Me & Julio Down By the Schoolyard

Anytime I attend a concert, I play a little game with fellow attendees. We list songs we KNOW we'll hear, songs we'd really *like* to hear, maybe a cover the band might do, and a long shot song. The first time I remember doing this, I was in middle school on the way to hear Paul Simon and Bob Dylan at Pine Knob. My dad asked me what I wanted to hear and without thinking much, I blurted, "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard" - in that moment, my cassette tape of Simon & Garfunkel: The Concert in Central Park got a lot of play. What am I saying? My CD of that album still gets played regularly. The concert rocked that hilltop - Simon and Dylan's pairing brought young and old together for a serious dance party and I joined right along with them but never so much as when I heard the opening chords of "Me and Julio". As I jumped to my feet, I gave my dad a Look of "I told you so" and danced like the flower child I wished I was. I've grown out of the hippie phase BUT still play the game before most concerts. Sometimes we get really lucky (Counting Crows 2012 we heard ALL THREE LONG-SHOT songs each of us chose) and other times, Ms. Swift played neither "Dear Stephen" or "Our Song". These two choices might be why the category is called "long shot' songs.

I digress.

Kate and I promised one another that we'd see Mumford & Sons in concert together sometime in our lives. The band had not been to Pure Michigan on any of their short U.S. tours and we collectively decided that despite not being old in real time, we were indeed too old for Bonnaroo. With our eyes on the prize, we even considered a European adventure! We girls like to dream big. While seeing Marcus Mumford and his sweet harmonies in their English home would've been great fun, life often surprises and delights - like the time the band's recent U.S. tour included our beloved Pine Knob. Kate booked her flight, my ticket dealer Uncle Michael hooked us up with lawn seats, and we started our countdown.

June 16th arrived with great anticipation, folllowing a celebration of Kate's baby boy! Our spot on the hill equaled perfection matched by a pristine Pure Michigan evening. Very little is better than enjoying a picnic with a girl's best friend listening to good music. AND THEN...

It'll always be Pine Knob. Baby's first concert :)

They played my long shot song. (Hint: I love this song so much I named my blog you are reading right now after it.) As Mumford and his sons hit the opening notes, Kate grabbed my arm and I gave a cry of disbelief. Moments like these don't happen often but when they do... I danced and sang my heart out with tears welled in my eyes for the song's entirety. The whole night held magic and reminded me once again the power of music and the awe it creates when a hell of a lot of people get together to share it.

Awe: a feeling of reverential respect mized with fear or wonder

I feel deeply and with great passion, enthusuiasm, and emotion. I cry easily, laugh with vigor, am moved by greatness big and small, and I will always be sensitive. Luckily for me (I'm practicing feeling grateful for this) with all of that comes the joy of wonder. I read this article not too long ago and one particular line struck me:
"awe imbues people with a different sense of themselves, one that is smaller, more humble and part of something larger" (NYT, 5/22/15).

As I sat out on that beautiful Pine Knob one Tuesday night in June and danced with my 15,000 friends united in the spirit of music, goose-bumps covered my arms and for another few minutes of this amazing life of mine, I realized "how this grace thing works". In other words: "good, clean livin'"