’m coming to terms with choices I’ve made, and the consequences from all of them. I feel different…more peaceful…less anxious. And I’m rediscovering me…the good parts.

I packed a cooler with some healthy snacks and a beverage to enjoy in the parking lot before the show. I wasn’t sure if there would be people tailgating, but I figured I’d come prepared. Why not?

I pulled in to the stadium parking lot and there were tailgaters everywhere. I found a spot next to the largest pick up truck I’ve ever seen.  There was a young couple sitting in the bed of the truck blaring August and Everything After, the very best Counting Crows album, by the way.  I parked, popped the trunk, set up my chair and poured my drink.  I will admit for a second I did feel a little awkward. I appeared to be the only person tailgating alone.  It’s hard not to feel like a loser in those moments.  But I felt it and then let it go. I was determined to have fun.

Moments after settling into my solo tailgating position, the young woman from the pick up truck next to me yelled over:  “Hey, would you like to play “flip cup” with us?”  “Sure,” I said, having had no idea what the hell “flip cup” was.  Turns out they were brother and sister and were planning to meet up with their parents for the show. They were both in their early 30’s. They were kind…and a lot of fun. They invited me into their little party and taught me the fine art of flipping a cup after slamming a beer (which was just a few sips in my case, I don’t chug beer. I actually don’t drink beer. But hey, I was up for something new).  We stood there at the bed of their truck and competitively played this drinking game….something I have not done in probably 20 years or more. I would also like to point out that I worked that game like a champ. For a newbie, I held my own.

A few minutes into our game, their parents arrived. That’s when the party really got started. Their mom came bearing homemade snacks, and their Dad brought ingredients to make gin and tonics. This family was amazing.  They encouraged me to stay and hang out with them, so I did. I mean, did I mention the gin and tonics? Oh…and they used good gin…Hendricks. We stood there, playing flip cup, sippin’ on gin and juice while enjoying some laughs. I had never met these people before, yet we were hanging out laughing, sharing stories and having a truly amazing time. It was random and fun, and the whole experience made me feel alive.  At one point we realized we were the only tailgaters left in the parking lot. Everyone else had packed up and headed to the stadium. We hadn’t even noticed. What can I say, time flies when you’re having fun.

So I said goodbye to my new friends and we headed to our respective seats. The son kissed me on the cheek and told me to enjoy the show. The Mom hugged me…and the sister gave me this combination high five, fist pump,” you rock” kind of thing. I adored them.  I even felt…I don’t know…“cool.”   I wondered if they had any clue how old I was. I loved that it didn’t matter.

As I walked to my seat I began feeling something that I hadn’t felt in a while. It was this rush of adrenaline. It was joy…100% unadulterated pure, organic, gluten-free, non-gmo joy.  I could have skipped to my seat. I was down right giddy at the thought of being somewhere close to Adam Duritz again…to hear his amazing lyrics, and that unique voice that I find so emotive and sexy.

From the second the Crows took the stage, I was on my feet. I danced and sang, and lost myself in all of that great music. I felt every lyric. Being there alone was a non-issue. I didn’t give it a thought. I didn’t feel alone.  In fact, about halfway through the show the man standing next to me leaned over and asked if I had seen the Counting Crows before. That simple question ended up leading to a fantastic night of great conversation.  His name was Robert and he was also there alone. That’s right…of the 30,000 seats in the stadium, I ended up buying one next to an incredibly handsome, intelligent, single, communicative Counting Crows fan…who was also there by himself.

After the show he walked me to my car where we noticed that a note had been attached to my windshield wiper. I grabbed it curiously.  And to my surprise and delight, it turned out to be the name and phone number of the 32-year-old flip cup guy that I tailgated with.  A 32-year-old man…who was adorable (and incredibly ripped I might add), left me his phone number.  Umm….yeah…that kind of rocked. I giggled like a school girl and reveled in the delight of someone 17 years my junior giving me his phone number. The note included his full name and a smiley face. It was adorable.

Of course I’m never going to call him. And yes, I may have actually thought about it.

My new friend Robert was very impressed with all of this. He flipped over the note which was written on the back of an Ace Hardware receipt. He began reciting the list of items purchased: A sand belt, another sand belt…and, finally, one more sand belt.  “He sounds like a handy guy,” said Robert grinning. We laughed and then leaned against the hood of my car where we hung out and talked for about 45 minutes. We shared travel stories, we talked about divorce and moving on…we talked about music…we talked about wine. It was a beautifully random moment in time. He was kind and interesting and sweet..and about 12 years younger than me.  He told me that I was the best part of his night and that “the music was the perfect soundtrack to this memory.” Cheesy? I don’t know…and I don’t care. It was sweet and a little dreamy…and gave me so much to smile about.  He thanked me for hanging out with him, we exchanged numbers and hugged goodbye.

I will never see him or the 32-year-old “Handyman” again. But I will most likely not forget them…or the way I felt that night. I took myself out to see my favorite band and what I got in return was an embarrassment of riches. That was the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.

I now remember that I can do things by myself and not feel alone. I can live this life fully and enjoy every minute, regardless of whether there’s company or not.

Since Friday, the lyrics to “Anna Begins” have been floating around in my head. I’m feeling this song a bit differently now. It’s quite possibly the very best Counting Crows song, in my humble view.  The change-ups are interesting. The lyrics are colorful. The metaphors are genius. And the story is so very compelling. It’s quintessential Adam Duritz song writing.

One of the things I will always think about when I remember Friday night is the kindness that I felt from strangers. People I never met touched me and invited me into their own joy. The kindness of strangers can be cleansing…and can heal old wounds.  Maybe that’s what Adam meant when he wrote, “And kindness falls like rain. It washes her away. And Anna begins to change my mind.”

Hmm…it’s interesting to me now….all these years later the way his lyrics can feel new again. I suppose that’s one of the very best things about music. Your attachment to a song can feel personal. And the meaning can evolve right along with you. I love that about music. I wonder if Adam feels similarly? Gee, if only I had been given the opportunity to ask him that very question. Grr….

Oh well. Hey, at least I could fit into the same sundress I wore 25 years ago. And, while Adam never became smitten with me, I was a hit with two very adorable millennial men.  Not bad for this nearly 50 year old hopeless romantic.  I like the way this summer is rounding itself out. I feel hopeful again.

I don’t know…I guess you could say I’m looking forward to “August and everything after…”